threatening as a puppy.
She picked up the sonata a few bars back from where she’d abruptly stopped. The rise and fall of the notes quickly engrossed her again, but she didn’t let herself become fully absorbed in the music. It still fed into her, swirling in the adrenaline rush that always came when she played. But she stopped short of getting lost in it.
He edged closer, measured steps that were more unconscious than predatory. She was aware of every step, her fingers playing on autopilot while her mind detailed the intriguing stranger.
His polo and cargo shorts were clean and pressed, his leather flip-flops of good quality. He was built broad and muscular with a solid thickness through his chest that stretched the material of his shirt. His hair was hidden beneath his ball cap, and she assumed it was dark, based on the stubble on his cheeks.
Handsome? Her stomach did a small roll of interest. Yes. Definitely.
Square jaw, broad mouth with an unexpected perfect Cupid’s bow arch to his upper lip. The glimpse of deep eyes beneath the bill of his hat had her pondering their color. A dark brown? A cool gray would fit him too.
She was closing in on the ending when he reached the edge of the piano. Separated by the length of the instrument, he kept his distance, which put her at ease. She swayed to the beat of the music, playing into the rhythm with the showmanship she’d been taught. Her music performance degree included the art of enticing an audience into both the music and the artist.
The piano lid was propped up, and his hands came to rest on the lip of the curved tail. Blunt and battered, his fingers tapped out the notes she played in barely lifted movements. But she caught them, the pattern so ingrained in her head there was no way she misread his small actions as a random act.
This man not only knew the song, but he could play it too.
Yet he’d denied being able to play the piano.
The allegretto came to an end on a low note that drifted quietly into the almost sudden conclusion. Her hands remained on the keyboard, heart thumping in the silence that held. Did he like it?
She squeezed her eyes closed for just a moment and gave herself a mental kick. He was just a customer. It really shouldn’t matter what he thought.
“That was beautiful.”
His soft praise brought a grin to her face and a warmth through her chest. “Thank you.” Her legs were a little weak when she stood and her stomach did a strange dance when she stepped around the piano to approach him. Thankfully her voice was pitched into her charming salesperson tone when she spoke. “Now, what can I help you with?”
“Oh.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stepped back. His gaze skated over the store until it landed on the sign noting the guitar section. “I need some new guitar strings. Thought about getting a new guitar too.”
She cocked her head. “Thought about?” He shrugged. “Do you know what kind you want?”
“Not really.” He moved away. “I’ll just have a look around.”
“Okay,” she said to his back. “Let me know if you have any questions.”
A single head bob was his answer.
She watched him weave his way around the pianos on display, questions tumbling through her mind. Something about the man was familiar, but she didn’t recognize him as a regular customer. Or even an infrequent one.
Curiosity and interest had her trailing him, even though he’d clearly dismissed her. “What kind of guitar do you currently play?”
“I haven’t played in a while,” he mumbled, not turning around.
“So what do you own?”
“Acoustic, electric, classical and bass.”
“Is that all?” she quipped, not meaning to sound as snotty as it came out. “I mean, what else do you need?” And that didn’t sound much better. “Are you in a band?” There. That was a neutral question.
“No.”
Okay. That screamed “leave me alone” so she turned around to give him his space. She’d taken two steps before his soft “Sorry” reached her. Or at least she thought she heard that.
She swiveled back to study him. “What?”
He turned just his head. “Sorry.”
“For what?” She was the one being nosy.
“Being rude.” He looked back to the display of guitar strings.
And there he went endearing himself to her even more. He not only liked but could probably play classical piano music, and he had manners. She crossed her arms over her chest and studied him