by Skye Taylor
“Keep it,” he told her.
She tucked it into her pocket, wishing all her time spent with Will could be as easy and carefree as these last few minutes had been. Friendship with him was very pleasant.
“So, what else makes you happy? Besides getting your pants wet and playing in water.” Maybe he’d tell her about his latest coup at work and the new team he was excited about being on.
“Where do I begin?” He grinned at her. “I’m a pretty lucky guy. Everything makes me happy. Well, most everything.”
“So tell me what’s the biggest thing that makes you happy lately.”
He looked at her, his face suddenly very serious. “Getting to know you.”
Chapter 17
WILL STUDIED BREE’S face, waiting for her expression to close in again as soon as he said their friendship made him happy.
“Oh,” she said, her voice soft and breathy.
He loved her. He was in love with her. He loved everything about her except the fear that kept her from letting him into her heart. She was always beautiful, but today she was especially appealing. Her wavy hair, moist in the air from the sea, framed her face with a halo of curls that caught the sunlight in sparkling abundance. The brightness of the day glimmered in her dark eyes as she gazed at him, clearly at a loss for words.
“If there was one thing that I could change about myself that might change your mind about me, what would it be?”
Her expression shifted. She almost looked sad, as if his question troubled her. She bit her lip, turned away, and began walking further down the beach. He joined her and waited for her answer. Prayed she would answer at all.
“There’s nothing about you I’d want to change,” Bree began, glancing sideways at him, then back down toward the water swirling around her feet. “I think you’re just who you’re supposed to be, and if you changed anything, then you wouldn’t be you. And you wouldn’t be so happy.”
“But if you could,” he persisted. She’d change his occupation if she could, but he wanted her to say it. If they were ever going to find a way to make things work between them, she had to be willing to talk about the part of his profession that scared her, just as he would have to be willing to consider another line of work.
“If I changed anything about you, Sam would pout.”
“Sam never pouts.”
“You’ve never seen him pout, you mean.”
“You’re still not answering my question.”
“I—”
The pounding of several pairs of feet approaching from behind cut off Bree’s answer. If she had been about to answer his question at all.
Rick, Sam, Jenny, and Becca came to a halt in front of Bree and Will.
“Mom says if you want any dessert, you need to come now, or it will all be gone,” Jenny announced.
“It’s an ice cream smorgasbord,” Becca added.
Sam grabbed Bree’s hand, then one of Will’s, and started dragging them back in the direction of the Cameron home.
“Beatcha back,” Rick shouted and took off racing.
Sam dropped both their hands and pelted after Rick. The girls joined in, and in moments they were all out of earshot again.
“Ice cream smorgasbord?” Bree asked. Clearly if she’d had an answer a moment ago, the moment was lost, and he wasn’t going to hear what it was. Another day, he promised himself. Although when that might be, considering how scarce she’d made herself over the last week and a half, he didn’t know. He’d been surprised when she accepted his mother’s invitation for today’s family gathering.
“Mom knows the kids love it, so she does it often. Every time she tries to think up something new to add to the choices of toppings. But she can’t leave off anything from before because someone is bound to ask where it is. So she just keeps ending up with more and more choices.”
In silence, they detoured away from the water to retrieve their shoes. After they finished putting them back on, Will helped Bree up again and didn’t fight it when she took her hand back.
“Would you and Sam like to go to breakfast with me tomorrow?” A threesome could hardly be considered a girlfriend sort of date.
“I’m not sure . . .” she began.
“I like to eat breakfast out on Sunday mornings before church, but it makes me happy when I can eat out with a friend instead of going alone.”
Bree stared straight ahead, apparently pondering her answer.
It’s not a hard question, hovered on his tongue, but he kept the words to himself and waited her out.
As they approached the house, there was a lineup of kids on the bottom step with overflowing bowls of ice cream and toppings. “Mom always sends them to sit on the stairs because it’s easier to clean up.”
Maybe he wasn’t going to get any reply to his invitation either. He did like to eat breakfast out, but it wasn’t like he did it a lot. Except he very much wanted to do so tomorrow. With Bree.
“Okay. At Joel’s?” she asked as they reached the line of slurping kids.
Will’s heart soared.
“Good grief, you weren’t kidding about the toppings.”
He laughed with her, his heart lighter and happier than it had any right to be.
“EVERYONE’S LOOKING at us,” Bree murmured as she walked into Joel’s Diner with Sam at her side and Will’s hand resting lightly against the small of her back.
Will bent to whisper in her ear. “You afraid the news will spread that you’ve been seen with the notorious Will Cameron?”
Olive Parker, the town trumpet, and her best friend Frances Lenore sat at the most conspicuous table in the place. As Bree followed the hostess to a booth in the far corner, she saw both women turn to watch.
“Your notoriety is not what I’m worried about.” Bree slid into the booth behind Sam. “It’s mine.”
Will took the bench opposite and lifted one quizzical eyebrow. “You must have known Tide’s Way was that sort of town when you moved here.”
“I prefer it when they’re gossiping about someone else.”
By the glimmer in his eye and the way he pursed his lips, Will would have said something totally outrageous if Sam had not been there.
Will opened the lengthy breakfast menu and ran his finger down the left side, then tapped her hand to get her attention. The jolt of pleasure his touch brought was getting far too familiar and harder to hide.
“You’re paying. Right?”
“I’m . . .” Hadn’t he invited her out to breakfast?
“You said next time was your treat,” he reminded her with one of his devastating winks.
She had. “Yeah, right. I forgot.” If those tabbies looked over right now, they’d catch her blushing as red as ripe strawberries with Will’s hand covering hers. She tugged her hand free.
“In that case, I’m having the Joel’s ‘Man-sized Everything Special.’”
Sam dropped the paper children’s menu he’d been reading. “I want what Will’s having.”
“You can’t eat that much,” Bree said.
“Sure I can.” He made a face. “Will says I’m the man of the house.”
“You still can’t eat that much.” Bree retrieved the children’s menu to see if there was a similar child-sized option.
“How about we share?” Will cut in to offer a compromise. He lifted his brows and looked at Bree for approval.
Sam beamed.
“I’m not so sure I like being ganged up on,” Bree said, but she was having a hard time sounding put out when her heart insisted on doing somersaults. The brief look of entreaty had left Will’s face, and the one that replaced it took Bree’s breath away. She tore her gaze away and studied her menu again.
The waitress showed up and took their order. One Everything Special. One
fruit and muffin.
Sam brought up the subject of the regional Pinewood Derby and chattered happily about his chances of winning a trophy. Will added a comment now and then, but he kept looking at Bree with a serious, unreadable expression in his eyes. Bree wanted to look away but found she couldn’t. It was as if Will was trying to tell her something with that look.
When the bill came, Bree was ready and dropped three tens on it before Will had a chance. She still hadn’t managed to dispel the breathless feeling as she slid from the booth and headed to the door. If only she were headed home where she could collect her thoughts and calm the jittery nervous sensation. She hadn’t felt this way during a dinner for two that could have been considered a date if she hadn’t balked at calling it one. What had changed between then and now?
They left Will’s Jeep in the diner parking lot and walked across the street to St. Theresa’s. If she’d felt conspicuous walking into Joel’s with Will, walking into church was worse. Bree sat through the entire mass feeling as if at least a hundred pairs of eyes were boring into her back. Will had grown up in this parish, and everyone apparently felt some kind of proprietary interest in his love life. Or at least in the women he chose to escort to church. It was a relief when the mass ended, and they were able to blend into the crowd headed toward the door.
Sam squirmed his way out ahead of them and was talking to Rick when they finally emerged into the sunlight. He skipped back to Bree’s side to plead with her to let him go home with Rick for the afternoon. Bree gave her permission, and she and Will headed back to the diner parking lot to reclaim his Jeep.
“They’ll be asking about a wedding date next, you know,” she said as she climbed back into the passenger seat.
Will grinned as he cranked the engine. “Let ’em ask. We’re just friends, right?”
Just friends hadn’t been the vibe she’d been getting from the man all morning, but just what that vibe had been, she wasn’t sure.
When Will didn’t turn in at Carlisle Place, she shot him a suspicious glance. “Where are we going?”
“There’s something I want to show you. You aren’t in a hurry to get home, are you?” He smiled, and his dimple showed. At least the intensity that had lurked in his eyes for most of the morning was gone, replaced by one of suppressed excitement.
“Is it something I’m going to want to see?”
He lifted one shoulder, but the grin didn’t fade. “You asked me yesterday what would make me happy. This is part of it.”
“Okay.” Bree settled back in her seat. “You’re not even going to give me a hint?”
Will’s phone beeped. He held up one finger and put the phone to his ear. The smile lingering about his mouth faded quickly. He pulled the Jeep onto the shoulder and put it into park.
A staccato series of yesses and copy that sirs followed. Will put his hand to his forehead and dragged it down across his eyes. “Yes, sir. I’ll be there in ten, fifteen minutes tops.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go.” He glanced over his shoulder and pulled back onto Stewart Road. “Mind if I leave you the keys to the Jeep so you can take yourself home?”
“Of course not. What’s going on?”
Will wheeled into his brother’s driveway and skidded to a stop in front of the garage. “There’s an officer down, and we’ve got to find the shooter.” He left the keys in the ignition and jumped out of the Jeep.
Bree slid from the passenger seat just as Will yanked the garage door open. He pushed his motorcycle out into the driveway.
“Shouldn’t you change out of your suit?” The urgency in him was obvious, but surely he could spare a few minutes to change.
“Yeah. Right.” He left her standing in the middle of the driveway while he bolted for his brother’s back door.
She was still standing there trying to decide if she should follow him when he reappeared wearing jeans and work boots with his white dress shirt. He thrust his arms into a denim jacket with the logo of Ben’s kennel on it as he crossed the driveway toward her.
“I’m really sorry leaving you like this. Maybe there’ll still be time when I get back.”
“I understand. Just go do what you have to do.”
He hesitated, then grabbed his helmet off the back of the bike and crammed it down over his head.
“Be safe, Will.” Her heart hammered with fear. Her stomach roiled.
One corner of his mouth turned up, and his dimple flashed briefly. “I promise.” He flipped the visor down, and she could no longer see his expressive blue eyes.
A moment later, he was peeling back out of the driveway, the bike leaning deep into the turn. His flashing blue lights came on just before he disappeared around the corner. The rumble of the bike faded quickly.
Bree stood in the sudden silence of Ben’s driveway, staring at the place she’d last seen Will and feeling like she might throw up. A dread that was all too familiar returned in a flash and settled into her heart. How many times had she sent Ed off to war, praying for his safe return? Prayers that had not always been answered in spite of Ed’s confidence.
Blotting out both the memory of Ed and the flicker of Will’s smile, she forced herself to focus on the man who had been shot, offering prayers for him and for his family. Or maybe it had been a woman. Will had only said an officer was down. She offered up pleas on behalf of the whole search team. The man they were chasing was armed, and he’d already shot one officer. No one would be safe until he was caught.
“You’re welcome to come in.”
Bree turned, jarred out of her silent litany. Ben stood a few feet away. “We’re sitting down to dinner, but it’s easy enough to set another place.”
Her stomach lurched at the thought of eating anything. She couldn’t just go in there and act as if nothing was happening. She needed to go home. To be by herself. She needed to sort through her feelings and come to grips with the terror raging in her head.
“He’ll be okay, you know,” Ben tried to assure her.
“I know.” She tried to sound like she believed it. “Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll head home. I’ve—I’ve got things I need to do. I’ll come back for Sam later. Will told me to take the Jeep.”
“We’re headed over to Kate’s around suppertime to collect Evan. We can drop Sam off. In fact, if we loop around and drop him after we get Evan, I can bring the Jeep back so it’ll be here when Will gets home. He doesn’t like leaving the bike at the apartment.”
“Thank you.” Bree turned for one last look at the corner around which Will had disappeared, then started for the Jeep.
“If you change your mind, you’re always welcome.” Ben waved and headed toward his back porch.
Bree pulled herself into the driver’s seat and had to hunt for the lever to bring the seat forward. She was average height. Will was taller by eight inches and all legs. As she drove home, thoughts she did not want to be thinking kept coming at her from all sides.
The seat was still warm from his having been in it. His hands had curved themselves around this wheel in a white-knuckled grip the night they’d almost been run down in a parking lot. A small crucifix clipped to the rearview mirror glimmered with reflected sunlight, attesting to the faith that guided the man’s life. The tie he’d removed after they left church sprawled along the dash. His choice of music still played on the radio. He was all around her. Even the faint remnants of his cologne lingered.
She was falling in love with him. She had tried so hard not to, but he’d gotten under her skin.
If she could just have dismissed him as a jock or a cop with attitude, keeping him out of her heart might have worked. Reminding herself that he had streaks of arrogance about him, like when he’d ordered her not to go to the Jolee Plantation alone, couldn’t banish the kindness in him that popped up when she was unprepared.
>
She pulled into Will’s assigned parking spot, unable to remember any of the short drive between Ben’s place and home. Her head had been so full of Will and the feelings he’d brought to life in her stubborn heart. She turned the Jeep off and sat there. She was reluctant to go up to her apartment and leave this feeling of Will being all around her.
Will was out there somewhere, hunting for a dangerous felon with a gun. Putting his life on the line.
Chapter 18
WILL ROARED DOWN Route 17 with his lights flashing and his siren screaming. As focused as he was on getting to the scene, he couldn’t banish the sight of Bree standing forlornly in the driveway as he left. When he’d returned from pulling on Ben’s borrowed jeans and boots, there had been a frightened look in her eyes. He’d wanted to drag her into his arms and assure her he’d be fine. He’d wanted to kiss her.
Except he’d promised he wouldn’t do it again until she asked him to. She hadn’t asked. She’d just looked so scared and alone.
Will supposed a woman might feel worried about the safety of a friend, but he hoped that panicky look in her eyes expressed feelings that went much deeper than just friendship. Possible ways that he could get her to admit to those feelings reeled through his mind as he drove in spite of his need to stay focused on the road and other vehicles on it.
The haphazard cluster of official vehicles and flashing lights came into view, and all thoughts of Bree ended. He guided his bike into a slot between the local sheriff’s vehicle and a black SUV with government plates on it.
“How is he?” was the first question Will asked of the knot of men standing with their heads bent in conversation.
“He made it to the hospital. He’ll be in surgery shortly,” Luke Nicholson, the county sheriff, answered. “You got here fast enough.”
“The captain said it was urgent. The shooter’s still in the wind?”
“Afraid so.” The circle stretched to make room for Will to join the discussion. In a few concise sentences, Nicholson outlined what each pair of the gathered deputies was responsible for.
