With This Wish (Windswept Bay Book 9)

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With This Wish (Windswept Bay Book 9) Page 1

by Debra Clopton




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Description

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Chapter Excerpt from HER COWBOY HERO

  More Books in the Windswept Bay Series

  About the Author

  Copyright

  WITH THIS WISH

  Windswept Bay Book Nine

  DEBRA CLOPTON

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  www.debraclopton.com

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  Description

  Trent Sinclair knows love and loss. He holds both close to his heart and private as he rebuilds his vintage motorcycle, remodels homes and occasionally build treehouses. But when his sister’s new sister-in-law Lilly McCall wheels into town, suddenly his life is turned upside down.

  Lilly McCall has been running from her past but has decided it’s time to get over it, settle down and force herself to let people get close to her…her brother, BJ, in particular. After the tragic loss of their parents, she closed herself off, wandering from one national forest after the other as a volunteer while secretly writing love stories under a pen name. Now, she’s come to Windswept Bay to rebuild her relationship with BJ, let her secret self be known, and she’s commissioning Trent Sinclair to build her dream treehouse, where she can create her newest series.

  She isn’t counting on the handsome, quiet Trent Sinclair turning her world upside down and putting her wounded heart on the line.

  These two unforgettable characters will touch your heart as they forge a path to freedom from their past hurts to find an undeniable love strong enough to build a future together…if they can just open their hearts.

  Don’t miss this next heartwarming, touching story in the Windswept Bay Series! The sisters have had their love stories—now it’s time for the brothers to get swept away by love.

  Chapter One

  The wind blew hot and humid across Trent Sinclair as he rode his Harley along the curving shoreline road of Windswept Bay. He had been rebuilding this vintage Knucklehead Harley for two years and now it purred like a big kitten. Knowing he’d rebuilt it with his own hands was a rewarding feeling. It gave him a sense of accomplishment.

  It had also kept him busy in the evenings.

  Kept his mind busy and he needed that after he’d been released from the military and special ops. He hadn’t managed well when he first came home almost three years ago and finding the bike several months after arriving had been a lifeline that he’d needed. He hadn’t wanted to hang out, or go out at all. Other than seeing his family—his brothers and sisters—most of the time after he finished work, he’d just wanted time alone. But he’d found too much time spent with nothing but the sound of crickets, frogs, and even the sound of the small waterfall not too far away through the trees didn’t work well for him… It enabled too much time for memories, regrets, and stagnation.

  He’d realized he needed something to help him mark time and working on the Harley had been exactly the right project. But now it was finished. And time had moved on, life had moved on… But was he ready?

  Had his heart healed enough? Did he want to reach for more?

  There was no hurry. Now, he’d take pleasure in this—riding, feeling the life that vibrated in the air as he rode the Harley. For now, that was what he’d focus on. That and taking one step at a time toward moving forward at last.

  He studied the surf as he followed the curve of the road and thought how lucky he was to live in such a beautiful spot. He turned onto the secluded road that led up the hillside and away from the blue waters of the bay. He enjoyed the seclusion of his tree-surrounded home away from the surf, contrary to what most people wanted out of a home near the beach. As he wound up the hill and rounded the last curve to his driveway, he had to yank the bike hard to the left to miss the baby-blue travel trailer blocking the road.

  The bike skidded and he managed to miss a tree as he careened through the ditch, caught air and skidded to a halt in his driveway. He cut the ignition and dropped the kickstand to the Knucklehead.

  Who… What?

  The questions blasted through him as he glared toward the faded Chevy attached to the small egg-shaped travel trailer that blocked his drive and the road. Anger flashed through him as he scanned the area, no one was there.

  “Are you all right?”

  He yanked his head around and saw a blonde standing halfway between him and the house, a look of shock on her tanned face. What little he could see of her face for the mass of hair.

  “What are you thinking?” he demanded as he hauled off the bike and strode toward her. “You trying to get someone killed with that rig of yours?”

  “No. I thought it was off the road enough. I have my flashers on.”

  “Nope, no flashers and not off the road enough.”

  She pushed curls from her face with one hand and left her hand on her forehead, as if to hold the mass back. Her brow wrinkled above her dark shades. “Well, I’ll move it. I was under the impression there was little traffic from here on up the hillside.”

  “True enough, but still not a good thing. You should have moved it at least out of the way of the curve and my driveway.”

  “Fine. I’ll move it and be right back.” She jogged past him in an easy stride.

  He set his hands on his hips and watched as she yanked open the passenger door, slid inside, and then yanked it closed. She scooted to the driver’s seat and gunned the engine. A loud backfire boomed from the old truck before it lunged forward and towed the blue egg across his driveway and up the road ten feet past the entrance of his home. That was one ugly little trailer.

  But one really cute owner, he noticed as within moments, she was jogging back his way. Her hair seemed alive as she loped up his asphalt and stopped in front of him. She pulled her shades off, exposing her pretty, makeup-less skin and sparkling eyes the color of periwinkles that grew in his mother’s window boxes. She let her hand holding the shades drop to her thigh and his gaze followed the movement, past her T-shirt with Yosemite National Park scrawled across her small breasts, to a pair of cutoff jeans that hit just above mid-thigh on her tanned, well-toned legs. His gaze snagged on the shades as she tapped them on the side of her thigh near the long, jagged scar that ran down the side of her left leg. The scar had been hidden from his view as she’d jogged past on her way to the truck but now, though faded, it was an obvious leftover from what he envisioned as a painful accident or surgery.

  “So, now that I have that out of the way, we can talk.”

  Her happy voice had him yanking his gaze off her legs back to meet her clear gaze. She smiled and instantly went from pretty to knockout in one swift kick in the gut.

  “Talk?” he muttered, struggling to pull his attention from the pain of her injury to the happy lilt of her tone and those eyes. That smile. It was completely disconcerting.

  “Yes, first, I love your ride. A real beauty.” She turned to look at the Knucklehead and his gaze snagged again on the vicious scar. It was faded but from this angle clearly had once, years ago, been terrible.

  Trent’s thoughts went back momentarily to a time he tried hard not to remember. He shook his head and forced his attention to his Harley. “Thanks. I like it.”

  She turned back, her smile wide. “I hope you’ll give me a ride at some point. I can onl
y imagine the freedom of it. And I’m sure it purrs smooth as butter as you ride.”

  His concentration faltered at her words. “You know vintage bikes?” As startling as every second since he’d come up on her was the instant attraction that shot through him. His mind faltered because it had been awhile since he’d been instantly attracted to someone…not since Erica. Thinking of Erica, he forced himself to focus on the intriguing woman. On finding out who she was and why she was here.

  “I don’t really know them. I’ve just been around a lot of motorcycles and a vintage bike stands out.” Lilly McCall took in the gorgeous guy in front of her. He stood out, too, more than his motorcycle. He was tall, lean and hard muscle and though she’d done her research on him before, she hadn’t been prepared for the unexpected attraction buzzing through her. That could be a problem. “I’m Lilly McCall,” she said, realizing she’d never introduced herself.

  “I’m Trent Sinclair, but I have a feeling you already know that.” His head cocked. “McCall. Wait, are you my brother-in-law BJ’s sister?”

  She nodded. “I am. But he has no idea I’m here yet.” She extended her hand and she saw her reflection in his aviators and could see her crazy hair was pretty wild from the salt air and the fact that she’d been riding with the windows open for the last four hours. She was a bit of a mess with it having expanded to twice its normal size. Oh well, it was what it was.

  He took her hand and shook in a firm, professional manner. She liked the feel of his callused palm though it was a very brief handshake. “Are you lost?”

  She smiled. “No, I know exactly where I’m at.”

  He removed his aviators and her heart skipped a beat as striking blue eyes the color of the teal-toned water of the coast met hers.

  “So, you came to see me?” His gaze locked onto hers, probing.

  Awareness churned in her chest and she fought it off like a woman fighting off bees. The man was as sexy as the heroes of the books she wrote and she couldn’t have written a heroine’s reaction any better than her reaction to him.

  “Well, in part but I’m also on my way to my place.”

  He crossed his arms—his distractingly muscled arms—and his brows dipped. “Your place?”

  She was confusing him. She did tend to do that. Focus, Lilly. “I’m here about a treehouse. I want you to build me one.”

  He hitched an eyebrow. “You know about my treehouses?”

  “I do. I was talking to BJ a month ago and he was telling me what each of his new brothers-in-law do. And he mentioned that you’d been building treehouses. And, well, I started thinking about it and couldn’t let the idea go. So, here I am and I’d like you to build me one. If you have time. And I’m really hoping you do.” She really did. She was set on it, actually. This move she was making was huge for her. Deciding to take hold of her life and set down roots. It was big. It was hard and the whimsical idea of living in a treehouse had taken hold of her like a vise and wouldn’t let go. She wanted this treehouse. Truly wanted to plant roots and stay…

  “Where? Don’t you travel around a lot? Like from one national park to the other or something like that?”

  Her heart tugged. “I do. I mean, I did. I’m starting a new chapter in my life, though. I’m…” She moistened her lips and the soles of her feet suddenly itched. “I’m settling down. Here on Windswept Bay. BJ is here.”

  “Well, I think that’s great. He didn’t mention you were coming last time I talked to him.”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  Trent looked shocked now. “Really, you’re surprising him?”

  “Yes, I am.” She hadn’t wanted anyone to know her plan. She’d made it, was used to making decisions on her own and flying by the seat of her pants. “I’m going to see him but I wanted to settle in first and get things with the treehouse rolling.”

  “Rolling?”

  “Yes. Can you fit a treehouse into your schedule over the next few months?”

  He placed his hands on his jean-clad hips and studied her with real consternation now. “Well, I am finishing up a remodel in a couple of days but I have another job scheduled in two months.”

  “Great. That’s plenty of time, isn’t it?”

  He laughed. “Maybe. Depends on how extravagant you want it.”

  “Nice, but not extravagant. I’m not an extravagant kind of person.”

  “Okay, so where is the spot? I’ll need to look at it.”

  “Fantastic. It’s just around the corner, up the hill.”

  He blinked. “This hill?”

  She nodded as if she hadn’t said anything startling, but she had. “Yes, up the road.”

  “You bought the property at the top of this hill?”

  Lilly shouldn’t have been surprised by his reaction. Of course he would know what the property at the top of this hill would cost. He lived right here mid-way up the road to it.

  “I did.” And his reaction was right, the property hadn’t come cheap. She wondered what was going through his mind. Probably thought she had a loan from BJ. The truth was far from that. “Look, I’ll pay whatever you want, if that’s what’s worrying you. But I do have a deadline. I need it within the next two months.”

  “Okay, but you’re sure you want a treehouse up there? This is the Florida coast and we do have hurricanes from time to time.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll deal with the hurricanes when they come. But I know what I want. Can you do it? I’ve checked out your work and love it.” She placed her hands on her hips and prepared herself to convince him to do this, no matter what it took. “I know what I want and you can give that to me.”

  His brow rose and the suggestive connotation of her words slammed into her. Being a twenty-six-year-old phenomenon who hid inside her volunteer work inside the national park service slightly hindered her love life. And there was the fact that a knot lived inside her that couldn’t—wouldn’t—loosen its hold on her heart. She could write her quirky, sweet romances but to actually open up to them herself was something she didn’t think she would ever be able to do.

  So she just wrote love stories…there was no threat of pain if she let that be enough. Truth was, there had never been any attraction toward someone who challenged her heart.

  He was staring at her and she realized he’d never answered. “Look, are you the man for the job?”

  His lips twitched and his eyes crinkled at the edges. “I might be. I’ll have to take a look at the property first. Maybe we should drive up there and take a look at what exactly you want in this slightly restrictive scenario you’ve just described.”

  She laughed with relief. She had him and she knew it. “Great! Let’s go. Your ride or mine?”

  Chapter Two

  Trent laughed at the way she smiled in teased about riding his Harley. He wasn’t sure what to make of Lilly McCall. And the fact that she’d come here before going to see her brother seemed off. But then, BJ had said that he and his sister had both been wanderers after they’d lost their parents. Not that they’d talked a lot about it. His brother-in-law didn’t talk a lot about his past. Trent just knew that his parents and Lilly had been in a car wreck and that Lilly had lived and they hadn’t. It had been a bad time in their life. Trent understood about not wanting to talk about something that cut so deep. He’d had his own tragedy…had his own way of coping. Olivia knew more about BJ’s past but hadn’t said much either, just that he hoped one day Lilly would feel able to open up to being close to family again. Olivia had helped BJ do that.

  Looking at Lilly now, Trent couldn’t help wondering whether this was Lilly taking that major step toward healing. He had slowly let his family back into his life—not completely—there was just too much pain in his heart from losing Erica so tragically, so suddenly that he didn’t think he could ever completely share that with anyone. But he lived among his family and there had been no closing them out completely, no getting away from the fact that if something happened to one of them, a person he loved, that he
would hurt. Pain, love, joy and loss were all intertwined like balls of thread and one way or another could not completely be disconnected. Still, some tried. He wondered whether that was what Lilly had done.

  “Hey, I was just teasing. I’ll take my truck and move the trailer out of the way.”

  He realized he’d not said anything as she’d backed toward his bike. He’d just stood there like a dope, watching her and thinking. “Okay, I’ll follow you,” he offered.

  She gave him a thumbs-up and then turned and jogged up the incline to her truck. He was getting on his Knucklehead when her truck revved to life, backfired and then lurched forward.

  That thing had a problem. Obviously needed a tune-up.

  As he followed her, he couldn’t help thinking she had paid a pretty sum for the lot at the top of the hill. And she’d said she’d pay whatever the cost was for the treehouse. She acted as if money was no object. Then again, BJ was worth a bundle. Had inherited it from his long-lost dad and was still adjusting to that fact, so maybe he’d shared it with his sister. BJ’s background was complicated.

  But either he’d shared some of his newfound wealth with his sister or the lady was loaded on her own, because the hilltop hadn’t come cheap. Trent’s grandfather had owned the lot he’d built his home on but it was not the top of the hill. The lot with the view. A price tag to match.

  She had bought it.

  He followed her up the winding road, dappled by the sun peeking through the trees. When they reached the gate, she drove on through.

  The land wasn’t on the beach but it was optimal property and access wasn’t that easy. Yes, it had a paved road to an extent and then there was a lot of vegetation that would require clearing, at least part of the way. And then depending on what kind of treehouse she was looking for… He had done regular, no-nonsense but unique treehouses that weren’t extravagant but still, plumbing and water access and security didn’t come cheap. And then he had done extravagant treehouses that were gorgeous and completely unique. He had a feeling—well, to be honest, he didn’t have a feeling; he had no idea what she wanted. He would just wait and see. It hit him suddenly that she must have come to town at some point to shop for the property.

 

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