My Wildest Dream: Whisper Lake #2 Page 3

  Chloe had brown hair and hazel eyes and was the most nurturing member of the group. She was always thinking of others, and she worked hard to make the café she ran for her in-laws feel like a second home. She was currently on maternity leave, but she was starting to spend a few hours there whenever she could.

  Gianna was the artist, creative and imaginative. She'd been burned by love in the past, but reuniting with her teenage love, Zach Barrington, had changed all that. She'd given up her Los Angeles life to move back to Whisper Lake. Now, she was in the process of creating a freelance business for herself and helping Zach with a little girl for whom he was hoping to get legal guardianship.

  She had met Gianna, Chloe, and Hannah years ago, when she and Lizzie and her other siblings had spent summers in Whisper Lake. While she felt a part of the group, she was also a bit on the periphery. And it wasn't just because she hadn't grown up with them; it was also because she was desperate to maintain her privacy and getting too close with these women would only lead to questions she didn't want to answer. It sometimes made her feel a little lonely, especially when she saw her sister becoming more and more a part of the group, but she didn't have any other choice.

  "Have some dip, Chelsea," Hannah said, pushing the bowl of chips in her direction.

  "Actually, I'm going out after this, so I'll pass."

  "Who are you going out with?" Hannah asked, with a curious gleam in her eyes. "Is it a man?"

  Apparently prying questions came even when you weren't best friends. "I'm just having a drink with Brodie McGuire."

  "Brodie?" Chloe echoed. "Seriously? You're going on a date with Brodie McGuire?"

  "It's not a date; it's just a drink. He moved in across the street from me."

  "I can't believe he's a cop now, although I guess he's following in his grandfather's footsteps, so it makes sense," Gianna put in. "But Brodie was such a good skier. He flew down mountains."

  "It's terrible what happened," Chloe agreed. "Brodie's grandpa was beside himself when it happened. I remember he was in the café that morning, talking about getting ready to watch Brodie's race on TV. Then he got a call from his son, Brodie's father, and he started crying right there in the middle of the room."

  "That's sad," she murmured. "I didn't realize his grandfather lived here."

  "Wes McGuire was a cop here for thirty years," Chloe said. "He was chief of police when he retired about ten years ago. He always cared a lot about the community. I think Brodie is the same way. Not that I know him well. He's only been in town a few months. I do get the feeling that there's more going on behind his easy smile than he lets on, but I've never asked. I doubt he wants to talk about anything that has to do with his failed skiing career. I can certainly relate to that. Being pitied is not a great feeling."

  As shadows filled Chloe's eyes, the quiet in the room grew tense.

  "Okay, so I just put the elephant back in the room," Chloe said, giving them a rueful smile. "Sorry."

  "You don't ever need to apologize," Gianna said. "We want you to talk about Kevin or not talk about him—whatever is easier for you."

  "Nothing is easy. Every time I look at my son, I see Kevin. I think about how much he's already missed in just four weeks. Leo smiles more now. He makes eye contact. He laughs when I tickle his toes." Chloe blinked rapidly, then dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "I talked to Michael, one of the men in Kevin's unit, yesterday, and he told me to keep the faith. He wouldn't say much else, and maybe I'm imagining it, but I thought he was trying to tell me that he knew something I didn't."

  "Maybe he was," she said, hoping that was the case.

  "It's just been so long," Chloe murmured.

  "How are Kevin's parents holding up?"

  "They're trying to be positive. They went back to Florida a couple of days ago. They had some business to deal with. They'll be back in two weeks or sooner if there's news. It was actually a relief when they left. I appreciated their help, but they were so worried all the time, it made me feel worse, especially if I was having a happy moment with Leo; it didn't seem right under the circumstances. Anyway, that is enough about me. Let's talk about happy things. Gianna, how are you and Zach doing?"

  "We're great," Gianna replied, a smile spreading across her lips. "We've been spending a lot of time together, and I'm getting to know Zach's stepdaughter, Hailey. She's a darling little girl. And she loves art, so I already feel like we're soulmates. Zach and the Carvers are currently sharing custody of her, and it's been working pretty well. Hailey's grandparents are still having marital problems, which is sad, but that's what secrets will do to a relationship. Anyway, they all still need to figure out the legal agreements, but right now they're on the same page."

  "I'm so glad," Chloe said. "You and Zach are good together. I know one day you're going to make it down the aisle."

  "Please, don't talk about aisles or weddings," Gianna said with a laugh. "I'm still trying to live down my runaway fiancée tag."

  "I have a good feeling about this relationship," Hannah put in. "The other guys didn't work out because Zach was always the one for you. You just both had to grow the hell up."

  "That's true," Gianna agreed. "So, where's Keira tonight? I haven't seen her in a few days."

  "She has two houses closing at the same time," Hannah replied. "She's been working a lot. Hopefully, we can drag her out for a girls' night very soon."

  "I also haven't seen Lizzie," Gianna added, turning a questioning gaze in Chelsea's direction. "What is your sister up to?"

  "She's getting the inn ready for her Friday night cocktail party to kick off the Hot August Nights weekend," she replied. "I hope you're all planning to come to the inn. She wants to use the event to get more locals interested in eating in the restaurant, so they can offer more than just breakfast for their guests. She has a new chef, Raina Simmons, who started this past week, and she's fantastic."

  "Wait, I know that name," Hannah said, a light in her eyes. "She was on that cooking show with the top local chefs across America. She didn't win, but she was in the top three. That's a coup for Lizzie. How did she get her to come to Whisper Lake?"

  "Raina and Lizzie went to high school together, so they have a history. But the real reason is that Raina just got engaged to the actor Victor Fox. He bought a big estate on Ridgeview, and he's spending the summer here with his two teen boys. Since Raina will be here until September, she agreed to help Lizzie get the restaurant going and will also work with her to hire a long-term chef."

  "Now, I'm even more excited to attend," Hannah said.

  "There will be a lot of food. Come hungry." She slid off her stool, realizing that time was passing, and she shouldn’t blow Brodie off since he had helped her last night when he hadn't needed to. "I better go."

  "Have fun with Brodie," Hannah said with a teasing smile.

  "It's just a friend thing," she reminded them.

  "It doesn't have to be," Gianna said. "From what I hear, he's very single."

  "I'm not interested."

  "Then you should come into the clinic," Hannah put in. "And I'll check your eyesight. Because that man is gorgeous."

  She grinned. "Then you should date him."

  "If he asked me out, I would go. But I have a feeling he's interested in someone else," Hannah said pointedly. "And I don't poach a friend's man."

  "He's not my man, so feel free to poach all you want." Despite her words, as she headed out of the house, she felt a tingle of excitement run down her spine at the thought of seeing Brodie again.

  But she had to keep him in the friend zone. She couldn't get involved. She couldn't open up her heart or her life. Not to Brodie. Not to anyone.

  Brodie had the bad feeling that he was about to get stood up. Chelsea was fifteen minutes late. Had she changed her mind?

  He was rattled by the wave of disappointment that followed that thought. He barely knew her. He really shouldn't care that much.

  He took another sip of his beer and thanked the waitress as s
he set a bowl of peanuts in front of him. Micky's Bar and Grill was surprisingly crowded for six o'clock on a Monday night, but ever since Josh had taken over for his father, updated the menu, added locally brewed beer, pool tables in the backroom and karaoke after nine, the place had been hopping.

  He picked up the menu and ran his gaze down the list of entrees, but he couldn't concentrate. His mind was on Chelsea, a woman who'd made it quite clear she didn't want to spend time with him, which, of course, only made him want to spend more time with her.

  There had been a time in his life—many times—when he couldn't walk through a restaurant without being stopped by beautiful women who wanted to talk to him, drink with him, go home with him. Autograph hunters, fans, and paparazzi had followed his every move. But fame was fleeting. And those kinds of relationships had about as much substance as cotton candy—sweet for a second, and then they evaporated.

  Chelsea wasn't cotton candy. She was more of a deep, mysterious pool, with dark waters and hidden dangers. She was tempting and inviting but who knew what was just below the surface? Of course, that also made her incredibly interesting. He was tired of shallow and meaningless. Even if deep and important also scared the hell out of him, he was definitely ready for some sort of change.

  The restaurant door opened, and he straightened as Chelsea walked inside. She paused, as her gaze ran around the room, and then nodded when she saw him. There was a cautious smile in her blue eyes as she slid into the seat across from him.

  "Sorry I'm late," she said.

  "No problem. I'm glad you made it. How was Chloe?"

  "She's trying to be optimistic. She heard from someone in Kevin's unit, who told her she had good reason to hope, so she's hanging on to that vague promise."

  "Well, that's good."

  "I hope so."

  "I'm sure she appreciates your support."

  "She has other friends around, too, women she grew up with. I'm not really in the middle of her circle. But I try to help out."

  He had a feeling the outside of the circle was where Chelsea preferred to be.

  The waitress stopped by their table and Chelsea ordered a beer. Since he was starving, he added in Micky's famous hot wings, a veggie tray, and a hummus dip with pita chips. If nothing else, hopefully the food would keep Chelsea in her seat as long as possible. "Anything else?" he asked her.

  "That will do."

  "For starters," he said, hoping drinks and appetizers might turn into dinner.

  "We'll see."

  When the waitress left, he added, "So, tell me the Chelsea Cole story." He immediately regretted his words as a curtain dropped in her gaze. "Unless you'd rather hear the Brodie McGuire story first?" he asked, switching gears. "Or do you already know it?"

  Her tension eased. "I'm sure I don't. I only skimmed a few headlines about you, and who knows if those articles were even true?"

  "It's nice to know you don't believe everything you read online."

  "I don't. So, tell me, how did you go from Olympic skier to cop? The careers seem very, very different."

  "They are, and that was part of the appeal." He didn't particularly want to talk about the past, but he did want to connect on a deeper level with Chelsea. Since she wasn't going to share, he had to be the one to open up. "After I crashed and burned out of the Olympics, I spent the next year recovering from my injuries and trying to figure out what to do next. I didn't feel like I had any interesting options, but then my grandfather came to visit. He'd been a police officer for thirty years, and he suggested I give law enforcement consideration. He told me how fulfilling the job could be, helping people, protecting a community, and making the world a better place."

  He smiled, thinking back to his grandfather's very persuasive pep talk. "He also got very blunt and honest. He said I'd been a taker for a long time, living a big life, and maybe it was on me to give back now. He thought I should stop feeling sorry for myself and obsessing with what I'd lost and think about what I could do for someone else."

  "That's a little harsh, but it sounds like it resonated with you, considering you're now a cop."

  "I resisted the idea for a while, but to be completely honest, I couldn't come up with anything else that seemed even remotely interesting. I eventually decided to go through the police academy in Colorado Springs, where I was living at the time. I enjoyed the training more than I'd expected, and after I graduated I joined the police force there. I liked the job, but being so close to the Olympic Training Center, seeing my friends heading back up the slopes was not easy. When my grandfather told me there was an opening in Whisper Lake, I thought it would be good to start over somewhere new. I've spent some time here over the years, and I like the town, the people. It feels like home, but it also doesn't, if that makes any sense."

  She nodded. "It makes total sense. And now you chase bad guys instead of racing down mountains."

  "Exactly."

  "How long have you been in town? I know you just moved in across the street, but I heard you've been here for a few months at least."

  "Who told you that?" he asked curiously.

  She waved her hand in a vague way. "I don't know. I heard it somewhere."

  He didn't believe her for a second, but he was just happy she was even a little bit interested in him. "I've been here about three months. I was living with my grandfather until a few days ago, but I was more than ready for my own place."

  She nodded. "I'm sure. Family can be wonderful but also smothering."

  He wanted to ask her if that's how her family was, but he didn't want to stop the conversation with a personal question.

  "But we have mountains all around us," she continued. "And if you didn't like being reminded of snow and skiing, I'm surprised you didn't go somewhere hot—Miami, LA, some place with a mild winter."

  "I probably should have, but I love the Colorado mountains. I also like the changing seasons. Colorado Springs had too many memories from my training days. But in Whisper Lake, I only ever skied for fun, and I often came up in the summer to visit my grandfather, so most of my memories here involve jumping in the lake."

  "Can you ski for fun? Or do your former injuries prohibit that?"

  "No. I've recovered from my injuries. My agility and strength are back at a high level, but not a professional skier level. The knees take a tremendous amount of punishment in downhill racing. I could ski for fun, but I don't."

  "Because it hurts too much?"

  "Not physically."

  "But emotionally?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you shouldn't ski. You've already been hurt enough. Why put yourself through more pain?"

  He was surprised by the depth of understanding in her eyes. "That's what I think. But I have to say most people tell me I should ski again. I should see if I can find some joy on the mountain, even if it's only a bunny slope."

  "It's your life; you get to live it how you want. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks." She paused. "I'm sorry you didn't get to go for the gold, Brodie. I know you were good—really good. That must have been a crushing blow."

  "It was. I'd worked my whole life for that chance."

  "But you won a lot of other medals before that."

  "I did."

  "And you were a celebrity. When I put your name in search, a thousand articles popped up in less than ten seconds. You had a lot of endorsements. You were pictured with supermodels at awards shows and galas and on luxury yachts."

  "What's your point?"

  "Can you be happy in this small resort town?"

  "Happiness is a tricky thing," he said slowly. "I'm not even sure what it is most of the time."

  She tilted her head, considering his words. "I suppose that's true. It's different for everyone. And what others think will make you happy isn't always the case."

  "No, it's not. A lot of people thought they knew what I should do, but they weren't living in my head or walking in my shoes or feeling the pain in my heart."

  "No one really
knows what someone else is going through," she agreed.

  He nodded, wondering how they'd gotten so deep so fast, but there was something about Chelsea that made him want to talk to her on a level that went beyond first-date conversation. Not that she considered this a date.

  The waitress interrupted them with Chelsea's beer and a plate of hot wings. Another server brought over the veggie tray and hummus dip.

  "This looks good. I'm actually pretty hungry," she said, diving for the hot wings first. "And since this isn't a date, I'm not going to worry about getting sauce all over my face."

  "Definitely no need to impress me."

  "Good."

  What he didn't say was that he was already impressed, that he wanted to know more about her. But he wasn't sure how he was going to get her to open up. She had a big padlock on her life and she had not given him a key. But he wouldn't give up. He'd conquered mountains; one beautiful woman should not be that difficult.

  A half hour later, after finishing off their appetizers and chatting about the neighborhood they both lived in, he decided to get a bit more personal. "Did you always want to be a teacher?" he asked.

  "No. I didn't go into teaching until last year."

  "What were you doing before that?"

  She stared back at him, a suspicious frown crossing her lips. "You don't know? You don't recognize my name? You didn't look me up? You didn't ask Adam?"

  "No to all questions," he said, happy he could answer that honestly. "What would I have found out if I had?"

  She took a moment, then said, "I was involved with country music, but I'm not anymore."

  "You were a singer?"

  "Singer/songwriter."

  "Were you good?"

  "Yes. Maybe too good."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Nothing. Anyway, I don't sing anymore. Fortunately, my parents forced me to get a college degree. They always said I should have an education, something to fall back on in case music didn't work out, and they were right. I was able to get a job here as a music teacher and the occasional sub. Although my sub job for the summer turned into a permanent one when the assigned teacher's pregnancy turned high risk. Thankfully, the summer program is more enrichment than academic, so my lack of teaching skills is not holding anyone back. I'm thinking about going back to school, so I can teach more than music, but I still need to figure that out."