I Crave You - C.C. Wood Page 0,5

haven't spent a lot of time together since he came back to town."

Suddenly, Sierra giggled.

Worried, I studied her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, still giggling.

"Okay, I'm confused. What's so funny?"

Between bursts of laughter, Sierra managed to say, "He'll be back later for a milkshake."

I continued to stare at her, which made her laugh harder. She bent over, smacking her thigh with her hand as she whooped. "Sierra! What is so funny?"

Wiping her eyes, she straightened and grinned at me. The moment she opened her mouth, it clicked. I knew exactly what she was about to say.

"Your milkshake brings all the boys to the yard."

Without a word, I turned and marched off in the direction of my car.

"W-W-Wait for me," Sierra sputtered. "I may not be a boy, but I want a milkshake too!"

And now everyone on the street was staring at me.

Shit. No doubt I'd be hearing from my mother about this.

2

My phone rang the moment I pulled into the driveway. I glanced at the screen and cringed. As I expected, it was my mother. The grapevine in Farley moved faster than the speed of sound.

My mama, Colette McClane, was soft-spoken and sweet, a true Southern lady. But she carried a steel spine beneath that gentle exterior. And she could rip you to shreds without raising her voice or even using cruel words. Instead, she would tell you how disappointed she was in your choices. And that there were always consequences to your actions. Sometimes, she even cried. It was torture. She balanced that power with a dry sense of humor and the ability to not take herself too seriously. Which meant she was an awesome mom. Most of the time. Lately, however, she'd gotten it in her head that I needed to find a man. A good man. Someone intelligent, at least moderately successful, and preferably not living with his mother.

I was beginning to think that was a tall order since all the men I met seemed to be lacking in one way or another. Then again, I hadn't met someone new in nearly two years. Which meant my mother was also convinced I was a workaholic and despaired her chances to have grandchildren to spoil before she was "too old to enjoy them."

Forget the fact that I had an older brother who could also provide those grandchildren. I was pretty sure Mom had given up all hope after his last stunt. She'd been complaining to him about how all her friends had grandbabies and she didn't so the next time he came home, he brought a woman named Clea. She was adorable and sweet but dumber than a box of rocks. He only brought her the once but when Mom started in on him again the next time he came over to Sunday lunch, he told her that Clea would be the mother of his children. Mom never brought it up with him again.

Hence the reason I was the only one who got the guilt trip about not having kids yet.

With a sigh, I picked up my phone. It was better to answer now than let her marinate in whatever she had to say.

"Hey, Mama," I answered as I shut off my car and climbed out.

"Hi, Cameron. How are you doing today?"

"Good. Great. Just running home to get Sierra settled before the shop opens."

"Oh, Sierra's here. That's wonderful. I hope you'll bring her by the house for lunch after church on Sunday."

Lunch on Sunday was a family tradition. My brother got out of it most of the time because he was rarely in town, but I was expected to show my face each and every Sunday or deal with Mom's verbal expressions of disappointment. And even at the age of twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight, I didn't want to face my mother's lectures when she was disappointed.

It didn't matter that I no longer went to church with them on a weekly basis since Sunday was usually a workday for me. It didn't matter that I was a grown woman who might have plans of her own. I was expected to arrive promptly at a quarter to one and stay until two-thirty, which gave me a half-hour to get to the store and open up. Sunday afternoons were a busy time for me. Texas stayed warm or even tortuously hot at least eight, sometimes nine, months out of the year, and my ice cream shop had quickly become the place to see and be seen by churchgoers, teenagers, and singles alike on