Page 12 of Wildfire (Owl Creek #1)

Callie takes me to meet the band, and they are happy to let me sing a cover song with them.

I am scared as hell, but I bang it out as best I can.

I also harmonize with Georgia, their lead singer, on another song.

When I finish, they ask if I have any material of my own.

I didn't know this night could get any better, but it does.

"Wow, really? I'd love to play something I wrote last year."

Georgia reaches for her guitar, but I'd grabbed mine from the apartment before we came. So I run out to the truck, grab my guitar, and use the time to try to take some breaths and steady my hands. This is it. This is what my life is going to be like in L.A.

I need to get used to these things.

When I walk back in, I notice Callie off to the side, talking to someone I haven't met yet. I am sort of relieved. I don't want her asking any questions about the lyrics since they're about my mom.

I sit down on the stool in front of the microphone as my heart thunders in my chest. My ears and cheeks feel sunburnt from the heat pouring out of me.

But as I start playing, the music just sweeps over me, and I get lost in the way that you want to get lost. Like you forget yourself, and you forget your body, and all you know is the music.

All you experience is the way the melody sweeps you off your feet and carries you to that sweet heaven that is the sound.

When I finish, I look up, and all eyes are on me. Now, the thunder is coming from their clapping and whistling instead of my heart.

"That was fucking amazing, Renée!" Georgia comes up and wraps her arms around me. "Please play with us at the festival. Please play that song next week for the opening night!"

"Are you— oh my god, are you serious? You want me to play with you?"

"Yeah, and if you're up for doing some harmonies too, we've got three other cover songs you'd be perfect for."

Callie strolls up with the woman she was talking to, beaming with pride. "Great job, Renée. You're a natural."

My throat catches as I thank her and turn to the band. "So, do we need to practice together before next week?"

"Meet us here tomorrow night and again on Friday. I'll bring you some song sheets." Georgia smiles at me, and the bass player, Trevor, claps me on the back as I walk off the stage, guitar in hand.

"Hey, Renée?"

"Yeah, Georgia?"

"What tuning was that song in? If you like, we can work on some accompaniment."

"Drop D."

"I thought so. It sounded great. I'll bring an extra guitar and have it tuned and ready tomorrow."

I nod and float toward Callie, standing next to the pretty young brunette with emerald green eyes and black-framed glasses.

"Great job, Renée." She pulls me in with a tight squeeze, releasing my chest just a little more from the tight ball that always sits there.

"This is Serena Davis, our town's mayor. Serena, this is Renée. She's helping me finish my boats and gazebo before the festival."

Serena sticks out her hand to shake mine, and when I look into her eyes, it is like I am looking at an old friend. She seems to ooze kindness, and I wonder if there is something in the drinking water in this town.

"How are you liking our town?"

"So far, it's great. Couldn't have picked a better spot to have my car break down."

"Is that your Mustang I saw in the shop parking lot?"

"Yup."

"Wow. Beautiful car. I bet Caleb is having a great time working on it."

"Well, he isn't working on it yet. The part had to be ordered."

"So you decided to pick up some work while stuck here? How did you find accommodations so close to the festival?"

"Chief Cole is letting me stay in his apartment."

Serena glances at Callie before smiling at me. "That's our Cole. He's always there to help people out. I honestly don't know what I'd do without him."

A pang of jealousy cuts through my gut. Is this his girlfriend? It makes sense. The mayor and the fire chief. It's like a small-town power couple thing. And she's drop-dead gorgeous now that I'm seeing her up close.

"You two work together?"

"On a lot of projects. He's got a connection to people and a way about him that makes people trust him. That's helpful when we're trying to make changes."

Maybe I misunderstood, and they are just work buddies. Come to think of it, she might be his boss since she's in charge of the town. I think it is kind of hot— a guy who can have a woman as his boss, especially one who looks like she's younger than he is.

"Sounds like a great person to work with."

"He is. Now, I need to head out to the bakery to make sure they aren't freaking out about all their preparations. Catch you two later?" She walks out the side door of the grange hall where we are practicing, and Callie puts her arm around me to lead me outside.

"Amazing singing, Renée. People are going to love you next week."

She leads me to the truck, and I put my guitar behind the seat before we pile in and drive down the road to Sam’s Grill. "Let's grab some burgers and milkshakes for dinner," she says.

We walk in together, and all eyes are on us. I'm used to being looked at in a small town, where everyone is always in everyone's business, but this feels more intense. Like I am a specimen under a microscope.

The waitress brings over some menus, and Callie waves hers away.

"I already know what I want." She waits patiently for me to look things over before I order and then excuse myself to wash up.

I swing open the door to the bathroom and am met with the gossiping voices of two women before I can round the corner to the toilets.

"I heard she's shacking up at Chief Cole's house. She's probably wearing those short cutoffs I saw her in the other day to worm her way into his bed."

I freeze in the small entryway, silent and out of sight.

"If I knew he was willing to take in strays, I'd have run away from home a long time ago!"

They laugh as I round the corner, arms loose at my sides, ready to fight. But when they turn from the mirror and see me, the blood leaves their faces.

"Not that it's any of your business," I look them up and down, "but nothing is going on between us, and I'm not a stray." Standing several inches taller, I step closer to intimidate them even more. "I'm just passing through town."

"Oh, um. Sorry." One eeks out before they both scurry around me and out the door.

"I bet you are," I mumble as I wash my hands. "Fucking small towns. I'm so done with this when my car's fixed."

I splash water on my face and dry it off before returning to our table. Callie was texting someone when I sat down.

"My son is checking in to see what I'm up to." She looks at me over the bridge of her reading glasses. "I'm pretty sure he's never sent a text to ask me what I'm up to."

I feel my cheeks heat up and avoid her gaze. Thankfully, a tabletop jukebox sits to my right, so I start scrolling through the music selection. "I haven't heard of any of these bands."

She takes the hint, regaling me with tidbits about the singers and bands, and helps me choose something with a bluesy groove.

When our food arrives, I hear the ringtone set for my best friend. I look at the screen and see a couple of texts from her, too.

"I'm sorry. Can you please excuse me? I think this is important." I answer the call in a hushed tone as I head outside.

"Hey babe, sorry I missed your texts. What's going on?"

"Just your whole family blowing up my phone because you're avoiding them."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"You haven't talked to them yet?"

"They'll just try to guilt me into coming back."

"Well, aren't you almost to L.A. by now?"

"Um…actually, I broke down. I'm waiting for my car to get fixed."

"Fuuuuuck. Where are you?"

"You'll never believe it."

"What? Where are you?"

"Owl Creek."

Zoe laughs on the other line in a way only she can laugh at me without hurting my feelings. Like she's laughing with the future me, who will look back on this and talk about it as if it were a joke.

"You're still in the sticks? I figured you're seeing sunny skies and surfers by now. How long till you hit the road again?"

"Like, another week or more."

"Well, I just got some unexpected time off from work, so do you want some company?"

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you when I see you. What sleaze bag motel are you at?"

"Funny you should ask. I'm staying with the local Fire Chief in the apartment above his garage."

"There's a story here." I can almost hear the wheels turning in her mind.

"Listen, I've got to return to my dinner; it's getting cold. I'll see if Cole is alright with you staying, and then I'll text you the address."

"Ooh. Cole. Sounds like a sexy firefighter name. Or… Wait a minute. Cole? As in the stuff that burns? Isn't that a little on the nose?"

"Zoe, I'll text you later. Love you forever."

"Love you always."

I rejoin Callie, and we eat our food without any more mention of Cole.

I am grateful for her taking me under her wing and love spending time with her, but I don't want to give her any hope that anything is going on between him and me.

My destiny is in Los Angeles, and meeting the band and singing next week is proof of that.

She drops me off at home, and as I walk up the stairs to my apartment, I notice the porch light go on at Cole's house. It feels like an invitation, and honestly, I am excited to tell him I've been invited to sing with the band.

I put my guitar inside and hurry over to his place. Before I can knock on the door, he opens it with a big, fat grin.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I was just coming over to see if you wanted a quick drink or…um, some dessert? I made a flourless chocolate torte."

"You made a torte. As in, a complex dessert."

"Yes."

"Is that something you do? Make delicious desserts? Because this changes everything."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Changes everything how?"

"I'm going to have to buy a bigger pair of pants before I leave Owl Creek, and I'm here for it."

Cole shakes his head and chuckles. "So, does that mean you want some?"

"Yes. Plus the drink. I have some exciting news for you."

"I'm all ears." He pours us a couple of whiskeys and walks them over to the low table in front of the rust-colored couch.

Then he serves up two thick slices of the darkest, densest cake I've ever seen, and my mouth starts watering.

The thing is, I'm not sure if it is the food or the man that is having the effect on me.

I curl up on one end of the couch and start blabbing away.

It is hard to stop. The excitement is building up all over again, and talking distracts from the thoughts about Cole trying to take hold.

"That's amazing. Congratulations!"

"Thank you. Oh, and I almost forgot to ask. My best friend called tonight and told me she has some time off. Would it be alright with you if she stays with me?"

"As long as you agree not to have any parties." He winks at me.

"She's more of the bookish type. We couldn't be more opposite."

"So you're a party girl?"

"That's not what I mean."

I don't know why, but I don't want him to think I am like that.

Sure, I'd gotten drunk at the lake just like everyone else, but it wasn't like I was getting loaded every weekend and screwing guys in the back seat of their car.

At least, not most guys. "I just mean she's more intellectual, and I'm more physical. "

God, I'm digging myself a hole here.

"She works part-time at the local school and has her own business, whereas I just work with wood."

"Just?"

I can feel his gaze on me, and it has a weight to it. I know he doesn't think about me being a carpenter the way people like Michael do. The fact that I haven't heard from Michael yet means he wasn't back in Downsville or doesn't care that I'd also left him when I ran out on my family.

"I mean, I'm not like her. She's a self-taught computer whizz, and I'm following in my dad's footsteps as a carpenter. She's going places."

"Well, so are you from the sounds of it. That band draws a crowd. You're going to be heard by a lot of people."

I swallow some whiskey to push back on the lump in my throat. It burns in a comforting way.

Swallow the fear. Swallow the guilt.

"What do you think of the torte?"

I had been so wrapped up in what I was saying my mind didn't register much of the flavor. I take the last bite and slow my brain down to savor it. "Magnificent."

"Well, I won't be able to eat the whole thing so feel free to help yourself to as much as you want. I leave the door unlocked, so let yourself in."

"I can let myself into your house? Won't that feel like an intrusion?"

His eyebrows wrinkle, and then he reaches over and squeezes my foot, which is propped up on the couch. "You aren't intruding. I want you here."

The room gets ten degrees warmer in an instant.

Being welcomed with open arms feels strange.

More of the tightness in my chest releases, and it scares me a bit.

I don't want to want him. I don't want to want to be here on this couch, feeling like I am not only welcome but desired.

Not just desired for my body, but for my company.

"Thanks, Cole. I'm going to wash up. It's been a long day." I shoot off the couch and grab our plates, hurrying them to the kitchen to wash.