Center Stage: Magnolia Steele Mystery #1 (21 page)

“Country.” It wasn’t a lie. The songs in
Fireflies at Dawn
were country.

“You any good?” he teased.

“That’s three questions.” I smiled softly. “And yes,” I said, some of my confidence returning. “I’m damn good.”

I had thought his previous smiles were gifts, but the one he gave me now was like manna from heaven. “Sing something for me.”

I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

I stopped and looked around. “Here? On the
street
?”

“Like I said, why not?” A mischievous look filled his eyes. “Afraid?”

“Of course not.” That was a lie. Singing would attract attention. Someone might recognize me, and that terrified the shit out of me.

“Then sing for me, Maggie.”

Why did I feel this tug to please him? I’d spent most of my life putting my needs before everyone else’s. Maybe it was time to stop. Even if it required me to do something as silly as singing a song in the middle of the street.

But I warned myself that Brady Bennett had the power to destroy me. The scariest thing of all was that part of me didn’t care. The part of me that yearned to have someone look at me the way he was looking at me right now, like I was the only person in the world.

The part of me that needed to be loved.

Brady waited while my internal war waged, and the warm look in his eyes broke through the shield over my heart. Even if it was only a tiny crack.

“Okay.”

A smile spread across his face, filling me with a feeling I didn’t understand. One I craved like an alcoholic wanted booze.

Oh, yes. Brady Bennett was a very dangerous man.

But I was giving myself one night. One night to indulge myself in this luxury. I’d figure out the rest tomorrow.

I gave him a tiny smile, then put a hand on my stomach, hoping I would sound halfway decent despite not having warmed up.

I sang the chorus from “Chasing Fireflies,” the main theme song from
Fireflies at Dawn.
It was a soft ballad I’d always loved, mostly because I felt the truth of the lyrics down to my bones. “
Shiny rainbows never hang around, four-leaf clovers are hard to find, shooting stars only last for a moment, but fireflies, they never let me down. Fireflies, they always come around. I’ll forever be chasing fireflies
.”

Several people had stopped to listen, watching me with rapt attention, but I only had eyes for Brady, who smiled at me the entire time. When I finished, they clapped and murmured their approval and then wandered off when they realized I was really done.

Brady clapped too, his grin so contagious I couldn’t help smiling back.

“You
are
good, Maggie.”

I lifted a shoulder and gave him a smug grin. “I told you so.” I started walking again, but he easily caught up.

“Did you write that?”

I laughed. “No. I’m no songwriter. It’s a Toby Keith song.”

“Really? I’m a Toby Keith fan and I’ve never heard him sing that.”

I could tell him it was from the musical, but I worried I’d give myself away, and I definitely wasn’t ready to do that. Not tonight. “It’s new. You’ll hear it soon enough.”

“So you have connections?”

“You could say that.” I shot him a pointed look. “And I’ve lost track of how many questions you’ve asked. My turn.”

“Okay. Ask away.”

His eyes had a way of drawing me in, making me want to ask him a million and one things. But I reminded myself I needed to be careful. Brady worked on the same police force as Detective Holden, who had made it his mission to lock me away forever based on a groundless suspicion.

And that reminded me of the reason I’d walked into the police station in the first place.

Brady picked up on the change in my demeanor. “How about I help you out? I’ll fill in a few details, and then you can jump in with questions whenever you like. I was born and raised here in Franklin. Never left.”

“Not even for college?”

“Nope. I went to Belmont.”

Belmont was a private college in Nashville that came with a hefty price tag. Which told me he hadn’t always planned to be a cop. “What was your major?”

A satisfied grin lit up his eyes—I was playing his game. “Pre-law. But I prefer investigating to arguing. And I’m good at it. So I joined the police force and worked on becoming a detective.”

“You like it?” I asked warily. “Being a detective?”

He stopped and turned to me. “Yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

Something warred behind his eyes as he stared down at me, but he finally said, “So I can protect a pretty woman who sings like an angel when she finds herself in trouble. Why don’t you tell me what’s goin’ on, Maggie?”

I broke eye contact, and when I glanced to the side, an open coffee shop caught my attention. If I were smart, I’d go back to the catering shop and wait for Momma. So why wasn’t I doing that? My feelings were not to be trusted, but even though I knew that, I found myself cocking my head and looking up at him. “Didn’t you say something about coffee?”

Relief washed over his face. “Yes, I did. Coffee sounds great.”

I led the way across the street and into the shop, reveling in the rich aroma that filled my nose as soon as I walked through the doors. Brady followed me to the counter, where I ordered a caramel macchiato and he ordered his coffee black. He insisted on paying for our drinks, which was good since I belatedly realized I didn’t have any money with me. We waited in silence until my drink was ready, then he motioned to an empty table in the back.

Moments later we were both seated, and I noticed my hands were shaking a little around my cup. This was a bad idea.
You’re playing with fire, Magnolia.
But hadn’t I been doing that for years?

“Did you grow up here?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I looked down at the cup in my hands. “But I moved away for a long time.”

“It couldn’t have been that long unless you moved away in grade school,” he said, his tone light and playful.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Normal people talked about where they’d lived, so I’d just made myself even more suspicious.
Stupid move, Magnolia
. Maybe if I tried playing a role with him, I could get through this. The innocent woman and the good-looking detective. Or the ingénue with a secret.

But I didn’t
want
to play a role with him. Brady Bennett made me want to be me. And wasn’t that scary as hell . . .

I opened my eyes and stared into his, which had darkened. “This was a mistake.”

He looked down at my left hand, then back up to my eyes. “Do you have a boyfriend? A husband?”

“No,” I said softly, thrown off guard by his question. “Do you?”

A grin lit up his face, even though there was still a hint of worry there. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend or a husband.” He tipped his head to the side. “But if you’re asking if I have a wife or a girlfriend, the answer is still no. And I confess it makes me happy that you asked.” He reached up and tugged on his collar. “Although I can understand your confusion, given this shirt I’m wearing. My sister will be pleased to know her attempt to expand my wardrobe actually worked.”

I laughed as he put his hands on the table. I couldn’t help it. “You
do
realize there is nothing special about that shirt, right? It’s a standard blue oxford, and you don’t even have the collar buttoned.”

He tried to look down, then lifted his hand to reach for the collar, but I laughed and grabbed his hand. “No, leave it. Buttoning it wouldn’t look right on you.” I paused before deciding to throw caution to the wind. “While you might be wearing a standard blue oxford shirt, there is nothing standard about you in it, Detective Brady Bennett.” Then I gave him a saucy grin. “And I never suspected you were gay.”

His eyes darkened again, and I suddenly realized my hand still covered his. I tried to pull it away, but he held on and lowered our clasped hands to the table.

My stomach tingled like I was racing downhill on a roller coaster. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had made me feel this way. I licked my bottom lip and his gaze followed, sending a jolt much lower than my stomach. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to flirt with the citizens who walk into your police station, Detective Bennett.”

His eyes held mine. “While that’s true, I’m not here as Detective Bennett, remember? We’re here as Brady and Maggie, two people who were out for a stroll and are now having coffee.” He gave me a conspiratorial grin. “One could even call this a first date.” His shoulder lifted in a lazy shrug, and his thumb followed suit, sending chills down my spine as it meandered over the back of my hand. “And this is what people do on first dates. They get to know each other.”

“This is a date?” I asked, trying to ignore the thrill that word sent through me.

He ignored the question, giving me one of his own instead. “You said you went away. Where did you go?”

I tensed. We were back in minefield territory. “New York.”

“What did you do there? If you’re a country singer, wouldn’t you want to stick around here?”

I gave him a helpless look. If I answered that truthfully, it would change our dynamic, and there’d be no getting this easy feeling back.

“Okay,” he said, shifting his weight. “You don’t want to answer that. That’s okay. How about this—do you have a record deal? Have you made money as a singer?”

“I don’t have a record deal, but I
have
done commercials.”

“Oh, yeah?” His eyes lit up with excitement. “Any I’d know?”

“Probably not. One was a toothpaste commercial. I brushed my teeth in front of a mirror and then walked into a classroom and smiled at a boy. Pretty generic stuff.” Which was why I felt safe telling him.

“And the others?”

“Shampoo. And a fast food commercial, but I was in the background.” I may have been in the background, but it was a major chain and I still got residuals.

“So you’re an actress too.” His eyes filled with a dawning understanding, and I started to panic a little when he said, “You were in New York. That’s like the capital of the world for theatre, right? Were you in any plays?”

Realizing that Brady was
still
holding my hand, I slowly pulled it away. “A few.”

He sat back, the patient look returning. “That’s okay. Touchy subject. We’ll talk about something else.”

But my defenses had started to rebuild themselves. “You say we’re here just as Brady and Maggie, but aren’t you on duty?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I was about to leave when one of the guys told me there was a woman with some information and I needed to talk to her. So I did.” He smiled. “But as soon as we left the station, I was off the clock. I’m really just here as me, Maggie.”

“They didn’t tell you what it was about?”

“No. Should they have? All they said was that there was a woman who’d insisted on talking to someone right away. When I realized you didn’t feel safe talking, I decided you needed a friend more. So I suggested we leave.”

“So why would you use your personal time to talk to me unofficially?”

He shook his head, his grin returning. “Isn’t it obvious? I like you. I called this a first date.”

I looked down. “I thought maybe it was just a line to get me to talk.”

He was silent for several seconds, long enough for me to look up into his eyes. He seemed angry, but he swallowed and some of his irritation faded. “Maggie, listen to me, and this is important, okay?”

I nodded.

“I will never lie to you or try to trick you. Ever.”

“It’s your job,” I said, wrapping my arms across my chest. “It’s your job to trick people into confessing and telling you things.”

A hood fell over his eyes, and for the first time since I’d met him, he looked guarded. “Do you have something to confess?”

“No!” I nearly shouted, scrunching my shoulders up to my ears when I realized I’d gotten the attention of the people around us. “I don’t have anything to confess.” But that was a lie that ate at my soul. I forced myself to look up at him. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

But was that really true? I should be telling him about the house I’d found tonight, about the memories that had returned to me. Instead I was sitting here drinking coffee like it had never happened. But I had no idea if he would even believe me. Was it worth the risk? Those blocked texts could be from that man . . . which meant he might be watching me.

I shook my head and looked away, suddenly feeling hot. I scrambled to take my sweater off and then let it fall on the seat behind me.

Why was I still here? Why didn’t I just leave? How could this man who was practically a stranger have such a hold on me?

Brady leaned forward and took both of my hands in his own again, his gaze lingering on my forearm. Horror filled my head when I noticed there was a bold purple bruise on my wrist from where Roy had smacked it away.

Had that really happened tonight? It felt like years ago.

Brady’s eyes lifted to mine. “I need to make sure you know you can trust me. It’s important.”

“Why?” I asked with a hint of defiance.

“Because I meant it when I said we could call this a first date.” When I started to protest, he squeezed my hands. “If you came in to report a crime, you didn’t tell me anything. So I was never officially the detective on your case. Which means we can see each other again.” He paused. “But if we want to explore this thing between us—and there’s something between us, Maggie, I know you feel it too—then you have to be able to trust me. I can’t let you go on thinking I would try to deceive you.”

But I’m deceiving you
. A lump filled my throat.

“Were you there to report a crime?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even look at him. My heart was breaking and I wasn’t sure why. I barely knew this guy.

“Maggie.” I looked up into his warm gaze. “If you want to tell me as a friend, then I’ll go with you to the station
as a friend
and sit with you while you report it.”

Tears filled my eyes. “You would do that?” I asked. “Why? So you can sleep with me?”

His eyes filled with sadness. “Someone must have hurt you pretty bad, huh? You think that’s why I’m here? So I can sleep with you?”