Wild for You (Crave Book 2)

by C. C. Wood

  I leaned back so I could see his face. "How about I call the old guy that drives an Uber and tell him to bring his forty-five?"

  "Marty?" he asked, knowing exactly who I was talking about.

  I nodded. "He likes me and promised to shoot any man that looked at me wrong while I was here. And he may have mentioned that if he was forty years younger, he'd still be too old for me but that wouldn't stop him from chasing me anyway."

  Ben chuckled. "Crazy coot."

  I gasped in mock outrage. "Hey, don't talk about my future boyfriend like that."

  He outright laughed and more than one head turned our way. "So what's your decision?"

  "One drink and we'll see how that goes. I'm still on the fence about your offer." It was a complete lie, but he didn't need to know that. Besides, I needed to give myself leeway in case I changed my mind between here and his place.

  Ben just smiled at me as though he could read my thoughts, but he didn't say anything to the contrary.

  He tilted his chin toward the bartender, who happened to be nearby, cutting limes and doing a horrible job at pretending she wasn't eavesdropping.

  "Put her tab on my card, Josey."

  "She's paid up," Josey answered without lifting her eyes from the cutting board.

  Ben fished his wallet out of his pocket and dropped a ten and couple ones on the counter. Hmmm, good tipper. That made me like him a little bit more.

  "I'll pay cash tonight then."

  Josey put down the paring knife, wiped her hands on a white towel, fished his credit card out of a small file box, and handed it to him. "Have a good night."

  While Ben was busy tucking his card back into his wallet, Josey winked at me. "Come see me again, girl."

  I nodded and rose when Ben backed up enough for me to stand.

  "I'll do that," I said before I let him lead me out of the bar.

  3

  In the dark interior of Ben's truck, I was having an internal freak out. Mostly because I couldn't remember if I'd shaved my legs that morning or not or if I was wearing deodorant.

  Before I could do a discreet check of my ankle for stubble, my cell phone rang. It was Cam.

  Crap.

  I answered and lifted the phone to my ear. "Hey."

  "Hey. While I appreciate the meal and the note that you left for me, you're not home."

  I bit my lip. "Nope."

  "Where are you?" She didn't sound upset. Only a little worried.

  I remained silent because it was my right. All the cop shows said so.

  "Sierra, where are you? Want me to come pick you up?" The worry was more intense now.

  Shit, no. I sighed. "I was at The Red Boot and ran into Ben. We're hanging out and he'll bring me home later."

  It was Cam's turn to be quiet. "You're with Ben? Are you okay?" she asked.

  "Yeah, of course I'm okay."

  "I wish you'd talk to me, Sierra," she said with a sigh.

  God, I hated this. If I talked to her, all it would do was remind me that I was a huge asshole.

  "It's not a pretty story, Cam, and I'm not the one who was wronged."

  "All the more reason to get it off your chest," she argued.

  "Not right now, okay? I just...it'll be a little while before I can even think about it without cringing, much less talk about it like a normal human being."

  "Okay," she relented. "But why Ben?"

  I shrugged even though she couldn't see me. "He's funny and he has vodka. And he doesn't know me well enough to ask the kinds of questions you do."

  Cam laughed a little. "He's also a good listener." I ignored the pointed statement when she paused. "Want me to wait up for you?" she asked.

  "Nah. Ben said he'll bring me. Unless he's a serial killer and you never told me, then I should probably tell you how much I love you right now."

  Cam laughed again and I laughed, too. "No, he's not a serial killer. He's not even the man ho everyone says he is. In fact, I always thought the two of you would hit it off if—"

  Okay, I was out. She was making a pointed attempt at matchmaking. "Hanging up now, Cam."

  I disconnected to the sound of her laughter.

  "Cam worried about you?" he asked.

  I nodded and tucked the phone under my leg.

  "Something to do with that Brian character?"

  I nodded again but didn't look at him.

  "Want to talk about it? I'm sure Cam said I was a good listener."

  This time I did look at him, but only after I'd rolled my eyes. "If I wanted to talk about it, I'd be home with Cam right now." I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. Shit. "I'm sorry. That was bitchy. But, no, I don't really want to talk about it. I'm the asshole in the story and I'm pretty sure it would kill the mood."

  And I hoped my little outburst hadn't just killed the mood either because I wasn't sure what I would do if that was the case.

  Ben may have said no pressure, but my lady bits hadn't gotten the memo. If I had to have a single drink with him and go home because I was hairy and stinky, I would probably die of blue bean.

  "You just got quiet," Ben commented. "Second thoughts?"

  "I'm fine." But a change of subject was in order. "Just worried you have weird stuff at your house."

  He glanced at me and I could see the flash of his smile in the dim cab. "Like what?"

  "Let's see...if you've got a big snake in an aquarium, I'm out. Snakes are okay but they don't belong in any room where I'm going to be."

  He laughed but didn't say anything. Which made me forget about my legs and armpits and start worrying about whether or not he had a big-ass python somewhere in his house.

  "Please tell me you don't own a snake or iguana or any other kind of exotic reptile that might otherwise bite, scratch, or squeeze me to death."

  Ben laughed again, longer and louder this time. "The only pet I have is Betty Boop."

  I waited but he didn't elucidate, so I prompted him. "Is Betty Boop a reptile or amphibian?"

  He shook his head.

  "Is she a mammal?"

  Another head shake.

  Now, I was getting really worried. If his choice of pets led me to miss out on what I hoped would be some awesome sex, I was going to be mightily put out.

  "Crustacean. Betty Boop is a hermit crab," he admitted.

  I grinned and bounced in my seat. "You have a hermit crab? That's awesome. I had one when I was a kid but never got another one because I travel too much for work."

  Ben shrugged. "I originally bought Betty for Jacks, but her mom refused to let her keep it. Something about not wanting a nasty bottom-dweller in her house."

  Hmmm. Jack's mom sounded like she'd get along great with my parents. "So you kept it?"

  "Well, yeah. How else will Jacks get to play with Betty?"

  My heart melted, just a little. He loved his niece.

  "Now that Monica and Brody are divorced, I need to hit him up about taking the aquarium home so Jacks can have her all the time and I can get some counter space back."

  "I bet Jacks would love that."

  I'd been so distracted by our conversation that I hadn't noticed that we'd left the city limits of Farley.

  "Wow, are you taking me to your secret murder spot?" I asked him as we continued down the dark road, not a streetlight in sight.

  Ben shot me a look. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

  I laughed. He not only got my sense of humor, he was able to throw it right back to me.

  He turned at a gravel drive and I saw the name Murphy on the mailbox as we passed by.

  "Wanted peace and quiet, huh?" I asked as we tooled down what had to be the longest driveway I'd ever seen. I couldn't even see the house due to the trees on each side of the drive.

  "Yep. Keeps the more persistent door-to-door solicitors at bay."

  The drive curved and he slowed, which was good because the house was right there. He hit the button on the garage door opener and pulled inside a ginormous garage. We were in the middle bay. On t
he right was a car under a tarp and on the left, I saw the hulking shape of his motorcycle. The chrome gleamed under the dim overhead light and I tried not to drool. I loved riding motorcycles. It had been a long time since I'd been on a bike, mostly because my college boyfriend got miffed when I told him I wanted to buy my own instead of always riding bitch.

  Apparently, that wasn't very feminine of me. Yeah, I rolled my eyes pretty hard at that one. Considering I had a vagina, I thought anything I enjoyed doing qualified as feminine.

  Needless to say, he didn't last much longer.

  "You like to ride?" Ben asked.

  Hmmm. This might be a nice way to see what he was made of.

  "Yeah. I was thinking about getting a bike of my own."

  Ben looked me over. "You're what? Five-two, five-three?"

  "Five-three," I answered. "Why?"

  "Finding a bike low enough to the ground for you might be an issue, but let me know when you decide you want one. I know a guy."

  That was not the response I'd expected. I gaped at him as he turned his back to me and climbed out of the truck. I was still processing his words when he came around and opened my door.

  "You okay?" he asked. "I can take you back to town if you're not sure about—"

  "I'm good," I interrupted. "Just thinking about what color I want my bike to be."

  I scooted to the edge of the seat and slid down. Why did trucks have to be so far off the ground?

  Ben's hands slipped around my waist to steady me when I landed hard on my feet. His hands felt strong even as he gently squeezed my sides.

  "All right?"

  I nodded, holding my breath because his eyes were locked on my lips. I wanted him to kiss me but the thought had my heart thundering in my chest.

  "Let's get inside and you can tell me more about this bike you want to buy."

  I suppressed my disappointment when he released my waist and grabbed my hand. I followed him through the side door and into the mud room-slash-laundry room. Then I stopped short in the kitchen. White cabinets were topped with black granite countertops and a huge eight-burner gas stove squatted to my left. I was pretty sure that Cam would go into throes of ecstasy when she saw it.

  "Nice kitchen," I said as Ben turned on the light. "Resale value?"

  Ben chuckled and tossed his keys in a little wooden tray on the counter to my right. "Nope. I cook a few times a week and Brody brings both Jacks and J.J. over for barbeques by the pool in the summer. I need plenty of room to spread out here because those two guys are okay cooks but they get in my way constantly."

  I could see him in this kitchen in his faded jeans and black tees, barefoot, as he made something delicious.

  "You cook?" I asked.

  Ben rolled his eyes. "Yes, I cook. You think having a dick means I don't make my own food?"

  I shook my head. "Nope. I have a vagina but I couldn't cook to save my life. I once scorched one of Cam's pans because I forgot I was boiling instant brown rice. It was so bad that she had to throw it away."

  He laughed. "How'd you forget you were cooking?"

  "Well, it's been a while, so I can't really remember. I think I was watching TV."

  Ben chuckled and walked over to a sleek stainless steel fridge and slid the bottom drawer out. He fished out a bottle of vodka and held it up. "Still want a drink?"

  I nodded and moved over to the island to boost myself up onto it.

  "Vodka and soda?"

  "Yes, please." I swung my legs aimlessly and watched as he moved around the kitchen, making me a drink. I didn't even have to ask him for lime because he grabbed one out of a bowl of fruit next to my hip and started slicing it up.

  "So earlier tonight you said you work with computers, right?" he asked. "Like IT or something else?"

  "I'm a computer programmer for a software developer. I write programs and apps, fix code and bugs, that sort of thing. I work remotely most of the time because they send me all sorts of places to work with their subsidiaries, which is nice, but I just got a promotion into management so I won't be required to travel as much."

  "Sounds like an interesting job."

  He brought me a glass with three lime wedges in it. Wow, he definitely paid attention to detail. That was something I appreciated in people. Like Josey the bartender and now Ben Murphy.

  Our fingers brushed when I took the drink and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

  "Thank you." I sipped my drink before I said, "It is an interesting job, at least to me. Cam's eyes glaze over when I talk about it too much. But what about you? You own a business here, right? Working on cars?"

  Ben nodded and headed back over to the other counter to make his drink. "I mostly do repair jobs but once in a while I get a restoration project and that's what I really enjoy doing. I like bringing old cars back to life."

  "See, that sounds interesting to me." I took another sip. "And this is a delicious drink, so why don't you tell me about it while I finish."

  Ben picked up his glass and stood next to the island, leaning his hip against the counter right next to my thigh. "What do you want to know?"

  "What does a typical day look like for you?" I asked. "Walk me through it." I'd always been curious about how other people lived their lives. As much as people are alike, they're also different in the most fascinating ways.

  His eyebrows lowered. "Seriously?"

  I nodded.

  "I have no idea where to start," he said.

  "What time do you get up? Like, what's your morning routine?" I asked.

  "It's pretty boring," he hedged.

  "Just tell me."

  "Promise you won't give me shit?"

  I grinned and shook my head. "But I'll tell you about how I usually roll out of bed and spend the entire day in my pajamas while I'm working and I won't get mad when you give me crap back."

  "Fine," he said with a sigh.

  "So, what time do you get up and what do you do in the morning before you go to work?"

  "I get up around five and work out. I'm usually showered and walking out the door with a protein shake or something by six-thirty. The shop opens at seven and I spend the first ten or fifteen minutes double-checking the schedule and projects for the day and make a pot of coffee. Cassie rolls in around seven-thirty and I go out into the shop to start on whatever needs to be done. I have three other guys that work for me so we don't just do repairs and restorations, we also do oil changes, tires, and other routine maintenance."

  "Sounds like you're pretty busy," I commented. "What time do you close up shop?"

  "Most days a little after five. We stay open if someone needs to come by after work to pick up their vehicle."

  "So you work ten or eleven hours a day?"

  Ben shrugged and lifted his glass to his lips. I watched his throat work as he swallowed. Watching a man drink should not be sexy. Jeez, what was going on with me?

  "Not every day, but a few days a week, yeah." He looked at me. "What about you? What do your days look like?"

  "Nuh-uh. What do you do after work?"

  He grunted and shook his head. "Not much. I come home. I either cook or pick up something on my way. I eat. I shower, watch TV or read, and go to bed."

  I cocked my head as he spoke. That certainly didn't sound like the kind of life a playboy bachelor would have. Blondie and her friend at the bar obviously didn't know shit about him. Or he was purposely leaving out his bar trolling to make himself look better.

  "What about dating?"

  Ben laughed. "I don't have a lot of time for that."

  I completely understood that because that's what I told Cam every time she said she was worried I wasn't getting out and meeting men. "What about marriage, kids, stuff like that? Or are you a confirmed bachelor?"

  He seemed completely unperturbed by the fact that I was practically interrogating him and shrugged. "I guess I think that when I meet the right woman, I'll make time for her."

  I gave him a light slap on his shoulder. "T
hat's exactly what I tell Cam when she asks me that question."

  "So you're waiting for the right woman, too?" he asked.

  I laughed and shook my head, but didn't answer.

  He finished his drink and gestured to my half-empty glass. "Do you want another?"

  I shook my head again.

  "Then, how about you tell me about a typical day for you."

  I sipped the vodka and soda before I answered. "I work long hours but I'm usually at home on my couch in my pajamas." I chuckled at the expression on his face. "Yeah, even when I shower, I usually dress in clean leggings and tees when I'm done, but they're still essentially pajamas."

  "So you're a hermit?"

  "Pretty much, but I kinda like it. People are...hard and sometimes it's just easier to avoid them."

  He didn't say anything to that, just looked at me as though I were a puzzle he was trying to figure out. His intensity was actually pretty flattering.

  I finished my drink and sat my glass next to his. "Speaking of hermits, can I see the rest of your house? Especially Betty Boop. She's a must on this tour." I asked. It was probably rude to ask him to show me around but I knew exactly where I wanted the tour to end—his bedroom.

  "Sure." He straightened from the counter and gestured to the bar that ran between the living room and the kitchen. I hadn't noticed it before, but there was a small tank on the opposite end.

  I slid off the island. At The Boot, I hadn't realized how much taller than me he was, but now it was obvious. Then again, I was only a few inches over five feet so he probably wasn't quite six feet tall. In my flat sneakers, I barely came up to his chin. I felt small, even delicate, which was rare for me.

  Would I feel the same way if I were lying under him in bed?

  My entire body flashed hot and I knew it was time to step away before I attacked him like a rabid animal. Humping his leg probably wouldn't impress him very much.

  I crept closer to the tank but all I could see was the shell, no crab in sight.

  "Guess it's past Betty's bedtime," I murmured, still feeling more than a little hot.

  Ben grinned. "Probably. Maybe you can meet her the next time you're here."

  The next time I was here? Was he already expecting a replay before we'd even gotten started? I shot him a sideways glance, but he was already moving away from me.