Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Right.” She graced him with a fleeting smile. “I appreciate that. Do you need anything from me?”
“Nah, I’m good.” He stood staring at her for a long time before nodding toward her hand. “Are you sure your wrist is okay?”
She glanced down at the brace and then shrugged. “It still hurts sometimes, but not as badly as in the beginning. I’ve had the week off. Which sucked, because I had to push back my deadlines, but the break helped.”
A short awkward silence followed her response and Gideon searched for something else to say. “I didn’t know you played the violin.”
The comment was random as hell, but it was something he’d been curious about since she had mentioned it to Adam Reece the week before.
“What?” The question emerged on an incredulous little laugh. “I don’t play the violin anymore.”
“Do you ever want to?”
“What would be the point?”
“You loved it, didn’t you? Why can’t you play for your own pleasure?”
“I once thought that it was my dream to be a concert violinist,” she murmured, and rested the rake upright against the gnarled trunk of the grand old oak before walking toward him. She dusted the rump of her capris with her uninjured hand as she walked. She joined him on the patio and sat on one of the deep, comfortable looking rattan chairs. Gideon sank into the other one—placing his tool box on the ground next to the chair—without waiting for an invitation. “And my tutor believed I had the talent to do that. To achieve that dream would have taken many years of dedication, focus, sacrifice…and in the end, all of that dedication, focus, and sacrifice had to be channeled in a different direction.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not even a little. But I haven’t picked up a violin since.”
“Why not?”
“It wasn’t who I was anymore. I found something I loved even more. And I realized that I’d played because it’d been expected of me. I had some talent and, because of that, everybody felt that it was my responsibility to share it with the world. Thing is…I didn’t feel the same way. It took me years, but I finally understood that I was relieved to give it up. I tried to make Granny June understand that as well, but she always felt such guilt because of it.”
Shadows lurked in her lovely eyes and Gideon hated seeing them there. Her words were delivered in an unemotional tone, but so many emotions lurked in the hidden depths of those eyes, in the tightening of her full lips, the furrow of her brow, and the tic of a tiny muscle in her jaw. She still harbored deep painful feelings about that period of her life, but she’d happily confided in him because she knew exactly how to cope with those emotions. There was a lot to be admired in this woman who’d overcome so much pain and sadness to reach this relatively well-adjusted point of her life.
“When we met—” He wasn’t sure how to phrase the question that had been bothering him all week. She watched him curiously but didn’t prompt him, allowing him to find the words in his own time. “Your grandmother. Was she still alive?”
She toyed with one of the Velcro strips on her brace, opening and closing it repeatedly. The tearing sound set Gideon’s teeth on edge, it felt like a strip of his flesh was being torn off with each harsh rasp.
Finally—mercifully—she stopped and inhaled deeply. She held the breath for a moment before exhaling slowly. “She’d died the week before Cam moved in. In fact he moved in the day after her funeral. Cat had actually been staying over because she didn’t want me to be alone.”
Gideon recalled that day vividly. Remembered the way Cam had stiffened at the sight of the two women sitting on the porch across the cul-de-sac.
“Fuck me, who the hell is that? She’s gorgeous,” his friend had breathed reverently, and when Gideon had looked over, he’d been blown away, then gutted that his friend had seen her first.
But it had soon become clear that Cam had meant the taller woman, whom Gideon hadn’t even noticed. The one who’d caught Gideon’s attention—the small one with the glasses and the kind of girl-next-door appeal that usually did nothing for Gideon—had pretty much ignored them. While Cat had waved and smiled and fluttered eyelashes for all she was worth.
By the time Cat had finally sauntered across the cul-de-sac to make introductions, Gideon had already decided that the small one, Beth, was—disappointingly—a haughty little snob who couldn’t even be arsed to make eye contact with either of them. And he’d known that he would never get along with someone filled with such self-importance. He’d met too many similar people in his past, in his father’s circle of acquaintances.
She had tripped over nothing but air while trailing behind Cat, and Gideon had enjoyed seeing her stumble. It had made her seem more human and had taken her down a peg.