ALWAYS (A Wolfe Brothers Novel) Read online

  But two obstacles stood in his path; finding time in between caring for Gramps, and a hot saucy redhead who wanted to be friends. Would she really revoke the permits if he didn’t take her hiking? He threw an arm over his eyes. “Want to go hiking?”

  “This weekend good for you?” she asked.

  Cam dragged his hand through his hair. “Sixty percent chance of rain this weekend.”

  “I have tennis every weekend,” Maggie said. “I already cleared my schedule.”

  He covered his mouth with his fist. “How many miles were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Something we could do in two days. Start Friday. Get back Sunday.”

  “Have you ever been on an overnight hike?”

  “No.”

  “The only restroom for miles is a hole in the ground.” Cam waited. He waited some more. “Hello?”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  “Do you have hiking boots?”

  “No.”

  “Buy some. Today. Wear them as much as possible for the next three days. Sleep with them on. If you get a blister halfway through, I’m not carrying your ass the rest of the way. I will leave you wherever you drop.”

  “Are you always this charming? Or am I special?”

  “I’m not trying to be a dick, but I am not friend material. I’m doing this as a thanks for helping me and because I don’t want to see you get hurt while hiking, but that’s as far as this goes. We will never be friends.”

  “Sure BFF.”

  “Separate tents.”

  “Got it.”

  “Come Sunday we’re even,” Cam said. “I owe you nothing. I’m paid in full.”

  “What time on Friday?”

  “Noon. What do you have for supplies?”

  “A sleeping bag. I could probably borrow a tent.”

  Cam sighed. “Get a pen and paper. I’ll wait.”

  # # #

  After work, Jags drove to Conroe’s Flowers & More florist shop. Approaching the counter, he stretched out his hand. “Good afternoon, Charlie.”

  The elderly man rocked back on his heels and they shook. His yellow crooked teeth showcased a genuine smile. “Mr.—.”

  “Damn it. Call me Jags.”

  “Jags. I’ve your order right here.” Charlie pulled a bouquet of flowers from under the counter, seven black and seven white roses.

  “Sure appreciate it.” Jags took the flowers. “Charge it to my account.”

  Charlie waved. “See you next Tuesday.”

  Jags laid the roses across his lap. He shifted to drive and drove to Oak Creek Cemetery. Upon arriving, he climbed out of the truck and strolled through the sea of headstones.

  When he found Keith Hammond’s grave, he knelt on one knee and bowed his head. “I beg your forgiveness. I will carry the injustice until my heart stops beating.”

  After laying the fresh roses down, he grabbed the wilted flowers he’d left last Tuesday, stood and walked to the woods edge. He came upon a shallow hole on the edge of the woods. Dropping to his knees, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the wilted flowers on fire. “I beg your forgiveness. I will carry the injustice until my heart stops beating.”

  The ashes grew cold before he climbed to his feet and strode back to his truck. He folded his arms over his head and leaned against the driver’s door, his forehead pressed against his forearm.

  “God help me.”

  Chapter Six

  Cam had tossed and turned all night, dreading the idea of leaving Gramps’ care to his irresponsible brother. He slid his phone from his pocket and checked the time. Jags was forty minutes late, not surprising. Maggie hadn’t arrived yet and for some reason that hadn’t surprised him either.

  Cam heard a knock and cursed under his breath. Whipping the door open, he said, “About friggin’—” He could overlook the green T-shirt with ‘Princess’ spelled out in silver glitter, but her green beaded necklace and emerald loop earrings warranted a significant smirk.

  Maggie’s red hair draped over her shoulders. Soft curls framed her beautiful face. Her full lips formed a sexy smile and he grew erect. Three days alone in the woods with her. Why the hell had he agreed to this?

  Vow of celibacy. The thought slammed into his consciousness like a wet rag. “Dammit.”

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “I’m gonna be a minute.” He walked to the bookcase behind Gramps’ recliner, propped a booted foot behind and crossed his arms over his chest. “Jags isn’t here yet.”

  She followed him inside. Her gaze settled on Gramps. “Are you going to introduce us?”

  “He won’t remember you five minutes from now.”

  “Introduce us anyway.”

  Cam stretched out his hand, his expression one of boredom. “Gramps, this is Maggie.”

  “Did you bring me any cigarettes?”

  Cam said, “You don’t fuckin’ smoke.”

  “I don’t?”

  “We both know you’ve been smoking. Where did you get the cigarettes from?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  Jags rushed through the front door. He wore an Affliction-Brandon red shirt, mid-rise maroon sneakers and a silver hoop earring in each of his ear lobes. “Hey sweetness.” He hugged Maggie and crouched beside Gramps.

  “Did you bring me any cigarettes?”

  Jags sighed. “You quit smoking. Don’t you remember?”

  “I did?”

  Jags glanced up at Cam. “One of these days we’re going to figure out who’s getting him the cigarettes.”

  Cam nodded. “And then beat the piss out of ‘em.” He pulled a tray stand in front of Gramps and set a sandwich on top.

  Gramps said, “I don’t like peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”

  “You love ‘em.”

  Gramps shoved the plate away. “Get this horse manure away from me.”

  Cam slid the plate back. “Take a bite. You’ll see.”

  Maggie walked into the kitchen. “I’ll make him a sandwich. What kind does he like?”

  He stormed after her, infuriated she had the nerve to butt her nose where it didn’t belong. As if she would know more than he, what Gramps liked or needed.

  “I can take care of it myself,” Cam growled. “And he likes peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”

  Maggie opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. “It would seem he doesn’t.”

  “Mind your own damn business.”

  Maggie closed the cabinet and walked to the living room. She grasped Gramps’ bony hand, kissed him on the cheek and nipped at the sandwich, gagging as she swallowed.

  “It’s good,” she said. “Want a bite?”

  Gramps patted their clasped hands. “What a sweet girl?” He glanced at Cam. “She’s a fine woman.”

  Cam allowed himself a laugh. Damn, it felt good. He had her pegged as a conceited snob who thought of nobody but herself. Here she was, bewitching his grandfather with her beauty and charm. Who was he kidding? Cam was the one she’d bewitched, not Gramps.

  “We’re just friends,” Cam said.

  “Nonsense. Look at her.”

  “I got it.” What the fuck! “Will you just take a bite of the damn sandwich?”

  Gramps patted Maggie’s hand. “Thank you for the sandwich, dear.”

  When Gramps opened his mouth, so did Cam. When Gramps’ closed his mouth around the sandwich, Cam closed his mouth. Gramps took another bite and turned his attention back at the television.

  Cam quirked an I-told-you-so brow and strode back to the kitchen. “Jags. Get your ass in here.”

  “Coming.”

  Cam picked up a small white bottle off the counter. “These are chewable tablets. He takes them twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. Make sure he takes it at least thirty minutes before he eats.” Picking another bottle up, he continued, “This one is a liquid. He gets it twice a day too but it doesn’t matter if he’s eaten or not.” A notebook protruded from a nook between t
he microwave and wall. Cam slid it out. “It’s all in here.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Jags said. “Go.”

  “Make him a peanut butter and banana sandwich tomorrow for lunch.”

  Winking, Jags ushered him toward the door. “Have a great time.”

  “He’s been having trouble swallowing so I made an extra pitcher of smoothies. They’re in the freezer.” Cam lifted a large red backpack from the corner of the kitchen and knelt beside Gramps. “I’m gonna be gone a couple days, but Jags'll be here.”

  Gramps patted his hand. “You’re such a good boy.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re Cam?”

  “Yup.” He took Maggie by the elbow and dragged her toward the front door. “Let’s go.”

  “Bye Maggie.” Gramps waved.

  She waved back. “Bye Gramps.”

  As they approached her silver CTS, Cam blocked Jags’ path. “He remembers Maggie, someone he just met, but not me?”

  Jags laughed. “You have to admit, she’s someone you don’t forget too easily.”

  She popped the trunk. “We’re taking my car, right?”

  “I probably won’t get much reception,” Cam said. “But I’ll keep my phone with me anyway.” He dropped his pack in the trunk. “So call, if anything comes up, just in case I do get some reception.”

  Jags opened the passenger door and guided Cam to the seat. “Watch your head.”

  “Both medicines twice a day,” Cam said. “The chewable tablets thirty minutes before a meal.”

  Jags closed the door and waved. “You kids have a good time.”

  Chapter Seven

  An hour into the hike and after listening to her chatter with barely a pause to take a breath, he contemplated setting his hair on fire. Despite his refusal to talk, Maggie never shut her trap, seemingly unaware she’d monopolized both sides of the conversation. His silence forced her to change the subject from him to herself.

  Cam learned she liked to play tennis and had won a few regional competitions. He laughed out loud when she said how much her favorite pair a boots cost, more than his first car. Despite her eternal dieting endeavors, Maggie loved to eat out and admitted she barely touched the food she’d order. The last time Cam ate at a restaurant was last year for Jags’ birthday.

  The wind shifted and he caught the scent of her perfume, a blend of berries with a hint of vanilla. His cock hardened. Groaning, he whipped around.

  Stumbling over the rocky terrain, Maggie continued forward, her eyes on the ground, her steps careful. Cam put his hands on her hips to keep her from walking into him.

  Maggie looked up.

  He ran his eyes over the length of her body. Tilting his head, he tucked his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled. His fingers tightened around her waist and he felt her shudder. She sighed and he tasted cherry on her breath, remnants of the Lifesaver she’d been sucking on.

  Stepping backward, he ran a hand over his head. “Wait here.” Determined to keep her from breaking him, he veered off the trail and plucked a pine cone from a nearby tree.

  He thought about his recipe for meatloaf. With another quarter cup of diced tomatoes and onions, he might be able to duplicate Mee Maw’s secret recipe. It was worth a try but two more eggs would be needed to keep the meatloaf from falling apart.

  The leaves on the ground rustled and a black snake slithered from beneath. Cam waited for it to pass. As he approached the trail where he’d left Maggie, he felt confident his primal urges were in check.

  Maggie sat on a rock. He set the pine cone beside her, retrieved a fist-sized stone from the ground and smashed it. Sifting through the shattered bark, he found two brown seeds. Using his thumb and forefinger, he crushed the pods and peeled off the shells.

  “Here.”

  “You can eat these?” Maggie asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Are they fattening?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll pass.”

  Shrugging, Cam tossed the nuts in his mouth and continued along the marked trail.

  Maggie followed. “What kind of stuff do you like to cook?”

  “Food.”

  “You’re not going to talk for the next two days?”

  “You’re quick.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Cam held a branch back, waited for her to pass and let it go. Pushing past her, he resumed his position as leader. He approached a steep slope, turned and offered her his hand. “Walk sideways. It’ll be easier to maneuver the loose gravel.”

  She took his hand and shuffled up the path. “Do you find me attractive?”

  Cam bit back a curse. “Why does it matter?”

  “Why do you think?”

  Cam glanced over his shoulder, shook his head and looked forward, his booted feet trudging along the well-worn path. “It’s not gonna happen. You’re wasting your time.”

  “Jags told me that you have a little problem I could help with.”

  “I’m sure he did.” Jags had always butted his nose where it hadn’t belonged, but this was a whole new level of what-the-fuck.

  “We can’t even be friends?”

  “Are you one of those pathetic women who are drawn to men that constantly shit on them?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Well enlighten me on what you consider shit on because I’m clueless.”

  “Friends.”

  “That would be too complicated and I don’t have or need any friends.” He looked back. “Are your boots waterproof?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Why does it have to be complicated? How ‘bout friends with benefits?”

  Cam crouched, one knee on the ground for balance. When she squatted beside him, he said, “I don’t work like that.” He pointed. “That’s poison ivy. You can tell by the leaves. They’re almond-shaped and shiny.”

  “Afraid you might actually start to like me?”

  He gripped her elbow, stood and yanked her up with him. “You may find this hard to believe but I don’t fuck, I make love. And since I don’t love you, friends with benefits is not an option. Is that clear enough?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t possibly be serious.”

  “I’m not a nice guy.” When she let out a condescending laugh, he shook his head and stomped along the trail, with Maggie following closely behind. Too closely.

  “Oh please. Really? I think I read that once or twice in a cheesy romance novel. Okay, I’ll bite. Why are you not a nice guy? You rob banks. You’re an alcoholic or a drug addict. You like to fart in elevators and closed cars. You’re a restless sleeper and hog all the covers. I mean, how bad could you be? After all, you did rescue a damsel in distress.” She snapped her fingers. “I know. You like to get rough with your women when they get out of line.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

  She gasped. “No.”

  Cam faced her, his body inches from hers, hoping his size and the snarl on his lips conveyed the sincere warning in his heart. “Yup.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  He picked up a pebble. “This is you.” Cam closed his fist around the stone until his knuckles turned white. “You’re in the middle of nowhere with a man who just told you he likes to beat his women, a man who could squash you like a bug.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “But you don’t believe it.”

  “Men who beat women don’t usually fess up about it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And how would you know that?”

  “I just know.”

  Cam pitched the rock and seized her upper arm. Through clenched teeth, he growled, “Who hurt you?”

  Maggie jerked from his hold and scowled. ‘Not me, a friend of mine.”

  His blood boiled, his face burned hot. As that familiar surge of fury surfaced, he willed a lightning bolt to incinerate him. With a nod, he turned and continued walking.

  “What I can’t figure out,” she said. �
��Is why you would lie about something like that. I suppose you could be trying to scare me off but that still doesn’t explain why you want to scare me off.”

  “Is it so hard to believe that I’m just not attracted to you?”

  “Yes.”

  # # #

  An hour had passed and her efforts of seduction had failed. Hell, she couldn’t even lure him into a conversation.

  “Slow down.” Tired and hot, Maggie longed to hear three simple words. We’ll camp here.

  “Speed up.”

  “Can we take a break?” This man’s a machine. I think I’m going to faint.

  The muscles in her legs burned and quivered. She plunked to the ground. With her legs stretched forward and her palms braced on the ground behind her she heaved a sigh. “Much better.”

  “Three minutes.” Cam leaned against a tall rock, pulled an apple from his backpack and took a bite.

  She climbed to her feet and took a step toward him.

  Cam leaned back, as if she had small pox and he’d never been vaccinated.

  Keeping her focus on the ring dangling from his neck, Maggie slid two fingers beneath the gold. When her finger grazed his olive skin, he hissed as if her touch was painful.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “It’s a poor man’s ring.”

  “Did it belong to someone in your family?”

  A horsefly dived at his head and he ducked. “Yup.”

  He swatted but missed. The pest circled his head. Cam’s arm’s flailed as if a hive of insects attacked him, not a solitary horsefly.

  From her backpack, she removed a can of hairspray and misted the sticky dew above his head.

  He plucked the can from her. Leaning over, his hands on his knees, he coughed and gasped.

  Maggie snatched it back. “No more horsefly.”

  He crawled toward her. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “I use it every day and it hasn’t killed me yet. Suck it up.”

  Cam lifted his hand in front of his face. Dirt clung to his fingers. His fingers clung to each other. Two more horseflies buzzed him.

  His heated gaze snapped to her. “It’s not even dead.”