Yours Truly, Cammie

by S. J. Sylvis

You know, I was pretty damn independent. I mean, let’s face it, I was twenty-five and I lived alone without a man. Even when I dated Grant, he wasn’t much of a handyman or dependable in any other sense…but nailing these fucking boards up on my windows was hella hard. I’d hit my thumb three times…in a row, might I add, and even though it was the middle of autumn, I was sweating like a whore in church!

  My arm casually wiped my forehead, soaking it with my salty moisture, and down went my hammer...onto the grass below my ladder. Shit!

  Yep, that’s right. Here I was, standing on my ladder, nailing boards onto the last three windows of my house, too stubborn to go over and ask Luke for help. I saw him in his kitchen window, but I played it off well. Only tripped once while climbing the rails.

  “Need this?”

  I whipped my head up from resting it against my ladder and yelled in surprise. I eyed Luke in his flannel shirt, rolled up on his forearms. Jesus, he looked freaking amazing with his tousled hair and wicked grin.

  “Why do you insist on sneaking around? You’re like the big bad wolf who spies on the little piglets, ready to pounce at any given second. It’s creepy. Stop.” I rolled my eyes as his smile grew even larger. His teeth were so bright in between his lips, and they were so straight. Perfection, I tell ya.

  He chuckled, “What is it with you and name-calling? First, I’m a pig, and now I’m the big bad wolf?” His laugh echoed through the air and then I heard a few snickers from behind him.

  I held onto the ladder and peeked around Luke’s body, only to see a few of his friends that I recognized from the ball. I think their names were Dumbo 1 and Dumbo 2.

  I ignored his question and snatched the hammer out of his hand.

  “So, Doc, what does that make you?”

  I exhaled, “What?”

  He lowered his voice, moving closer to the ladder. “Well, if I’m the big bad wolf, does that make you one of the little pigs?” I peered down at him, eyebrows risen. “Are you afraid I’m going to eat you, little piggy?”

  I gave him a puzzled look. “You are so dumb.” I grabbed a nail and went to hammer it into the plank board.

  “You know…I’d love to have another taste of you.”

  I hammered the fuck out of that nail, drowning out Luke’s chuckles and the burning desire between my legs. He’d already had a small taste of me, and him talking like that…it only made me want him more. I wanted him to taste me again. For a brief moment, while focusing on the hammering of the nail, I pictured his head between my legs, licking and sucking, tasting every bit of me.

  Whew!

  “I’m going inside to get a drink,” I said, climbing down the ladder. I left my hammer and other materials on top, planning to come back with a clear head.

  “Good.”

  “Why good?”

  “Because these idiots have been staring at your ass in those tight jeans while you work that hammer for the past ten minutes. It’s basically every man’s wet dream, Cammie.”

  I scrunched my nose and glanced over at the two men, both sporting sly grins right in my direction.

  “They’re harmless,” I crooned, turning back to Luke. I sometimes liked egging him on. That’s a lie. I always liked it.

  “I don’t want them staring at you,” he said as a matter-of-fact, crossing his forearms over his chest.

  “Why?” I inclined my head to the side, holding back a small smile.

  “Because, you know why.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and brought myself back to reality. I shook my head and started to walk away when Luke yelled at me, “Go grab some more nails!”

  I spun around fast, hearing the leaves crinkle beneath my feet.

  “Wha—”

  My hands made their way to my hips as I watched Luke climb my old, blue ladder, hammer in hand.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled from beside my porch.

  “Go get some nails, Cammie.”

  “There are nails up there.” I scrunched my eyebrows, nodding my head toward the top of the ladder.

  Luke looked down and laughed. “There are three nails. Are you really expecting this board to stand against eighty mile-an-hour wind with three nails?” He rolled his eyes and I stood there like a bewildered idiot. “Plus, I need some for my house.”

  “Go get your own!”

  “I don’t wanna go to the hardware store. Chop chop, we’ve got a storm comin’, darlin’.” There it was. That cute side of him emerging, making dormant butterflies swarm in my stomach.

  I turned around quick and headed inside to clear my head, and… to grab some more nails.

  * * *

  When I walked inside my house, after throwing the nails at Luke (relax, they were still in a box. I wouldn’t dare harm valuable goods), I stood at my kitchen window, the only window left to board, and my God, the sight of Luke and his sandy blond hair all jumbled from the wind was breathtaking. He had taken off his red and black, flannel shirt and was left standing on the ladder in his grey undershirt, muscles moving so swiftly from each pound of the hammer.

  I should be ladylike and grab him something to drink. I mean, he was boarding my house up for me even after I’d thrown nails at him.

  I dropped my water bottle straight into the sink when I saw him start to peel off his grey shirt. I gulped. Holy shit, now he was stripping. I averted my eyes for a moment, reaching into my sink to grab the plastic bottle, and then peeked up again. He wasn’t looking at me. He was too busy grabbing nails and placing them between his beautiful lips.

  I bet when he lived down in South Carolina, his mom probably made him that southern sweet tea. I could almost picture it. Luke working outside, sporting a farmer’s tan, gulping down that sweet, sweet, southern tea. Could you imagine Luke as one of those farmer boys who was always out and about in the South Carolina sun? Working on the farm, wearing worn Levi’s and nothing more but a cowboy hat. I bet all the young, pretty girls brought him sweet tea, just to watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down with each drink.

  It was too bad that I didn’t have any sweet tea. Besides, what would he think if I stepped outside and brought him some? He’d probably assume it was an invitation to get into my pants, me trying to impress him with my delicious sweet tea skills. He would definitely take it as an invitation.

  But let’s face it. It would totally be a ploy to get him into my pants, and I would totally let him.

  IF… this were another time in another life. IF he were a farmer maybe, but not a military man. Nope. If I had Luke, I’d want all of him forever. Not just for a small amount of time before he got called away to fight for his country. I wouldn’t want to give him up… and that’s exactly what I would have to do.

  Sixteen

  When I walked back outside, I could tell the wind had picked up its speed. The weatherman, Bill from News 6, said Bernadette wouldn’t hit New Bern until tomorrow evening. I had one more shift at work, tonight, and then when I made it back home in the morning, I would stock up on the rest of the things I needed to ride this baby out.

  My hair swished in front of my face and the second I pushed it aside to toss Luke the water bottle I’d brought for him, I paused mid-step. What was he doing? Luke held my phone in its purple case to his ear and was nodding his head, obviously talking to whoever was on the other line.

  When his green gaze spotted mine, he squinted, just a bit, but it was a puzzling squint. Like he was confused. God, who could it be? What if it’s Grant? Oh my god! He probably called the cops and is pressing charges or something for his now lack of hair. I can’t go to jail! I won’t survive. I’m way too high-maintenance for all of that.

  I walked a few more feet toward Luke, eyeing him suspiciously and trying to gather any clue about who was on the other end.

  “Yes, sir. I have one more left to board.” My eyes went wide. Jesus Christ, is talking to my dad?! Why would he answer my dad’s call? It wasn’t like he wasn’t programed into my phone! Luke knew it was my dad!

  I mo
uthed, “What the hell!” But Luke only ignored me, continuing on with his conversation.

  “I’ll tell her, sir. And I will.”

  Then he hung up. I glared. I glared my hardest, most withering stare, but Luke continued to act casual.

  I leaned against the side of my house, dropping the water bottle to the ground, and crossed my arms. I was fuming.

  “Your dad said to tell you…thanks.” That was all Luke said, then he went back to hammering.

  I didn’t say anything, instead getting swept up in my thoughts. I knew my father would assume that me sending my twin sisters their first birthday gifts was a peace offering and maybe it was a little bit. Not really from me to him, but from me to them it was. They didn’t deserve the cold shoulder. They were babies. They didn’t choose their names, they didn’t choose for my father to cheat on my mom, and they surely didn’t choose for him to knock up Carrie. They were my half-sisters and I wasn’t that cold-hearted. They were going to need me down the road.

  The funny thing was, though, I picked out two of the most annoying and loudest musical instrument-like toys to send them. It would drive my dad crazy but not seem like I intentionally sent annoying gifts. They were really cool toys and I knew the girls would love them, while effectively annoying my father at the same time. What’s that? Oh, that’s just evil Cammie laughing in the background.

  I snickered at myself and then pulled back when I realized Luke was standing a few feet in front of me. I tried not to make it obvious that I was wafting the smell of his cologne and husky scent toward myself, but with the gleam in his eye, I wasn’t sure that I was successful.

  “It’s funny how surprised the ol’ general acted when I answered your phone.” Luke raised his eyebrows, and I only shrugged.

  “He was probably equally surprised that when someone finally answered the phone, it wasn’t his daughter.”

  He laughed, “Yeah, I kind of got that. He gave me the, ah, the dad-talk.”

  I laughed hard so hard that Luke started to chuckle, too.

  “He probably thought you were my boyfriend.” I quickly stopped laughing when a malicious smile formed on Luke’s face.

  “Well, I told him I was.”

  My mouth gaped open. “LUCAS WELLS!”

  “What?”

  I swear, Luke could be so convincingly innocent at times. It was kind of scary. I bet he could get away with murder.

  “You work tonight?”

  “Yeah…” I said, still blindsided that he’d told my dad he was my boyfriend. He was not my boyfriend, gah. He was so irritating!

  “But, what about when the storm hits?”

  “I’m off for the next few days after tonight.” I snatched my phone out of his hand and looked at the time.

  “I gotta go get ready, actually,” I said, already cursing myself for not catching a small nap before I headed in.

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing when he reached in his back pocket to pull out his phone. He audibly growled when he saw whoever had called or texted him.

  “Yeah, okay,” I said when he started to walk back to his house. “And…thanks for helping…”

  “I’ll clean up the yard; go get ready,” he replied without looking at me.

  It was weird how his demeanor had changed within seconds. He ignored his friends when he walked past them on the porch and they looked back and forth to one another with knowing looks before following him inside.

  Weird.

  The howling wind woke me up with a groggy jerk out of my bed. I sat up straight, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and hastily grabbed my phone off my bedside table to see the time.

  7:08 p.m.

  Great. I’d slept most of the day. Thankfully, after my very long and exhausting shift at the hospital, I had been able to run by our small grocery store to grab some necessities for tonight. You know—more wine, chocolate chips (in case a certain someone came over), non-perishable food, and two cases of bottled water. I’d be A-Okay if the power went out, and by the sound of the wind and rain slapping against my window, it would be out sooner rather than later.

  I had welcomed my shift at the hospital with open arms. We were swamped, the ER taking the brunt with several men (and a few self-sufficient women) coming in with accidents from trying to prepare for the hurricane. I had to bounce back and forth between the floors, losing myself in bandaging wounds and performing tetanus shots, which thankfully helped steer my mind away from my earlier encounter with Luke.

  He’d seemed so…off when he’d seen whatever was on his phone, and I couldn’t quite shake the rare and few between moments that my mind did drift to him. Like right now, staring out my bedroom window through the dreary darkness of my half-boarded up window. Luke was right; I sucked at boarding my windows.

  I wondered what he was doing. No! Stop. I blew air out of my mouth and walked out of my bedroom, heading straight for the kitchen to whip something up for dinner before the power really did go out.

  When I got to the sink, that was when I peeped through the tiny sliver of non-boarded window to see if I could spot any lights on in Luke’s house. It was a terrible habit, me spying on him, but it was the one guilty pleasure that I couldn’t quite give up…yet.

  I couldn’t make out anything through the darkness, but I could glimpse a tiny glow of light through his window. It was boarded-up earlier, but somehow, it wasn’t boarded-up now. Whether that was from the wind knocking it down or the harsh rain, I wasn’t sure. Suddenly, I jumped back and squealed as the wooden plank swung slightly off my window. Jesus, the winds were picking up pace and they were doing it fast! I placed my hand on my chest to calm my erratic breathing, and then squinted my eyes back towards Luke’s window. Our eyes met instantly, like he was waiting for me. His body was illumined in the window with just the one dim light on in the background. He was wearing what looked like a black t-shirt, and if I tried hard enough, I could see his perfect green eyes, too. I reached my hand up and waved at him.

  So, what? I was playing nice tonight. Whatever.

  When his smiled lifted on one side, I couldn’t help but feel my mouth do the same and then, BAM!

  The lights shuddered off. I jumped back and let out another shriek, my eyes searching the darkness for Luke, although I knew I wouldn’t be able to see him. It was pitch-black and the gusty rain didn’t help matters.

  I thought about texting him, but the service was sure to be spotty from the weather, so I let out a frustrated sigh while fiddling with a granola bar in the dark of my kitchen. My bare feet pattered against my hardwood floor as I went into the living room to light some candles. I would just read a book; that would keep my mind off Luke and the increasingly loud, howling wind outside.

  I shivered as I heard a tree branch whip against the side of my house. I held my breath for a moment, allowing myself to feel afraid for about three seconds, and then I grabbed the lighter off my coffee table and flicked it on, staring at the red and orange flame before my finger let off of the trigger.

  My head lurched to my front door when I heard a terrible screeching noise. It sounded like a cat dying, getting louder with each howl of wind. I walked over to the front door, slowly, before I put my ear against the wooden panel, and then I shot back again, heart racing in my chest.

  “Oh no!” I said, as my fingers reached my mouth.

  I was pretty sure it was a cat and it really did sound like it was dying. Its cry resembled a meowing noise mixed with a high-pitched scream. Before I knew it, I was grabbing my grey cotton jacket off the coat rack and pulling the hood up over my head. I slipped on my pink rain boots and quickly grabbed the nearby flashlight, flipping it on.

  When I opened the front door, a deep chill set throughout my bones. It was absolutely astounding how beautiful the weather had been just a day ago, and now it was a wicked hurricane, destroying everything in its wake.

  The shrieking noise had stopped for a moment, so I paused at the threshold of my ho
use, about to retreat back inside from the awfulness of the storm, when it started up again. The noise was coming from the in-between part of Luke’s and my identical front porches.

  My heart was beating ferociously in my chest as I crept down the front steps, making sure that my front door was closed and secure.

  The rain that found my bare shoulders even through my cotton jacket was bitterly cold. I had been out in the storm for maybe five seconds, and I was already soaked from head to toe. I realized pretty quickly that I hadn’t really thought this plan through. I was only wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants tucked into my rain boots, and a tank top underneath my jacket. That was all I had to protect myself from this storm, but the poor cat had nothing to protect it, so I continued on my mission.

  My boots squished in the rain-soaked grass. I wiped away the rain coating my face and let my eyes adjust to the beam of light from my flashlight. I was getting close to the cat by the way its piercing meows had grown louder. The closer I got to the sound, the closer I got to Luke’s porch.

  How is he not hearing this poor animal?

  I heard one last cry from the cat and finally spotted its soaked black and grey fur. It was stuck! My heart dropped when I saw the tree branch lying on its long, tangled tail. Its glowing, green eyes found mine, and then it meowed even louder. As if it were asking me for help.

  Or telling me to go away. One or the other.

  “You poor thing!” I whispered, tasting the chilly rain that dripped into my mouth.

  I walked over to it quickly, placing my flashlight on the muddy ground, and put my hands on the branch to lift it up. Just as I grasped it, a huge branch suddenly came swinging down, missing my head by a hair.

  “Argh! Shit!” I yelled, falling back onto my hands. The freezing mud coated my palms, but I leaned forward again, getting on my knees to move both branches. I reached for my flashlight to see better, but it had disappeared somewhere in the muddy mess.

  “CAMMIE! What the hell!” A loud voice boomed through the hurricane winds.