Wedding at Willow Lake Page 2

  “Sorry.” Immediately, Brody wished he could take back the words. Of course Ali knew what it was like to lose someone she loved—after all, she’d suffered through the death of her younger brother, Josh, in a horrible accident a decade ago. Brody swigged his tea as he sighed and gazed across the lake’s inlet to a jagged outcropping of rocks that disappeared into the forest. Taken back in time, he saw Josh tumble, heard the dull thud of skull crushing against rock and the explosive splash that followed as, lifeless, Josh disappeared beneath the water. The gut-wrenching cries of his friends—Mason and Josie, Hunter, Ali, Ryder…and Catherine—resonated through his memory, chilling his blood. The accident had torn apart the group of friends like a grenade launched into a small crowd. Now, with his thoughtless words, he may have just re-detonated the bomb. He groaned and gripped his tea glass with both hands. “Open gaping mouth, stuff boot firmly inside.”

  “It’s OK, really.” Ali glanced at Ryder who stood at the grill tending to the steaks with Rory nestled on one hip and a brilliant smile lit her face. “It was a long time ago—a lifetime ago. These days I’m overwhelmed with joy. I’m so blessed. Ryder and Rory…they’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  Brody turned his back to the porch rail and stuffed one hand into the pocket of his jeans as he lifted his glass to his lips with the other. “I know Ryder feels the same—about you and Rory, I mean.”

  “When you find love with the right person, it’s the most wonderful gift in the world.”

  “I wouldn’t know much about that.” But he had known, when he’d once asked Catherine to marry him. She’d said yes, and for a glimmer in time, all was right with the world. But that was also a lifetime—and a billion heartbeats—ago. The passage of time, and the accident, had changed the course of his life, as well as Catherine’s. They were no longer even programmed into the same GPS. “I guess—”

  Heels clacked along the wood. Brody turned and choked on a gulp of tea as he caught sight of Catherine stepping onto the deck. She glanced his way and, for the slightest moment, he couldn’t breathe. Transported back in time, he suddenly remembered the last time he kissed her. They’d been here together, on the deck of the inn, and she’d broken the news to him that she was going to medical school instead of marrying him. Oh, she had a million and two valid reasons, which she listed in succession as he could only gape in disbelief while his world crashed around him…

  They were both too young.

  She wasn’t ready.

  She wanted to be a doctor, and he wanted to gallivant around the globe doing mission work.

  Saying yes had been a mistake.

  The list went on and on as she checked each point with the flick of a finger.

  He’d let her talk, even took back the diamond as she returned it to him and, though he longed to heave it into the depths of Willow Lake and watch it sink to the rocky bottom, he slipped it safely into his pocket. Then, pressing a cool hand to her cheek, he kissed her soundly on the lips before walking away without so much as a single word. He wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t plead for her to reconsider. He had more pride than that.

  Catherine’s gaze connected with his and eyes the color of chocolate narrowed slightly before they wavered to scan the length of him. He did the same of her, nodding appreciatively. She wore a pair of jeans that tapered to silver, spike-heeled sandals that caught the light. A V-necked floral shirt hugged her in all the right places and fluttered in the breeze. Glossy hair, long and dark as a midnight wave, spilled over the length of her back, kissing her slim waist. It didn’t seem possible, but somehow she’d become even more beautiful than he remembered.

  “Wow.” Brody swiped a hand across his lips, capturing dribbles of tea. He set his glass on the porch rail and dried his hands along the thighs of his jeans as his fingers trembled. Why didn’t he go after her that day when she’d rejected him, or the next…or any of the days over the next week until she’d left and he, as well, soon-after?

  Because she’d dumped him—that’s why.

  They hadn’t spoken since that day—not a single word. He should be angry—furious at the sight of her. Yet there was no room for fury as Brody’s tongue lodged awkwardly in his throat. “I mean, wow.”

  “I know.” Ali smiled and waggled her fingers in a slight wave. “I guess that’s my cue to leave the two of you alone so you can get…reacquainted. Just don’t break her heart again, Brody, and don’t let her break yours.”

  ****

  Catherine felt Brody before she saw him. Like a magnet, her gaze was drawn to his height. He leaned against the porch rail, arms crossed and chin lowered as Ali burned his ears about something or other. Catherine could almost smell his familiar scent…like sea water and the outdoors all rolled into one. She noticed right away that the years had been kind to him. Hard work had paid off as he’d filled into his height with plenty of muscle.

  She smoothed a hand along the hem of her blouse and flicked a strand of hair from her cheek, adjusting one of her silver teardrop earrings in the process. She hoped she didn’t still smell like baby spit-up. Suddenly, all she could think about was the last time they were here on the deck together, the way he’d kissed her despite the ugly words she’d tossed at him. Even now, the memory shamed her. Oh, she’d believed every word as she listed all the reasons they were too young to marry. In hindsight, she could have been a bit kinder, a little more tactful. She’d expected him to explode with fury when she finished. Instead, he’d drawn her in and kissed her with a measure of urgency that set her nerve endings on fire.

  Then, without a single word, he’d walked away. No discussion. No reasoning. He’d left as if she’d never meant anything at all to him. No phone calls, no letters or texts. Not so much as a smoke signal. He’d probably been too busy partying down in Key West, where she heard he’d run off to. The thought still stung.

  “I’m going to see if Ali needs some help in the kitchen and find Mason, too.” Josie turned from her and started into the great room. “I think he’s with Ryder and Hunter. I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Wait.” Music drifted from the great room, where Maci stood beside the now-dormant fireplace, serenading them with a vibrant tune on her violin. Her belly was gently rounded with early signs of pregnancy, and the smile on her face was almost ethereal. Catherine tried hard not to think about how all of her friends had found their perfect match while she was just now surfacing from years of school and building her fledgling practice. Long work days had left no time for dating. She’d built her dream, yet something vital was missing. Seeing Brody had nudged a niggle of doubt awake, and the feeling was disconcerting. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Not if Brody has anything to say about that.” Josie nodded toward the porch. “Better put on your armor. Here he comes.”

  Catherine grabbed the hem of Josie’s blouse like a two-year-old with separation anxiety. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Take a breath.” Josie disengaged Catherine’s fingers from her shirt and stepped away. “Brody won’t bite. You’ll be fine.”

  “She’s fibbing.” Brody eased closer as Josie backed away toward the hall.

  His voice, thick with a southern drawl and smooth as caramel, caused Catherine’s pulse to skitter.

  “I just might bite.”

  “It’s warm out here.” Catherine waved a hand in front of her face, fanning herself. “I need some tea.”

  “Here. Take mine.” He handed her his glass as Josie disappeared around the corner. “I barely touched it. Stay. Talk to me.”

  “I...” She stumbled over the word, feeling eighteen and confused all over again. “I shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s been too long.”

  “It has.” He nodded and a lock of hair slipped over his forehead to frame his eyes. “Way too long.”

  “I don’t know you anymore. You’ve…changed.”

  “You have, as well. So let’s not waste any more time.”

  “What’s your p
oint?”

  “No point. You just…you look amazing.”

  “That doesn’t work anymore, Brody.” Catherine took the glass he offered and drew a gulp to whet her parched throat. Her lips were dry, and she wished she’d taken a moment to dab on a touch of lip gloss. “You’re right. I have changed. I’m immune to your smooth talk.”

  “Immune…smooth talk?” It was his turn to sputter. “What? There’s a vaccination for that now?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t get all bent out of shape.” He touched her shoulder, squeezing gently. “You used to love my smooth talk.”

  “Yes.” She backed away, shrugging from his touch. “In another life.”

  “And now, Cate?” He stepped closer, his breath warm on her cheek as he closed the distance between them once again.

  “Don’t call me that.” The endearment unraveled her nerves and weakened her defenses. She didn’t want to feel anything for him, yet something in the pit of her belly ignited into a firestorm of desire. Suddenly she wished she’d worn her light rayon skirt instead of these stuffy jeans. Despite a slight, cool breeze, her face flushed with heat. She cleared her throat as she shifted feet and quickly changed the subject. “I saw your billboard. It’s right across the street from my clinic.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “You’re working with kids?”

  “That’s right. Primarily in conjunction with Pastor Jenkins from Willow Lake Community Church, as well as various other community outreach programs. Maci’s even given me some leads through her counseling practice. I want to help kids.”

  “Is that so?” Though she wanted to believe him, she remained unconvinced. “So, you’ve given up the wild life?”

  “The wild life…?” He frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Life in the Keys. It had to be, for lack of a better phrase, recklessly festive.”

  “Wow.” Brody doubled over with laughter. “That’s right, Cate. With all that surf and sun, I’ve been wild. But somewhere in between all that recklessness, I managed to sandwich a pretty decent resume of work. You’ll be happy to know I’ve been redeemed from what you so expertly consider to be my wild and irresponsible ways, and I’m home to stay.”

  “What?” She coughed on a sip of tea. “Did you say, home?”

  “That’s right.” He narrowed his gaze, piercing her with steel-hard eyes. “Willow Lake is my home, too. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “I might.”

  “Then I guess you’ll just have to get over it, because I’m not going anywhere.” He took his tea glass back, drew a single long swig.

  “I’m not, either.”

  “Then maybe you should just let me take you to dinner and hash this out.”

  “Or, maybe you should just stop by my clinic and see if I can cure you of your pompous attitude.” She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Maybe there’s a vaccination for that.”

  “If there was, you’d probably change your mind about using it. Kind of like you changed your mind about marrying me—about us and the plans we made for a life together.”

  “I’m not sorry about the marriage part.” Though her voice remained strong, her eyes filled with tears. “We were too young. I was confused and—”

  “Don’t. I’d rather not relive your infamous soliloquy.” He shook his head slightly and pressed the tea glass back into her hands. “Just tell me one thing, Cate. Are you still confused?”

  The question startled her, and she paused for a moment as the world tilted just a bit. When she finally spoke, the words were stilted. “I can’t answer that. But I can say I’m not a child anymore.” Her vision blurred, and she swiped a pair of fingers across her eyes before tears spilled over and gave away her pain. “And you weren’t the only one who got hurt that day.”

  “Is that so?” He brushed a hand across his chin as his eyes flashed with heat. “Well, just in case you’re wondering, doc, you might hang a medical degree on your office wall, but your bedside manner can use a boatload of work.”

  3

  Brody tossed the failed inspection report onto his desk and thought about kicking something. He stopped short of the coffeemaker and laid into a desk leg instead, giving three perfectly-aimed, sharp jabs to the oak.

  “Struggling with some repressed aggression?”

  “What?” Brody spun toward the lilting voice to find Catherine standing in the doorway.

  Her large, expressive eyes narrowed with disapproval and a hint of mischief as they skimmed the length of him. The dimple at her right cheek deepened into a cute little wink.

  “Oh…sorry you had to witness that.”

  “You feel the need to apologize a lot, don’t you?”

  “Is that an official diagnosis?”

  “Preliminary.” A smile tickled the corner of her lips, causing them to tremble slightly. “I’ll need to take another look.”

  “I’m requesting a second opinion, then.” Brody tried hard not to think about how much he’d enjoyed kissing her, especially when her lips did that intriguing little dance, bringing out a cute little dimple at her cheek. Maybe she was done being mad. He could only hope.

  “You’ll have to drive into the next town over for that.”

  “I guess your opinion will have to do, then.” He motioned her into the office. “I’m too busy to spare the time. And I’m sorry about last night…and mowing into you. I was a little harsh.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “Not exactly the way I envisioned our reunion would be.”

  “So, you expected a reunion?”

  “I didn’t expect it…but I guess, somewhere deep down, I sure hoped for it.” He crossed his arms. “What are you doing here? I heard you’re pretty booked over at the clinic.”

  “I am, but I try to make time for lunch.” Catherine handed him a white plastic bag filled with to-go containers. The aroma of roast beef wafted. “But if you’re too busy yourself, I can take this over to Hunter. I saw him working on the deck out back. I’m sure he’d find the time to devour it.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes.” Catherine sighed and took a single step into the room. “No one knows me better than you do. We spent eighteen years together, seventy-two seasons.”

  “You calculated that?”

  “I can’t help it.” She shrugged and tapped the side of her head. “Always working. It never shuts off. We’ve been through braces together and bad hair and Driver’s Ed and…fill in the blank. We can at least be friends, can’t we?”

  He wanted more than that…so much more. But pressuring her would get them nowhere fast. Best to tread lightly, take it slow and figure things out along the way. He was a patient man—to a point. “Is that what you want?”

  “That’s why I’m here. And I’m too tired to banter like this. I’ve been up most of the night on an emergency call and my bones feel like jelly. So, truce?”

  “For how long? A day, a week…a lifetime?”

  “Don’t push it.”

  “In that case…” Brody took the bag from her and peeked inside. Steam drifted, carrying the aroma of spicy roast beef covered in peppers and onions. “Mmm…is Dijon mustard slathered on this?”

  “Of course.”

  “You remembered.”

  “How could I forget?” Catherine rounded the desk and brushed a hand over the leather seat of a rolling chair before slipping into it. “Roast beef on rye is practically a food group for you.”

  “Paired with a Pepsi.”

  “Easy on the ice.” Catherine handed him a jumbo foam go-cup. “Allows for more room for the carbonation and caffeine.”

  “If roast beef is a food group, caffeine is a close second.”

  “Not the best idea for your heart.”

  “Are you worried about my heart?”

  “I suppose so…in a purely professional sense.”

  �
��That’s all?”

  “For now.”

  “Is there a door cracked open somewhere in the future?”

  “Not a door. Maybe a window, and that’s iffy at best.”

  “In that case…” Brody’s gaze rose to capture hers. “My heart’s been through the battle field. It’s strong as medieval chain mail. I can take it…whatever it may be.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep.” He shrugged and drew a swig of soda before tapping the cup and motioning. “Where’s yours?”

  “I drank my iced tea on the way over but my sandwich is at the bottom of the bag, along with yours.” She nodded toward the sputtering coffeemaker. “And I’ll take a cup of that, if you have some creamer.”

  “Powdered OK?”

  “Not my first choice.” Her nose scrunched into an endearing little scowl of disapproval. “But I suppose it will have to do.”

  “I can’t believe you let your sandwich commune with mine.” Brody stood and poured her coffee. “We’re making strides here.” He handed her the cup and placed a container of creamer on the desk in front of her. Her perfume, light and flowery, mingled with the roast beef and coffee. The combination of sweet and hearty was enough to make a man salivate.

  “They tossed it in that way at the deli.” Her voice was soft and filled with a measure of sincerity. “Besides, I don’t want to argue anymore, Brody.”

  “I didn’t know we were arguing.” He offered her a stir stick as she sprinkled creamer into her brew. “And you said my name just then. Better be careful with that. It might grow on you again.”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous.” Catherine settled back in her seat, scowling at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “It’s bad enough that I have to look at your likeness every day on that infernal gigantic billboard. It stops traffic, you know.”

  “Is that so?” Brody grinned. “Well, I’m glad to hear my marketing budget has been well-spent. And maybe…just maybe…my image will grow on you, too.”

  ****

  “So, you haven’t told me yet. Why are you kicking things?” Catherine scanned the length of Brody. The years had been good to him. In their younger days he’d been more on the thin side, quick and rangy. His hair was a bit darker now, but remained a mix of sand and sun. His eyes, blue-gray as a churning sea, still made her pulse skitter when he looked at her. It was such an odd feeling…one she’d thought had died the day he left for the Keys. “And yelling at your coffee maker?”