Just a Wish Away Page 3

  He hadn't been in the antique store since he was a kid, probably not since that last summer he'd hung out with Alexa. She used to help her aunt on the weekends and occasionally he joined her, although he'd never been as interested in the antiques as she had been. She'd loved making up stories about the treasures they sold, and like always he'd gotten caught up in her imagination. She could take almost anything and spin it into a story so real he thought it had actually happened. He'd admired her ability to escape reality so easily. Unfortunately, her imagination had been honed by an unhappy home life. She'd told him that when her parents started fighting, she'd pull the covers over her head and make up stories where she was part of some big, happy family.

  His household had been much happier, but his father had been gone a lot. He was career Army, and they'd moved around a lot before his mom finally decided to settle in Sand Harbor where her family was. He'd met Alexa shortly after his arrival, and he'd connected with her instantly. The reality that his dad might not make it home had been with him constantly. It was that nagging worry that had made escaping into Alexa's stories even more appealing. They'd been quite a pair, sharing everything. He'd told her things he'd never imagined he'd say out loud, much less to another person.

  A pang of nostalgia tightened his throat. Damn! He really didn't need this trip down memory lane. The last couple of months had been brutal, and he wasn't close to being a hundred percent in any part of his life.

  But this wasn't about Alexa; it was about her aunt. If he could do anything to help find out who had put Phoebe in the hospital, he was more than happy to help.

  There were lights on in the store, and through the front window, he could see someone moving around inside. The boarded-up door told him the break-in had been rough and unsophisticated. Maybe it had been some restless teenagers thinking it might be fun to vandalize the antique shop and hadn't realized anyone would come by after normal work hours.

  He turned the knob, but the door was locked. Knocking sharply on the wood, he hoped one of Phoebe's assistants could give him more information about what had happened.

  A moment later the door opened a few inches. A woman gave him a wary look. In the shadowy light, he thought his eyes were playing on tricks on him. But as the surprise flared in her blue gaze, his breath stopped.

  Alexa!

  She pulled the door all the way open, and for a moment all he could do was look at her. She was dressed in dark jeans, black boots, and a coral-colored sweater that hugged her curves. Her blonde hair was swept back from her face in a thick ponytail that hung past her shoulders. There was only a hint of the freckles that had once dotted her nose. Dark lashes framed her beautiful eyes and her light pink lips were soft and sexy.

  Damn! She'd been a fantasy in his head for so long he could hardly believe she was real. He needed to catch his breath, find his voice.

  But she beat him to it.

  "Braden?" she said. "Is it really you?"

  Chapter Two

  Over the years, Alexa had dreamed of seeing Braden again. She'd imagined thousands of different scenarios where they just happened to run into each other, but none of those meetings had ever occurred. All afternoon, he'd been on her mind. Since learning that he'd been injured and was getting a divorce, she couldn't seem to think about anything else. She'd tried to convince herself that she'd be in and out of town so fast there wouldn't be an opportunity to reconnect with him. She'd told herself it would be best to leave the past alone. But here he was.

  Braden had certainly grown up well. He was handsome and rugged in his worn jeans and long-sleeve, dark sweater that stretched across a chest much broader than she remembered. He'd also added a few more inches, towering above her now, and there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. His green eyes still lit up his face and his brown hair was thick and wavy. There was a scar on his chin and a day's growth of beard along his jaw. Weary lines edged his eyes and mouth. He'd lived a lot of life since she'd seen him last, and she imagined much of that life had been very difficult.

  "Alexa," he finally said, breaking the lengthening silence between them. "I didn't expect to see you. I didn't think you'd ever come back to Sand Harbor."

  "My aunt is in the hospital."

  "I heard. Is she all right?"

  "I'm not sure. She's unconscious. The doctors think she'll wake up, but until she does, it's scary. I'm really worried."

  He nodded, his lips tightening. "You must be. I can't believe someone broke into this place," he added, his gaze sweeping the cluttered showroom.

  She'd been working a few hours and had barely made a dent in the chaos. She'd cleaned up the broken pieces and then started in on the boxes, but that was a slow process. She had to write detailed descriptions of every piece and then find somewhere to put the piece, which wasn't easy. Her aunt seemed to have a large inventory at the moment. It had obviously been a slow winter for antique sales.

  "When did you get in?" Braden asked.

  "This afternoon. My cousin, Evie, called me just after six this morning to tell me what happened, and I got on the first plane."

  "The first plane from where?"

  "San Francisco. I've been there three years now."

  "I didn't realize. I thought you were still back East."

  "I was tired of the snow." She wondered how long they could continue to exchange meaningless conversation. But while she was tempted to go deeper, she was also wary.

  Braden tilted his head, his expression turning thoughtful. "I didn't think you kept in touch with your aunt."

  "We reconnected several years ago." She paused. "I came here after my college graduation."

  Surprise flared in his gaze. "You did?"

  "Yes. I missed my aunt and the rest of my family." She couldn't possibly tell him she had missed him, too, and that he'd been one of the reasons she'd made the trip.

  "Maybe you should have come back earlier," he suggested, a hard note in his voice. "There were people here who cared about you."

  "I couldn't." Seeing the skepticism in his eyes, she repeated the words more firmly. "I couldn't, Braden. I was a kid. My mother moved me across the country. I had no way of getting back here. And even if I had, I probably wouldn't have taken it until after college, because my mom was a mess. I was all she had left after the divorce, and she would have viewed my coming here as a betrayal. I couldn't do that to her."

  "She can't be happy you're here now then."

  "She doesn't know. But she probably wouldn't care anymore. She got married again last year, and she's finally found some happiness, and someone else to lean on." Alexa paused, sure she was about to make a big mistake, but she couldn’t stop herself. "Do you want to come in?"

  He hesitated. "I might as well. I'm here."

  She stepped back to let him enter. "Why are you here?" she asked.

  He glanced around the store, his sharp gaze taking in every detail. "Drew Lassen asked me to stop by. I don't know if you remember him."

  "He was the kid who was always on a skateboard."

  "Yeah, well, he's a cop now. He's investigating the break-in, and he asked for my help. The department is short-handed. I have some investigative experience from the Army, so …" he shrugged. "I said I'd look around, ask some questions, but if you'd rather I wasn't involved –"

  "No, it's fine," she said. "But I thought you were injured. Evie said earlier today that you'd been hurt."

  "I'm better," he said shortly.

  She wanted to ask him a dozen more questions including what had happened with his marriage, but he was moving toward the stack of boxes.

  "What's all this?" he asked.

  "It's a delivery from the Wellbourne estate. It came yesterday. Apparently, my aunt wanted to get an early start on the unpacking, so that's why she came back after hours last night." She paused as he opened one of the boxes. "Don't take anything out. I'm writing down a description of each piece before I put it away."

  "Looks like a big job." He turned back to her. "How long are you p
lanning to stay?"

  There was an intensity behind his question, and she had no idea if he wanted her to stay or wanted her to go. His expression was difficult to read.

  "I'm not sure," she replied. "It depends on how quickly my aunt recovers and what the investigation turns up."

  "What about your job? Your life? You can just take off for a while?"

  "I'm an accountant. It's slower now that we've passed April 15th. I have some time off."

  His jaw literally dropped. "What did you say you do?"

  She crossed her arms and shifted her feet, feeling defensive for no good reason. "I'm an accountant," she repeated. "Why are you looking at me like that, Braden?"

  He shook his head in disbelief. "Because you can't be an accountant."

  "It's a good job."

  "It's a great job, but it's not you. You're the girl who wanted to make art out of sea glass, who told stories about dragons and nicknamed every person in town."

  She frowned. "That was a long time ago. I was a kid then. You don't know me anymore, Braden."

  "I guess I don't."

  She didn't like the note of disappointment in his voice and felt the need to explain. "I grew up fast after we left here. My life fell apart and I had to find a way to put it back together. I had to be practical and responsible. There's not exactly a demand for glassmakers these days." She took a quick breath. "I like what I do, and I'm good at it."

  "Okay," he said, putting up a hand. "It's your life."

  "It is my life," she echoed. She wished she could say he'd changed, too, but he'd done exactly what she'd thought he would do. "You may be surprised by my choices, but I'm not surprised by yours, although I wondered why you didn't finish college before you enlisted."

  "College seemed like a distraction. I knew where I needed to be, where I was always meant to be, so I signed up."

  "And got married."

  He flinched but he didn't avert his gaze. "Yeah, I got married."

  "I couldn't believe it when I heard. You were so young."

  "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

  "Not anymore?"

  "I'm sure your cousin filled you in."

  "She just said she heard you were getting a divorce. I'm sorry."

  "I'm not." He turned back to the stack of boxes. He pulled out a cigar case and gave it a thoughtful look. "I haven't seen one of these since my dad used to take me to the Smoke Shop. He loved cigars."

  She hesitated for a moment, then said, "I was sorry to hear about your dad, Braden. I tried to get in touch with you after he died, but you didn't return any of my calls or letters. I know you must have been devastated."

  "It was a bad time. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, Alexa."

  "I figured, but I wanted to try."

  "Why? We weren't friends any more."

  "I guess I still thought we were," she said, feeling a little annoyed by his dismissive attitude.

  "How could you think that? We hadn't talked in months."

  "There were extenuating circumstances."

  "Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore."

  Judging by the tension between them, it seemed like it did matter, but she didn't think she would get anywhere by pointing that out.

  Braden set the cigar case down and picked up a lamp with a hula dancer at the base. "Well, here's something worth stealing," he said sarcastically.

  "There seems to be a mix of good and bad," she said.

  "Looks like more bad to me. In fact, most of this is what I'd call junk."

  She smiled to herself, his words drawing up an old memory. "You always used to say this whole store was full of junk. Aunt Phoebe would get so angry."

  He glanced back at her. "And you always used to say I wasn't looking hard enough."

  For the first time since he'd entered the shop, he actually cracked a small smile, and a tingle ran down her spine.

  "I can't believe you remember that," she said.

  He drew in a long breath. "I've tried to forget."

  "Me, too," she whispered.

  Their eyes met and held for a long moment. Heat rose within her, and she felt a little dizzy from all the tension and emotion. She put her hand on the counter as her legs suddenly felt weak.

  "Are you all right?" Braden asked.

  "It's been a long day, and I haven't eaten. It all just caught up to me." Not to mention the fact that her first love was now standing right in front of her.

  "Can I get you something?"

  She shook her head. "I'll eat when I leave."

  "Are you staying at your aunt's house?"

  "No, I got a room at the Cheshire Inn. It seemed easier."

  "There's a Mexican restaurant just down the street from there, La Cantina. They make great enchiladas and even better margaritas."

  She licked her lips, not sure he was inviting her to dinner or just making a suggestion. "That sounds good. I wonder if they do take-out. I don't like to eat alone in restaurants. I never know where to look. It feels so awkward." She paused. "Do you remember Mr. Penguin?"

  "The old fat guy who always ate alone at Mack's Shack? Yeah I remember him. We watched him often enough."

  "I guess we did." Mack's Burger Shack had been high on their list of summer eating adventures. It was on the beach and the burgers only cost a dollar on Tuesdays.

  Another pause fell between them. Braden shifted his stance. "If you want to go together, I could eat."

  It wasn't the nicest invitation she'd ever received, but it was a chance to spend more time with Braden, and now that they were together, she wasn't quite ready to let him walk away.

  "I'd like that, but I need to check in with the hospital first."

  "No problem. Why don't I meet you there? I'll go by the police station and talk to Drew. Maybe he has more information on this new shipment from the Wellbournes."

  "I'd appreciate that. Thanks." As Braden walked out of the shop, she let out the breath she'd been holding. Her entire body was tingling with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Everyone said you couldn't go home again. She had a feeling she was about to find out if that was true.

  * * *

  Braden left the antique shop wondering what the hell had just happened. A couple of hours ago he'd been sitting in his apartment, nursing a beer, and pondering the path his life had taken. Then Drew's offer had sent him not just to the antique store but straight back into his past. And now he'd invited Alexa to dinner.

  He couldn't believe it. What was he thinking? He'd wasted most of his adolescence being obsessed with Alexa. It had taken far too many years to get her out of his head. He didn't need her back in it. He had enough problems.

  But seeing the fear and worry in her eyes had brought out his protective instincts. He wanted to help her, to make everything all right for her, just the way he always had. Not that he'd been successful at that when he was twelve. Her problems had been too big for him to handle then. But now there was a chance he could actually help her, and he couldn't walk away. He just had to make sure that he didn't let himself get caught up in the fairytale that she'd spun around him a long time ago.

  Many years had passed since they'd roamed the beaches of Sand Harbor. He was a different person now. That idealistic boy was long gone. Maybe it was a good thing they were going to dinner. The more time they spent together, the sooner they'd both realize that their past was not going to be their future.

  Drew was on the phone when Braden arrived. He took a seat in the chair next to Drew's desk, noting the empty cubicles in the room. Drew hadn't been lying when he'd said they were short-handed, but Braden was still suspicious about his friend's motives. Since running in to Alexa, he couldn't help wondering if Drew had had another reason for asking for his help.

  "Did you deliberately set me up?" he asked when Drew ended the call.

  "What are you talking about?" Drew asked warily.

  "You knew she was going to be there, didn’t you?"

  "Who?"

  "Ale
xa," he said.

  "Oh, right." Drew settled back in his creaky desk chair, crossing his arms. "I didn't actually know Alexa was in town when I saw you earlier. Evie told me that Alexa had arrived when I stopped by the hospital a short while ago. I was surprised Alexa was here. She hasn't been in Sand Harbor since she was a kid. I didn't think she kept in touch with her aunt."

  "Apparently she does, and she's here."

  Drew gave him a speculative look. "Does this mean you're out?"

  He ran a hand through his hair, wishing he could say yes, because that would be the smart thing to do. Unfortunately, when it came to Alexa, he'd never been smart. "No, I'm not out. I'm going to dinner with her."

  A light sparked in Drew's eyes and he smiled. "No kidding?"

  "Don't get any ideas," he warned. "She practically fainted when I saw her. She needs to eat, and I'm hungry. So we're going to have a meal together. That's it."

  "Maybe she fainted because she saw you," Drew suggested.

  "That wasn't it," he said shortly. Although he'd been so caught up in his own reaction to her, he could barely remember what she'd first said to him. Ignoring the interested gleam in Drew's eyes, he changed the subject. "Have you learned anything new since we last spoke?"

  "No. I was hoping you were here to give me a lead."

  "Alexa told me her aunt received a substantial shipment from the Wellbourne estate yesterday. It seems like an interesting connection."

  "I agree, but Jack Wellbourne lived alone in the beach house the last couple of years. If someone wanted something, why wait until the contents were delivered to an antique shop? They could have broken into the house at any time."

  "That's true." But despite the logic of Drew's response, Braden wasn't completely sold. The timing of the delivery and the break-in seemed too coincidental, and he'd never been one to believe in coincidence. "What about other Wellbournes? Is there anyone in the family who might have wanted those items?"

  "Jack divorced his second wife about six years ago, Roberta Wellbourne. She was a lot younger than Jack, by about fifteen years. She's now single and the campaign strategist for Daniel Stone. In fact, she came by the department yesterday afternoon to discuss security concerns for the fundraising event."