"No way." I leaned forward as well. "Unless she has pictures, it didn't happen."
Sierra grinned as though I'd challenged her. "You're right. I think I'll ask Suzy."
"Sierra..."
She laughed and hopped to her feet. "Oh, this is too good. Tell me why I didn't move to a small town sooner? It's a hotbed of gossip and eccentric characters."
"Because you don't want to be one of the eccentric characters everyone gossips about?" I asked.
"Good point. Considering how many churches are in Farley, you'd think more people would be worried about the stain on their soul from gossiping so much."
I laughed. "Are you kidding? Church is the perfect place to go if you want to catch up on the town gossip."
"Really?" she drawled. "How delightfully hypocritical. Maybe we should start attending with your parents on Sundays. I'm curious what's being said about us."
"I will say this much. Most of the people gossiping at church would repeat whatever they said behind your back directly to your face. In a nice way, of course."
It was Sierra's turn to laugh. "Man, I've been missing out. Next Sunday?"
"No way."
"I've heard that Brody Murphy started coming to church with your parents and he brings Jacks with him."
I mulled it over. "Not while we have all this unfinished business between us. Once the dust has settled, we'll see." I pointed a finger at her. "But that means you have to get up before noon on Sundays. Service starts at eleven."
"That may be a deal-breaker," Sierra admitted. "You know I'm not a morning person."
"Hey, you're the one who brought this up."
"Well, I changed my mind."
I laughed. "Too late. I'm telling Mom you suggested it."
"Don't you dare," she warned.
I made a show of picking up my cell phone.
"Cameron, don't do it."
"What'll you give me?"
"A knuckle sandwich if you keep pushing me. Bitches get stitches, remember?"
"I'm hurt. I thought it was hoes before bros."
"That too," she said.
"Fine. I won't tell her. Yet."
Sierra growled. "Tell me why we're friends again."
"Because we're too mean for anyone else to want to hang out with us."
"Good point."
I glanced at the clock. "We have to get back to work. I want to get home before dinnertime tonight."
Sierra reached across the desk and snatched my cell phone out of my hand. "Fine by me. I'll just hang on to this."
"Sierra, give that back."
"Maybe I'll text Brody and ask him for some dick pics."
I was on my feet in a flash. "Sierra."
With a wicked cackle, she dashed out of my office. I couldn't suppress my own maniacal laugh as I chased after her.
Thank God it was a Monday and we were the only ones here, because it would have been embarrassing for anyone to see us acting like a pair of idiots.
32
A week later, I was ready to say, "Fuck it."
I missed Brody. Following the delivery of the flowers and the picture, there'd been nothing else. After spending most of the day making ice cream and prepping for the week ahead, I was sitting in my office, staring into space.
I was supposed to be working on profit and loss statements, but I just couldn't seem to get my mind into gear.
Probably because all my thoughts were focused on a tall, dark-haired man with piercing green eyes. Eyes I hadn't seen in three weeks. I missed seeing them light up with humor or turn hot with desire.
I also missed the way he held my hand and the way he snuggled with me on the couch when we watched television. The way he cuddled with me at night.
And the sex.
I missed that a lot because it had been a lot longer than three weeks since I'd had it.
Sierra and Ben tried to be circumspect around me, but knowing they were doing all the things I wanted to do with Brody did not help my mood. I tried really hard not to let it show, but Sierra caught on and now they were spending their time together at Ben's house. She made it a point to stay home with me on my nights off, which I appreciated. Now that I'd had Brody in my life, I realized how lonely I'd been before his arrival.
I was getting ready to leave the shop when Nate, the postal worker who delivered our mail, knocked on the front door. I went over and unlocked it.
"Hey, Nate. How are you?"
"I'm good, Cam. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. Do you want a shake or something?"
I often offered to make him a shake or smoothie when he was working in the summer. Or even a glass of ice water because I knew that walking around downtown in this heat had to be extremely uncomfortable.
"No, thanks. I have something I need you to sign for."
I took the electronic pad he gave me and scribbled my name across the signature line.
Nate handed me a stack of magazines and envelopes and then laid an envelope marked as Certified Mail on top.
"Thanks, Nate."
"Have a good one, Cam. See ya tomorrow."
He turned and walked away, whistling merrily as he went.
I carried everything inside and locked the door. I decided to take everything into the office and sort it out before heading home. Otherwise I'd have to come in early tomorrow to deal with it.
I sorted through the stack of mail, separating magazines and catalogs from envelopes. Who the heck still sent catalogs anymore now that online shopping was a thing? Then, I looked through the various-sized envelopes. Bill. Bill. Another bill. A credit card offer. The usual.
However, what wasn't usual was the certified letter at the bottom of the stack.
Who was Ernie Muffleson? Sounded like a fake name that Sierra would come up with, which instantly made me suspicious of what the envelope might contain. The only reason I opened it was because it was too small to hold anything weird or dangerous.
There were only a couple of sheets of folded paper. I slipped them out and opened them.
It was a letter. No one had sent me a letter in years. I'd actually complained about the lost art of letter writing to Brody not long before he broke up with me.
And as soon as I started to read, I knew exactly who'd written this letter to me.
My Dearest Cameron,
I hope I started this letter out to your satisfaction. I know you're particular about the letters you get from people.
The reason I'm writing to you is because I miss you like crazy. Text messages and phone calls seem too inadequate. Even this letter is inadequate when all I want to do is see you, hear your voice. Touch you.
I know the last time I saw you that you were angry with me. And it was justified. I can only tell you how sorry I am and promise never to do something so stupid again.
I hope by the time we see each other again, you'll have forgiven me. And that you liked the flowers and picture I sent you.
In case you aren't aware of it, I also love you like crazy too.
Yours Always,
Brody
It was the first and only love letter I'd ever received. It wasn't filled with romantic prose or sweeping declarations of undying love, but it was filled with exactly what I needed.