looked up from the grocery list I was compiling when Brody set my violin case down with a thud. I glared in his direction. “Watch it. That piece of wood in there is like my child.”
His lips twitched. “Well, what do you say you take your precious baby for a spin tonight?”
I froze, my grip on the pencil tightening as if it were my last lifeline. “Play for you?”
“Hunter and I were talking, and it turns out the band playing at The Catch tonight is bluegrass. They’d love to have a violinist with them for a few songs.”
The casual way Brody shared this news had me fighting the urge to throttle him. “You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself.”
His grin widened. “You want to kill me a little bit right now, don’t you?”
“The plants in the greenhouse do need a little fertilizer.”
“I’ll make sure to watch my back for the foreseeable future. But in the meantime, you should get ready. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
“Are you insane?” I barked. I was showered, but that was it. No makeup. Hair not done. And I was currently wearing a pair of sweats and one of Brody’s hoodies.
His brows pulled together. “What?”
“Men,” I grumbled as I stood. “No consideration for what women have to go through.”
“What did I do?”
I ignored Brody’s question as I headed for the stairs, cursing him the entire way. I did a bare-bones makeup job. Some concealer, blush, and mascara. A little flick of eyeliner to make the green in my eyes pop. I didn’t have time to curl or straighten my hair. Hell, I probably didn’t even remember how to style it, it had been so long. But I took some strands in the front and wove a slender braid across my crown, forming its own headband.
I took in my face in the mirror. It had been such a long time since I’d done anything other than sunscreen and lip balm. I had to admit, it felt nice. And focusing on my appearance meant I could ignore that I would be playing in front of more than one person for the first time in over a decade.
I tried not to let the ugly voices take root in my brain. The ones that said this was an unnecessary risk. The selfish ones. Taking a slow breath, I reminded myself how small the island was. That it was winter and mostly tourist-free. The chances of running into someone who would recognize me were slim.
I headed for the guest room’s closet to inventory what my options were. A few days ago, Brody had insisted that I just go ahead and bring all of my clothes up to the main house. I’d drawn the line at placing them in the master closet. While I spent every night in that bed, sharing a closet and dresser felt too much like moving in.
I nibbled at the corner of my lip as I surveyed the things in front of me. I didn’t exactly have a lot to consider. My fingers traced over sweaters and outdoor gear, things that were made for the labor I spent most of my days doing.
I came to a stop at the end of the row. The one nice dress my aunt Georgie had insisted on buying me. It was timeless, she’d said. Black with a fitted bodice that hugged my limited curves, making them look a bit more voluptuous than they actually were. It had long, gauzy bell-sleeves that fluttered when I moved. I could only imagine what they’d look like as I played. The skirt had two layers: a shorter, form-fitting slip, and that same chiffon overlay that allowed you to see the limbs beneath it.
I took a deep breath and pulled it from the closet. I searched for one of my few pairs of fancy underwear. It just seemed wrong to have cotton beneath this dress. I hummed to myself as I pulled everything on, not allowing myself to look until I was completely put together. Slipping my feet into my favorite pair of booties, I turned to face the mirror.
For the first time in years, I felt beautiful. And Brody had given me a reason to remember. That I was real. That my body existed. And even though I often tried to hide it away out of fear of prompting questions, it was still there. And it was beautiful. No matter what scars marred my skin.