quality, he sensed that. She appreciated music too much not to.
Where was she?
He checked his phone, but he hadn’t missed a text or call. Maybe she’d changed her mind.
Another long breath, forced in through his nose, out through his mouth. That would be fine too. Better. He’d only mess this up, eventually.
He turned to the piano, the haunting symbol of his past mistakes. Of soured dreams and broken promises. Emma was supposed to have that piano, not him.
Stupid fucking drugs. Everything would be so different if she hadn’t overdosed on a fishbowl of stolen pills and teenage invincibility.
The doorbell shot out a three-note melody, the last chime echoing through the high ceiling before it crashed down on him.
Jacqui was here.
In and out. One last deep breath that he held until the ghosts were gone. Like that ever truly happened.
Jacqui could play the piano. His piano. He’d let her. Maybe it’d help.
Her back was to him when he opened the door, brown hair twisting about in the wind. Her backpack was gripped in her hand, dangling at her side. “Is that an ice rink?”
He looked over her head to the platforms erected in an oval on the other side of his driveway. “It will be. Once it freezes.”
“You have your own rink.” There was a bit of sarcastic awe in her voice, but her crooked smile took the bite out of it when she turned around. “My brothers would be so envious.”
He stood aside so she could enter. “They’re welcome to use it.” The neighborhood kids used it more than he did. That was who he really built it for.
She laughed. “Not a chance.”
“Why not?”
“Then they’d know I was here.” She flashed a smile and breezed past him. Stunned, he watched her stride into his open living room until she slowly stalled in the center. “That’s a nice view.”
He closed the door, still puzzled over her brother comment. Was she embarrassed to be here? Of him?
It wouldn’t be the first time that’d happened. But with her... He rubbed the ache that cramped his chest and shoved the thought aside. She was only here to see his piano.
She transferred her gaze to take in the rest of his place as she turned and was now staring back at him. “You have a very nice home.” Her face was serious, no joking left.
“Thank you.” Pleasure eased in to soothe the sore spot in his chest. “Can I take your coat?” He stepped forward, catching her little smile.
Her scent flowed up when she shifted out of her coat, the lingering fresh air filled with a softer floral mix to tempt him closer. The faded light of the cloud-covered day lent a darker hue to everything but her. Her cheeks still glowed against creamy skin, and her lips were red and shiny. Had she just licked them? Were they as welcoming as they looked?
His blood rushed south to perk up his dick and leave a flash of heat simmering in his groin. He couldn’t remember ever being this attracted to a woman.
He shifted, cleared his throat and motioned toward the far corner. “Here’s the piano. But then, you can see that.”
Her frown lined her brow before it leveled out, eyes widening. “Oh.” She swallowed, wet her lips in a way that drew his eyes and hardened his dick more. “So you really did want to show me your piano.”
“Well, yeah.” Now he was frowning, lost.
Her laughter bubbled light and flowing across the space. “Okay,” she said around another soft chuckle, head swiveling.
His stomach sank, mouth going dry. He’d missed something. She wasn’t being exactly subtle, but at least she hadn’t called him stupid yet. He ran a hand over his nape and tried to figure out what she was laughing at then gave up.
“What’d I miss?” Asking was always the fastest route. It was better than being poked at with small digs for the next hour.
She flattened her lips, assessing him, a curious expression puzzling her face. “I can’t figure you out.”
Her jacket crinkled in his fist before he forced himself to loosen his hold. “Is that good or bad?” Most people didn’t bother to try. It was probably better not to hear her response. He hung her coat in the closet, took a long breath and headed back into the room.
She hadn’t moved from her spot. The baggy sweatshirt hid her curves, but it was somehow more appealing than the clingy, plunging garments his usual girlfriends wore. He actually knew how to get Jacqui