My Wildest Dream: Whisper Lake #2 Page 4

  "Do you miss singing?"

  "Sometimes, but I don't miss everything else."

  "What was everything else?"

  "Managers, agents, promoters, having people watch everything I did, not being able to have a personal life, feeling exhausted all the time, not knowing what city I was in when I woke up in the morning."

  He was surprised she'd given him such a long answer, because just talking about it seemed to have exhausted her. As she took a long draught of her beer, he decided to press a little further. "Did you just decide to quit one day or did something else happen?"

  "Does it matter? I quit, and there's nothing else to talk about."

  And just like that, the door to her personal life hit him in the face. He should be happy he'd gotten as much information as he had. "Okay. Do you want to share a burger and a salad?"

  She hesitated. "I've had a lot of wings."

  "Not that many."

  "I should probably go."

  "Because I ask too many questions?"

  "I knew you would ask questions. That's why I didn't want to come."

  "And I knew you wouldn't want to answer them, but we've made it this far… I think we can handle a burger and a salad."

  "Only if you don't ask me any more questions about my past."

  "Deal. I actually don't spend much time looking back. I prefer to stay in the moment. And I like this moment. What about you?"

  She met his gaze, and there were a lot of mixed emotions running through her eyes. "I wish I could say I didn't."

  He smiled. "Then you'll stay. Now for the most important question so far—how do you like your burger? Well done or bloody rare?"

  "Somewhere in the middle."

  "I can meet you there—somewhere in the middle."

  "Fine, but this still isn't a date, Brodie."

  "You don't have to tell me that. This is definitely not like any date I've ever been on."

  Chapter Four

  It wasn't like any date she'd ever been on, either, which made Chelsea more than a little nervous. But as time passed—as they shared a burger, fries, and a salad—she relaxed.

  True to his word, Brodie didn't ask her any more personal questions about her past, keeping the conversation light and easy. He did, however, talk about his past, relating tales from his skiing days. He was quite a storyteller, and she found herself caught up in one tale after the next. Despite his often sarcastic and wry tone, she heard hints of pain now and then, a longing that could never be fulfilled.

  While they'd both taken similar paths, changing careers abruptly, their reasons were very, very different. In fact, Brodie hadn't had a choice. His life had been taken away from him, whereas she had chosen to walk away—make that run away.

  "Chelsea, where did you go?" he asked.

  "What?"

  "You were lost in thought."

  "I was just thinking about how difficult it must have been for you to lose your dream the way you did."

  "It was rough."

  "Which is a big understatement."

  "I'm not sure there are words that could describe how I felt," he admitted. "I started skiing when I was six years old, racing when I was ten. I grew up in San Francisco, but my mom would drive me to Lake Tahoe every weekend in the winter. We spent hours on the road, so I could spend hours on the slope."

  "Your dad didn't go with you?"

  "He came sometimes, but he was working to support my dreams, something he is very happy to remind me about."

  She could hear the tension in Brodie's tone when he mentioned his father, but at the moment she was more interested in his relationship with his mother. "You and your mom must have gotten close during those trips."

  "We were. She was a skier, too. She'd always dreamed of going to the Olympics, but she wasn't quite good enough. I was going to be her second chance."

  "That's pressure."

  "I thrived on pressure. The bigger the challenge, the more I wanted to take it on. It was an adrenaline rush. Flying down a mountain makes you feel invincible." He gave her a wry smile. "But Mother Nature brought me down to earth in a big way."

  "From what I read, it sounded like your injuries were severe."

  "Yes. There was concern in the beginning that I'd damaged my spine. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, but with my knee injuries, it was clear my career was over."

  "Did you accept it right away or did you think you'd get back up on the mountain?"

  "I fought reality for months," he said candidly. "I was in big-time denial. But eventually the truth sank in."

  She felt both compassion and admiration. Brodie had fallen as far as he could fall, but he'd found a way to get back up. That was inspiring.

  "I had a good run," he continued. "I won a lot of trophies, made some decent money, mostly through endorsement deals that were engineered by my father. He's a sports agent."

  "That's handy."

  "He was actually a corporate lawyer, but when my career took off, he switched careers, and became my agent. He was so good, a big firm made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and now he's at the top of his game. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. But I am not agent material."

  "What does he think of you being a cop?"

  "He hates it. That's one reason why we've barely spoken to each over the last two years."

  "What about your mom? How does she feel about your second career?"

  "She just wants me to be happy. She doesn't care what I do for a living. She also doesn't care what my father thinks about anything. They divorced right after my accident. I don't know if that was a coincidence, or if my skiing career was the glue that was holding them together. But everything seemed to end at the same time." Brodie paused. "I feel like I'm talking way too much."

  "I'm not complaining."

  He smiled. "Because then you don't have to talk about yourself."

  She couldn't help but smile back. "Maybe."

  "Do you want to get dessert?"

  "No. But please go ahead if you want something."

  "No, I'm good. I'll get the check."

  She nodded, even though she felt a little sad that the evening was coming to an end. While she knew Brodie would probably push for another get-together, she would have to say no. He was too…everything: charming, funny, sexy. And she was not in the market for any of that. She was doing fine on her own. Maybe not fine, but good enough. No real ups, no real downs. She was living in the middle, in the shadows, away from risk, from pain, from turbulent emotions, and that's where she wanted to be.

  "Chelsea?" At the sound of her name, she turned her head to see her younger sister, Lizzie, approaching the table.

  At twenty-eight, Lizzie was a year younger than her with brown hair and green eyes that sparkled when she talked. She had an infectious, outgoing manner that made everyone she met an instant friend. It was a good trait to have for someone who ran an inn.

  Lizzie, with a little help from their parents and some other family investors, had bought an old inn, renamed it the Firefly, and was slowly but surely turning it into a very profitable business. Chelsea was very proud of her sister.

  "Hi, Lizzie." She got up from her chair to give her sister a hug.

  "I didn't expect to see you here," Lizzie said, a questioning gleam in her eyes.

  She shrugged, having no intention of explaining anything. Lizzie was a wonderful sister, but she was also incredibly nosy. It probably came from being the youngest of five. She'd always wanted in on what everyone else was doing.

  Lizzie turned to Brodie. "I don't think we've met. I'm Lizzie Cole."

  Brodie stood up to shake Lizzie's hand. "Brodie McGuire."

  "Wait, I've heard that name before."

  "I work with your brother Adam. I'm a cop."

  "Oh, okay." Lizzie frowned. "But I don't think that's where I heard your name."

  "Brodie was a famous skier," she said, filling in the blank for her sister.

  "That's right. You're the skier turned cop. And you're app
arently very popular with the ladies," Lizzie said.

  "I don't know about that," he replied with a grin. "But I am a police officer. And I know that you not only run an inn, but you also make very good chocolate chip cookies. Adam has shared some with me."

  "He does like to stop by in the late afternoon," Lizzie said with a laugh. "Please feel free to come by anytime."

  "Who are you meeting tonight?" she asked her sister.

  "Hunter. But he's running late. Maybe I can wait with you."

  "We were just about to pay the bill."

  "It's not here yet," Brodie said, pulling over a chair from a nearby table. "Have a seat, Lizzie."

  As her sister sat down, she did the same, knowing that out of the three of them, she was the least interested in whatever conversation was about to happen. Lizzie would try to find out why she and Brodie were having dinner together, and Brodie would probably be interested to hear any stories Lizzie might have to tell about her. But she could hardly kick her sister out.

  "So, how do you two know each other?" Lizzie asked.

  "I found her in my bushes in the middle of the night," Brodie said with a grin.

  "Seriously?" Lizzie threw her another speculative glance.

  "I was looking for the Bakers' cat," she explained. "I told you, I've been trying to get her back in the house. Brodie lives next door."

  "He lives across the street from you? How did I not know that?"

  "I just moved in a few days ago," Brodie said. "I was staying with my grandfather, but while I love him, we did not make good roommates. The man snores louder than the freight train that rattles by behind his house. I needed my own place."

  "Well, Chelsea lives in a nice neighborhood, far from the train tracks," Lizzie said. "You should be able to sleep well there."

  "As long as Lady Jane doesn't get out—the cat," he added for Lizzie's benefit.

  "That's not going to happen again," she cut in. "Since Brodie helped me get the cat in the house, I'm thanking him with dinner." She hoped that statement would kill whatever story Lizzie was building in her head.

  "That's nice," Lizzie said.

  "So, is it just the three of you in your family?" Brodie asked.

  "No, we have two other brothers," Lizzie replied. "Grayson is in Denver and Nathan is constantly traveling. I'm hoping to get them to Whisper Lake one day. I don't know if Chelsea told you, but our grandparents lived here for sixty-plus years. They passed away a few years ago, but we spent our childhood summers here. It was my dream to open an inn, which I did last year. I sometimes have to pinch myself, so I know I'm awake and not still dreaming. Anyway, I should get a table. I don't want to interrupt your date."

  She shook her head. "This isn't a date, Liz. We're just neighbors."

  "Chelsea is right," Brodie put in. "This is not a date."

  "Okay, okay," Lizzie said. "I get it. Anyway, can I just say I'm glad Chelsea has a cop living across the street? I'm a little unnerved by the suspicious fires. Adam says there are no suspects, and he thinks the arsonist could strike again."

  "It's possible," Brodie agreed. "We're doing everything we can to run down leads."

  "It's very scary," Lizzie said. "Not knowing where he'll strike next." She paused as Hunter joined the table. "There you are."

  "I know. I'm late again." Hunter's smile swept the table, settling on her. "Hi, Chelsea."

  "Hunter." Her cousin looked good, happy, and charged up. He'd been that way ever since he and his fiancée had decided to move to Whisper Lake and reopen the summer camp. His blue eyes were sparkling against his nice summer tan. "It's nice to see you," she added. "Have you met Brodie McGuire? He's a cop. He works with Adam."

  "I have not," Hunter said, shaking Brodie's hand. "I'm Hunter Callaway. The Coles are my cousins."

  "Adam mentioned you were taking over the Echo Falls Camp," Brodie said. "How's that going?"

  "Slowly. I'm eager to get through the permit process and on to the build."

  "Hunter is also changing his life," she told Brodie. "He used to be a firefighter. Now he's going to run a summer camp."

  Brodie nodded with appreciation. "Change is good. At least, that's what everyone tells me."

  Hunter laughed. "Really? Most people tell me I'm crazy."

  "I've heard that, too," Brodie conceded.

  "We were just talking about the arson fires in town," Lizzie interjected. "Did you hear about those, Hunter?"

  "Yeah, Adam ran the information by me. He wanted to get my take. Not that I have any more insight than the local fire investigators. But I was happy to go over the facts of the investigation with him. Unfortunately, there just aren't any clues, which is not unusual in fires such as these. The clues burn along with everything else. The good news is that the arsonist appears to be targeting empty structures. That should give everyone a little peace of mind."

  "But who knows if he'll stick to the pattern, or if he'll want to take more risk?" Lizzie asked.

  Hunter shrugged. "No one knows; that's the problem. He could just as easily quit, too. Sometimes arsonists go dormant for years."

  "You're not making me feel better," Lizzie said with a frown.

  "Sorry. But you should be confident that the investigation is a high priority, right Brodie?"

  "Absolutely. We're looking into every possible angle," Brodie replied.

  "I should go," Chelsea interjected. "I have a lesson plan to put together for tomorrow."

  "I'm going to head out as well," Brodie said. "You two can have our table if you want."

  "Sounds good to me," Hunter said. "Will I see you on Friday, Brodie?"

  "Friday?" Brodie echoed.

  "It's my big party," Lizzie explained. "And, of course, you're invited. We're kicking off Hot August Nights weekend with a cocktail party at the inn. I'm using the party as a way to get more locals to see the inn and try out the food from our incredible new chef. I want to open our restaurant year-round, but I need more customers. Since this is a big weekend, I thought it was a good opportunity. I'd love for you to come."

  "I'll be there," Brodie said immediately.

  "Great. And, Chelsea, you're still going to help, right?"

  "Of course. I'll talk to you about it tomorrow." She grabbed her bag off the back of her chair. "And Hunter, I'll see you on Friday. Is your lovely fiancée coming?"

  "No. Cassidy is still tying up some loose ends in San Francisco before she's officially living here full time. I'm actually leaving Saturday to help her pack." Hunter turned to Brodie. "Nice to meet you. Maybe we can get a beer sometime."

  "Sounds good," Brodie replied.

  As she headed out of the restaurant, Brodie was on her heels.

  "Where's your car?" he asked as they left the building.

  "Over there." She waved her hand toward the silver Prius. "What about you?"

  He pointed to a black Range Rover, that fit him well. He might not be a skier, but he still had a rugged, outdoor look to him, especially when he was not in uniform.

  He walked her to her car, despite the fact that his vehicle was on the other side of the lot, but she didn't bother to protest. He was just being polite.

  "That was fun," he said, holding her door open, as she tossed her purse on the passenger seat and got behind the wheel. "Tell me it wasn't torture for you."

  "It wasn't torture," she admitted. "You tell a good story. I'm not sure how true any of them were."

  "All true," he said with a smile.

  "And I appreciate you telling me about your past. I'm sorry if I asked too many questions."

  "You didn't. I have no secrets. Most of my life can be found somewhere online."

  "I liked getting the personal version."

  "It's too bad we can't do this again. I enjoy talking to you, Chelsea."

  "I'm sure you can find plenty of women to talk to."

  "I'm sure I can," he agreed. "But I like you."

  "It's not the right time."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it's n
ot." She knew he was probably getting annoyed with her vagueness, but she couldn't change that. Which was why she needed to stop talking to him. "Good-bye, Brodie."

  "I'd rather say I'll see you later." He paused. "Drive safe."

  "I always do." But as she pulled out of the parking lot, she couldn't help thinking that maybe being safe wasn't making her as happy as she'd thought it would.

  Chapter Five

  Chelsea had been prepared to fend off Brodie's persistent invitations, but when two days passed without a glimpse of him, she found herself feeling oddly disappointed. She also found herself watching the clock on Wednesday afternoon. It was a hot day, and the students in her class were as restless as she was, but eventually the bell rang, and the kids hurried out of the classroom. Travis, predictably, lingered at his desk. She wasn't sure why he was so reluctant to leave, but he definitely liked being at school.

  She walked over to his desk, giving him a warm smile, as she picked up his latest drawing.

  This time the picture of the burning house was filled with more color. The stick figure was back with the creepy smile, but now there was also a big car in front of the house with a flower on the window. That was new.

  She was about to ask Travis about the picture when the classroom door opened, and Brodie walked in. Her jaw dropped in shock. She'd been trying not to think about him since their evening at Micky's. She'd been attempting to convince herself he wasn't really that attractive, but when he entered the room in his police uniform, her heart skipped a beat. And when he gave her a slow, sexy smile, she felt a little breathless. She hadn't gotten so caught up in a man in a very long time. She'd actually forgotten what it felt like to meet someone new, to feel the lust of attraction, and the lure of a powerful emotional connection. Alarm bells went off in her head, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "I had to speak with your principal, Mr. Rodriguez. His car was vandalized last night, and I wanted to let him know that we caught the two teenage boys who were responsible."