Know Your Heart: A New Zealand - Tracey Alvarez Page 0,89
to show.
Her skirt whispered against the leg of his suit pants.
“I’m not too late?” she murmured.
“No.” Getting that one syllable word out of his throat hurt. His chest ached with her nearness, the brush of her hair across his shoulder.
She leaned in to him a second time to say, “Traffic was a nightmare.”
Tom’s school principal, enamored with the sound of her own voice, droned on about supporting the arts.
He swallowed hard. “Tom will be glad you’re here.”
The shift of her arm against his, a slight pulling away.
Really, Glen? His fingers resting on his leg dug into his thigh. That’s the best you’ve got?
He turned, so the tip of his nose grazed her hair. “And I’m glad you’re here too,” he whispered.
Even with the house lights down, emotion shimmered in Savannah’s eyes.
A sudden screech of sound-system feedback made her jump and pull away. On stage, the principal finished introducing the band. Behind the center-stage mic, Tom stood with his guitar, his eyes wide and unfocused. A lamb led to the slaughter.
The smattering of applause drifted away, but still Tom didn’t move to count off the beat.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Sav surged to her feet. “You got this,” she shouted. “Like a boss, Tom.”
A small section of the audience, composed mainly of Tom’s classmates, whooped and hollered. The stunned deer expression vanished, replaced by Tom’s huge grin. Jamie hadn’t told his son Savannah might come to the prize-giving, in case at the last moment she couldn’t, but Tom no doubt recognized Sav’s voice.
The boy tapped his sneakered foot, and he and his band launched into a kick-ass rendition of Pink Floyd’s Another Brick in the Wall.
Sav sank into her seat, and without glancing at his face, laced her fingers through his. The smooth skin of her palm sent ripples through him, so sharp they went beyond pleasure and into pain. He couldn’t allow her presence here to be anything more than it was—an opportunity for them to say goodbye without emotion clouding it.
He raised his hand with hers still on top and kissed her knuckles.
“Thank you,” he said.
Tom had the audience eating out of his palm within the first minute and on their feet by the end of the song. Glen would never forget the look of pure joy on his nephew’s face, and the glimpse of Jamie and Erin, three rows in front of him, clapping so hard they’d have stinging palms by the end of the evening.
Sav tugged on his hand. “I’ve got to go, Glen. Walk me out?”
Glen followed her into the aisle and out the heavy auditorium doors into the foyer. Cooler air flowed from the open doors, and the distant howl of an emergency vehicle accompanied them as they walked outside, still holding hands.
“Will you tell Tom how proud I was of him?” She paused by the row of low shrubs that led from the parking lot to the auditorium.
Glen made a huge effort to keep any hint of accusation out of his voice. “You can’t stay to tell him yourself?”
She shook her head, her long hair spilling over her shoulder and brushing the edge of a wry smile. “This is Tom’s night. When the lights come up, I don’t want having Savannah Payne in the audience to detract from that.” Then she gave a rueful chuckle, tugging the edges of her jacket together. “Though after his performance, no one would be looking at me.”
I can’t see anything other than you. Glen kept his mouth shut. Not gonna make this any harder on himself than he had to. Yet, he still couldn’t prevent his gaze from skimming the length of her. She’d lost more weight in the two weeks since he’d left Bounty Bay, and the green jacket she wore hung boxily off her frame. It was one of the jackets she’d tried on at Vee’s Closet; he’d noticed it as the color brought the green out in her eyes. Then, it had hugged her curves. Now…
Glen shoved his hands into his pants pockets because he really, really wanted to haul her into his arms and never let go. Paper crackled in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, the envelope inside feeling like it dragged him down.
“This is where we say goodbye,” he said.
“Yes. And I wanted to apologize for being a jerk.”
“Aren’t guys normally jerks?”
“I was the jerk this time. I didn’t mean what I said”—her lower lip trembled then thinned as she briefly pressed both lips together—“but it would’ve been easier for us both