Page 49 of Whispers of Redemption

Cassie nodded with understanding just as the waitress arrived, bringing their beverages and the hors d’oeuvre they’d selected, a warm cheesy artichoke-and-spinach dip with crispy tortilla chips. They each took a chip and scooped portions of the dip onto their plates.

“That’s kind of like me with my mom,” Cassie said. “Because of her situation, I made a promise to myself to never do drugs. Although,” she added before biting into a loaded tortilla chip, “I ultimately found a better way to get high.”

Wade was chewing and couldn’t respond but frowned in confusion. He swallowed and said, “Get high?”

In that moment, a little flash of the cop was showing, which made Cassie smile. She wasn’t sure why, but she got a lot of pleasure in shaking up Mr. By-the-Book.

“Speed,” she said. “Not the drug!” she hastened to add, seeing his eyes grow wide.

“Ah, your street racing.” He nodded. “How did you get involved in that in the first place?”

“When I was a freshman in high school, my first boyfriend was a junior, and he was already a street racer. He taught me how to drive, how to trick out cars.” She lifted one shoulder. “I had a knack for it.” Cassie pulled at some long strands of cheese, piling them on top of the chip she was holding. “When it comes to people, I don’t always understand them. But cars, they just always make sense to me. Anyway, he let me use his car and I ran my first race.”

“Wait!” Wade choked on the chip he’d just swallowed.

She pushed his water glass toward him, and he took several swallows before setting it back down.

“Are you telling me you were racing cars when you were only like, what...fourteen?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You can’t even take driver’s ed in this state until you’re fourteen years and eight months old,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Uh-huh,” Cassie agreed with a small smile. “I think you know by now I’m not always the best at following the rules.”

One corner of Wade’s mouth lifted, and he gave a slight shake of his head. But he motioned for her to continue.

“So, anyway, I got a part-time job and started saving all my money to buy a car of my own. I bought my Mustang, gutted it, and rebuilt it, I don’t know how many times. But it’s fast.” Her eyes took on a faraway gleam. “There aren’t many girls who race, you know. And most guys who came up against me were overconfident. I won a lot.”

She took a sip of her water. “I used to race against Brett Oliver,” she glanced in Brett’s direction. He still sat at the bar with his back to them, “and I always beat him.” She couldn’t disguise the pride in her voice.

Wade was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he said, “So, let me get this straight. You were dating boys and racing cars before you were even sixteen years old?”

Cassie burst out laughing. “Quite honestly, because of the influence of Mark and Rachel, I pretty much stopped racing a little over a year after I started legally driving.”

Wade shook his head. “You and I had very different childhoods,” he said.

“Don’t tell me,” she said with a smirk. “You probably waited to get behind the wheel of a car until you were fourteen years and eight months old?”

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I made sure my brothers did the same.”

“Gotta stick to those rules, right?” she teased. “Heaven forbid you would ever have considered having a girlfriend before you were sixteen!”

He didn’t respond. But his cheeks flushed, and she watched in astonishment as Wade suddenly appeared unusually focused on scooping dip onto his next chip.

She looked at him closer. “Wait! Does the rule-following Officer Riley have some skeletons in his closet?” she said. “Maybe some naughty pre-sixteen dating stories to share?”

“Nope,” he said with a slight lift of one shoulder and took a bite.

“You’re hiding something from me?” she said, giving him a speculative look. “You’re not only doing that eye-blocking thing but you just shrugged one shoulder, indicating uncertainty.”

Wade leaned back in his seat and lifted his eyes to the sky. “Am I going to regret I ever gave that body language talk to your psych class?” he said.

“Probably,” she replied with a smug look. “C’mon, tell me, what’s the deal? Do you have some scary old psycho girlfriend hiding in your past? Or did you once stay out past your own self-imposed curfew and ground yourself? Or, oooh, maybe you forgot to say “sir” to some girl’s dad and got banished from ever seeing her again!”

“I think you’re having a little too much fun with this.”

“Am I?” she grinned.

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