Page 25 of Chasing Forever

Chapter 12

It rained on and off for the next few days—Hawaii’s version of winter. Chase was mostly okay with it. It still beat snow. However, by the third day, he was getting restless. He kept wondering if Callie felt the same way, although she had her writing to keep her busy.

And that’s when it struck him. She’d said she was an aspiring novelist, but if that were true, how had she afforded to stay here for eight weeks? He was no detective, but something didn’t add up.

While the rain pelted the windows, he fired up his laptop and brought up Amazon. Then he hesitated for a moment, watching the cursor blink in the search bar. Why did he feel like he was infringing on her privacy? Writers wanted to be found, didn’t they? How else would they sell any books?

Callie hadn’t told him what kind of books she wrote—but why? Wasn’t she proud of her work? He knew a few attorneys who had written books, and they tried to peddle them to him every time he saw them.

But she was different and much humbler than that. Still, his fingers hovered over the keys for a few more seconds. Ideally, he would have liked Callie to divulge more information about herself so he wouldn’t have been tempted to spy on her.

“Ah, hell! I’m doing it!”

He chose the category Books from the drop-down menu and then typed in her first and last name. A long list of titles came up, but he wouldn’t know which hers were until he saw the author’s picture. A few of the titles were children’s books, but he skipped those. He figured if she were writing stories for kids, she’d have nothing to hide.

There were also a few non-fiction books about obscure topics that he couldn’t see her being interested in, so he skipped those too. Finally, his eyes alit on a book cover with a man and woman in a seductive pose—a romance novel. The title appeared at the top, and at the bottom were the words By bestselling author, Callie Cooper.

Could it be her? He clicked on the book to go to the product page and scrolled down until he found the author photo. Bingo!

There she was, her pretty face smiling back at him, wearing the same swingy hairstyle and glasses.

“Wow! Conservative Callie is a romance author.” He clamped his hand over his mouth, remembering that she was right next door. Not that he’d heard much through the walls except for a few sounds that might have been her dropping something or shutting a kitchen cupboard. Still, he didn’t want her to know that he’d discovered her secret.

Now that he’d found out, he was curious as to what type of romance novels she wrote. Maybe they were racy erotica featuring whips, chains, and ménages, and that was why she’d been so cagey about it. He couldn’t quite picture it, though. But what was that saying—"It’s always the quiet ones?”

He scrolled back up to the top of the page and read the book description. Apparently, this was book one of a series about three brothers and the women they loved. He’d never read romance before, but his sister had, and he’d seen similar books lying around the house. In fact, he used to tease her about them, and he’d even read a page or two until she’d whipped them out of his hands.

Does she still read them? Maybe she’s even read this one!

He scrolled back down and read the section entitled About the Author. The description didn’t tell him much more than he already knew; however, one sentence stood out: Callie credits her grandmother for instilling the love of reading and inspiring her to become a writer.

The words choked him up, and he remembered the look on her face at dinner when she’d talked lovingly about her grandma. He’d wanted to gather her in his arms then, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t known her well enough to make such an intimate gesture.

He understood she was still grieving the loss of her grandma, but he wondered if there was something else bothering her. So far, they hadn’t discussed their love lives (or lack thereof), but he figured the topic would come up eventually.

She intrigued him, and finding out she was a romance writer only added to his curiosity. He flipped through a few more of her book pages and read snippets of readers’ reviews. She’d written over ten books and seemed to have quite an avid fan base.

“Good for you,” he said aloud. For some crazy reason, his chest swelled with pride. He’d always admired writers for their ability to put pen to paper and weave an engaging story. He’d love to pick her brain and ask her more about it, but now he’d created a dilemma.

If he admitted what he’d done, she might be angry and not want anything more to do with him. After all, she had her reasons for not telling him, and he’d gone behind her back—not an ideal way to start a new relationship. Relationship? Really? Is that what you want?

Sitting there, staring at her picture on the screen, he thought yes. Something about this woman had gotten under his skin, and he wanted to learn more. And not just about her career choice, but everything. But first, he’d have to convince her to open up to him.

While he’d been sitting there thinking with her book page on the screen, an idea struck him. If I read one of her books, I might gain some insight into what makes her tick. It won’t be spying so much as research, like when I’m working on a case. It’s important to gather all the facts before I can properly represent someone. In this case, I’m the someone.

He went back and scanned down her list of books, trying to decide which one to buy. Looking at the provocative covers with half-naked men and women, he said, “Thank goodness for eBooks!”

He couldn’t imagine toting around one of these books for all to see. Come to think of it, maybe that was why so many women read on their e-readers or phones these days! Even his sister had recently switched to a Kindle. Interesting…

He picked up his phone, walked into the bedroom with it, and shut the door. He didn’t want Callie overhearing through their shared wall even if it was only a remote possibility. But he had to run this by Miranda. She’d tell him what to do.

Glancing at his watch, he deduced it was the middle of the afternoon in Michigan, so it was safe to call. She’d have his head if he called at what she considered an “insane hour.”

She answered on the second ring. “Aloha.”

“I think I’m supposed to say that.”

“What’s up? I’m at work, remember?”