The Right Wish Read online

  “No,” Camaro said. “If you lay another hand on him,” she drew the boy closer, wrapping her arms around his thin shoulders, “I’ll call the cops.”

  “Don’t see no cops.” The streetlights illuminated a huge tatted guy. Unlike the boy, his platinum hair was long and stringy. Pete, no doubt. He lumbered closer under the grimy streetlight, throwing Camaro and the kids into shadow. “Don’t see nobody around.”

  “I’m not afraid of bullies.” Smaller than him by a significant amount, she lifted her chin.

  Tension she didn’t seem to register whipped through the guy. Pete obviously wasn’t expecting her attitude, and he didn’t like it. The fingers on his right hand curled into a fist.

  Seeing that, I didn’t walk anymore. I ran, diving between her and him just in time.

  The blow he’d intended for her skimmed my jaw. Just a graze, but it packed some serious power. My head snapped around and my vision dimmed.

  Camaro gasped. “Bradley!”

  “That all you got?” I planted my feet into the concrete in front of Camaro and the kids, even though my brain was rattled, my vision tunneling with a shit-ton of stars.

  I was an Indiana boy, raised by the toughest man I knew. I didn’t go down easy. Plus, Rush and I had taken a blow or two to toughen our stubborn heads when we’d been working the seedy-bar circuit on the wrong side of our college campus.

  “You’re a fucking asswipe, and a coward to aim shit like that at a woman.” I swiped my hand across my chin, surprised there wasn’t any blood.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve.” Pete returned my glare. “So does she, interfering with a man and his children.” His dark eyes narrowed on a spot behind me. “Gerald, Geraldine, come with your father. Now.”

  Their heads down, the kids moved out from behind Camaro. They cast curious glances at me before they stopped reluctantly beside their father. Pete dropped his big beefy hands on his son’s shoulders. Grimacing, the boy stood tall, but his spindly legs wobbled.

  “Stay out of my business.” Pete raised a fist and shook it at me. “And she better stay away from me and my kids.”

  “Don’t threaten her.” I erased the foot of distance between me and the asshole, bringing us eye to eye. Although Pete weighed fifty pounds more than me, most of it hung over his silver-skull-studded belt.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Pete gave me a disdainful look, his thick lips twisting.

  “I’m her friend, and now I’m your enemy. You come near Camaro again with your fist raised, or if I hear that you even looked at her the wrong way, it’ll be the last thing you do. I fucking guarantee it.”

  Chapter 8

  * * *

  Camaro

  “You narrowly escaped a very dangerous situation, Camaro,” Bradley said, moving to stand beside me as the children disappeared into the darkness with their father.

  “Cam.” I shook my head. “Not Camaro.”

  I was scared for Gerald and Geraldine. It was a familiar feeling, one I’d wrestled with since I met them, but nothing else about what had just happened was familiar.

  Bradley had defended me. Like I had value. Like I meant something. To him.

  Warmth spread outward from the center of my chest to the rest of me. I felt like a heroine in one of my stories, only this was real life.

  “All right.” Bradley’s voice was husky as he stepped in front of me. “Cam it is.”

  “Good,” I whispered, and it certainly was. Well, he was dazzling me with the way his golden hair and blue eyes sparkled, even in the dim light.

  “Cam, I need you to listen and not argue.” His expression earnest, he made my name sound like a prelude to an intimate request.

  “Okay.” I blinked up at him. His fresh citrus, rosemary, and woodsy scent muddled the air and my mind. “I’m listening.”

  “Are you sure?” His gaze narrowed. “You seem dazed.”

  Of course I was dazed. He was only a couple of inches away, my number one critic who had suddenly become my defender.

  “Pay attention. This is important.”

  He placed his hands on my shoulders, probably to focus me, but his touch had the opposite effect. My heart raced and warmth cascaded through me. My insides twirled in a circle of fire like glass melting inside a furnace.

  Had something changed between him and me? Was his sudden appearance and rescue indicative of a shift in his feelings? Was there some new dynamic between us that I’d missed?

  “What is it that you need to tell me?” Holding my breath, I waited for his answer.

  He licked his firm lips, and my gaze dipped to them. Dampened, their cinnamon surface glistened temptingly.

  “You can’t confront a guy like Pete.” Bradley’s voice was steely. “All by yourself. Alone. In the dark.”

  So there was change after all. Inside, I spun anew, scraping myself on the sharp edges of his disapproval.

  “You’re far too reckless when it comes to your own safety. Do you not have any sense?” His features hardening, he shook his head.

  “You don’t manage me, Bradley Marshall.” Swallowing hard, I shrugged free of his hold, telling myself his low opinion of me didn’t matter.

  That was a lie. His opinion mattered, and not just a little. It mattered too much.

  “I know that,” he said flatly. The sparkling light in his gaze had dimmed to a matte sheet of blue ice.

  “No, you don’t.” I took a step backward. “If you knew me at all, you’d know I would never stand aside when someone I care for is in trouble.”

  “Those children, you mean.”

  “Yes, of course.” I lifted my chin.

  “You?” His gaze swept over me. “Versus a behemoth like Pete?”

  “Yeah, I’m not that small, and I’m tougher than I look.” I took a determined step around him.

  “Whoa. Wait a minute. Where do you think you’re going?” Strong fingers closing around my upper arm, he stopped me.

  “Where I go isn’t your concern.” I glanced down at Bradley’s hand on my arm, then back up at him. My expression was as firm as his grip. “I am not your concern. You made it very clear that I’m not under your jurisdiction. Remember?”

  “You wouldn’t stand a chance against him,” he said.

  “Let go of me. I can take care of myself.” I shrugged, and he freed me. Immediately, I rubbed my arm where his fingers had been. His grip hadn’t been painful, but the warmth from it lingered.

  “You know very well Pete would have laid you out cold if I hadn’t arrived when I did.”

  I couldn’t argue. Bradley had a point. I dropped my chin, the fuel to fight him fizzling out. Truthfully, I didn’t really want to fight with him. I just wanted him to like me the way I liked him.

  “You’re probably right.” I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  “You’re welcome.” The ice in his eyes melting, his expression softened. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “Sorry you got hurt.” I winced, recalling the crack of Pete’s fist connecting with Bradley’s jawbone.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a thick skull, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  My lips curved, and this time, his gaze dipped to my mouth.

  My stomach fluttered. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time. I should have thanked you sooner.”

  When his gaze rose, it was warmer, and his expression was softer. “I didn’t do it expecting to earn your gratitude.”

  He moved close, so close I could feel the heat of his body. The brushed calfskin leather of his expensive loafers kissed the plastic of my cheap flip-flops.

  “I did it because it was the right thing to do,” he said softly. “I did it for the same reason you protected the children.”

  “You don’t care about me.” I shook my head, denying it. That was more unfathomable to me than his defending me.

  “Actually, I do. If you’d been paying better attention and using that smart brain of yours to
reason with me, instead of arguing, you would’ve realized it sooner.”

  My eyes widened. “You think I’m smart?”

  “Definitely.” His lips curved, creating enticing double crescents around his sexy mouth. “You have a startlingly advanced vocabulary. I’m on the receiving end of it often.”

  “But I piss you off. I make you crazy.”

  “You do. That’s the damn truth. But why the hell would I give you such a hard time about being careful if I didn’t want you safe?”

  I gave that some consideration. It was sound logic. “You should have been a lawyer.”

  He laughed. “You should have been an English teacher.” His gaze warmed, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. It made me feel warm to have amused him, and to have him looking at me like that. Nearly as warm as I’d been with his hands on me.

  “Can we be friends now, Cam?” He held out his hand. “Officially?”

  “Friends, huh?” I tilted my head but didn’t place my hand in his. The way my body reacted to him, it was wiser to avoid contact whenever possible. Squinting at him, I asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Bradley?”

  “You need to start calling me Brad.” He glanced down the length of his nose at me, giving me his bossy arrogant look.

  “Is that an order?” I lifted a brow.

  “It’s more of a friendly suggestion.” Sighing, he withdrew his outstretched hand and raked it through his hair while watching me carefully. “I don’t try to be a pompous ass.”

  My lips twitched. “You don’t have to try.”

  “Right. It comes naturally. Or at least it seems to a lot of the time around you.” His wry expression matched his tone. “I came looking for you tonight because I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier.”

  “I accept your apology.” I nodded firmly.

  “Thank you. Very magnanimous of you.”

  “We’re friends now. It wouldn’t be right to hold a grudge.”

  “Good for me. I’m sure I’ve given you plenty of reasons to be ticked at me.” His gaze drifted slowly and analytically over my features.

  “A few.” I pulled in a breath and let it out. “But if we’re going to do this, we should start with a clean slate, don’t you think?”

  “I do. And as a friend, I’m serious about you needing to be more careful. A guy like Pete who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt his own children wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you either.”

  I pressed my lips together, biting back a defensive remark that was part of my old pattern with him. He was right about Pete, but Brad didn’t need me to affirm him. His arrogance needed less fuel, not more.

  “Jewel told me you’ve been coming over here and helping those kids. That’s very kind.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He nodded, his hair sliding low on his brow. “I’m not meaning to insult you when I tell you to take care, Cam, I just want you to pause to consider consequences before you act.”

  There was a lot in what he’d just said to like, including how my name seemed to slip effortlessly from his lips.

  I dipped my head. “I’ll try to be more cautious.”

  “Good.” He looked pleased. Very pleased.

  Maybe my being agreeable was as welcome to him as his approval was to me.

  “But,” I said, “only if you promise to have a care for your safety too.”

  “I can do that.”

  Double crescents reappeared around his lips, and my fingertips tingled with the desire to trace them.

  “You, agreeing with me?” I shook my head. “I feel like we slipped into an alternate universe. It’s hard to believe we’re truly going to be friends now.”

  “Keep up, Cam.” His gaze drifted. He seemed distracted by my hair, which had come loose around my shoulders. “We’ve established that we’re already friends. That we’ve been friends for a while. You just didn’t pick up on it as quickly as I did.”

  “More like disapproving acquaintances.”

  “Being your friend doesn’t mean I’m going to condone everything you do.”

  “Translation, you’re going to keep trying to tell me what to do.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him. The man was authoritative at a cellular level. He certainly didn’t give Rush a pass when he disagreed with him.

  “I’m the manager, so I manage. And what I say goes, remember?”

  His lips lifted higher, and as if attached to them like a kite to a string, so did my mood.

  “Hmm.” I huffed out a breath. “We’ll see.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “I can see I’m going to have to work around that attitude of yours.” He reached in his jacket pocket, withdrew his cell, and thrust it at me. “Call Jewel. She’s worried about you.”

  “Okay.” I agreed, but he needed to clue in that I wasn’t the only one with an attitude.

  Before I could point that out, his phone rang in my hand. When I saw Jewel’s picture on the display, I answered the call.

  “Hey,” I said. “It’s me.”

  “Cam.” Jewel let out a shaky exhale. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Is Brad okay?”

  “Define okay.” I gave him a squinty-eyed look.

  “Is he unharmed?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay.”

  “Good. So, what the hell is going on? Why haven’t you answered any of my texts or calls?”

  I grimaced at her shrill tone. “I didn’t see any texts or hear any calls.”

  “Why the hell not, Cam?”

  My cheeks heated. “I was getting a lot of scam calls to my phone earlier, so I turned my ringer off and set it on the ground while I told Gerald and Geraldine a story. Then their father came along. Brad too. There was a disagreement,” I said, downplaying the events. “I forgot about my phone in all the confusion, I guess.”

  “Not cool.”

  “I realize that. Sorry I worried you.”

  “Go get your phone. Get it back in your hand, and keep it there. Ringer on always. Respond when I check on you.”

  “But do you accept my apology?” My voice shook. She sounded really mad. In my experience, love came with an expiration date. Had my mistake hastened the demise of hers?

  “Of course I accept it,” she said, and I exhaled in relief.

  Brad held out his hand. “Let me have my phone back.”

  I nodded to him. “I gotta go, Jewel.”

  “You coming home?”

  Rush’s condo wasn’t my home. In truth, I didn’t have one anymore. I was a guest, an outsider among the group until I overstayed my welcome.

  “I’ll head back to the condo after I retrieve my phone.”

  “Okay, honey,” Jewel said. “See you soon.”

  “Here,” I said to Brad, offering him his cell. “And thanks.”

  His long masculine fingers brushed my palm, accidental contact that scorched my skin, and I withdrew my hand quickly.

  The burn was a warning to keep my distance from Brad. But how was I going to do that with us being friends?

  Chapter 9

  * * *

  Bradley

  My gaze drifted to Camaro as she walked beside me on the return to Rush’s condo. I had a shit-ton of things I needed to get done before the band left in the morning, but all I wanted to do was look at her.

  If she noticed my repeated glances, she didn’t let on. But there was a crease between her delicate brows that seemed to deepen the closer we got to the condo.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked gruffly. It was a question, but it sounded more like a demand.

  She turned her head. “Huh?”

  The breeze lifted and animated tendrils of her hair as if she were on set in front of a wind machine for the sexy opening shot in a music video. I wondered if I could talk her into making an appearance in one of Rush’s. His sales would go through the roof. She could sell anything with just a single glance into the camera.

  “You seem distracted.” I dialed down
the demand in my tone. “Deep in thought. I wondered what about.” I shrugged as if my question were only casual interest.

  “You aren’t wearing your jacket.”

  Her gaze dipped to make her point, and I immediately mourned their loss. Her silver-green eyes were amazing and expressive. I liked having her gaze connected to mine.

  “I left it at the condo when I came to look for you,” I said.

  “Ah, yes.” She looked back up, and I reveled in having her eyes reconnected to mine. “I remember when you took it off.” Her crystal-clear voice dropped an octave. “You . . . uh . . .” She seemed to be struggling to focus. “You rarely take it off.”

  “I take it off plenty. But you only see me in full work mode.”

  One of her black brows rose. “You have another mode?”

  “Yes, I do. Occasionally.” My lips curved from her quip. I liked her using her attitude to tease rather than confront me. My gaze sharpened. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m worried about Gerald and Geraldine.” Her expression fell. “Worried what their father might do to them.”

  “Are those Pete’s kids?”

  She nodded.

  “Odd names.” If their names had been mentioned earlier, I hadn’t noticed. Most of my attention had been devoted to Cam.

  “Pete has a fascination for late-night television and not much imagination. I went to his studio once to talk to him.”

  “Explains a lot. But you shouldn’t have gone to his place alone.”

  “Maybe not, but it was during regular business hours.” She rubbed her arms as if she were cold.

  If I’d worn my jacket, I would have taken it off and put it on her. Imagining my clothing around her gave me an immediate primal surge of satisfaction.

  “Anyway,” she said, “it’s not me he targets. Well, not usually.”

  “He abuses them?” I asked, scowling.

  “Just Gerald.” She frowned. “And when he’s impaired. Gerald doesn’t talk about it, but I recognize the signs.” Her gaze unfocused again and the crease between her brow reappeared. “I don’t know what to do to stop it. I just know I have to do something.”