Page 3 of King of Rhythm
The gate to my driveway is open and the red brick two-story house looms ahead, far larger than I need and more costly than what a band teacher could afford, but the moment I laid eyes on the online listing nine years ago I knew I would buy it. A rueful smile pulls stiffly at my face, an old trace of bitterness tainting my mood and erasing some of my humor. Of course, back then, I also had dreams of filling the house with a family.
As the garage door rumbles down behind me while I turn off my truck, I try to shake off the sour memories. So life didn’t work out exactly how I envisioned. That doesn’t make life bad, far from it. I got the best job in the world as far as I’m concerned and if things work out with Avery like I’m hoping, then the reward will be just as satisfying at thirty-seven as it would have been when I was younger. Some things just take longer than others.
With that firmly in mind, I grab my work bag and head into the house, the fragrant smell of beef filling my nose the moment I open the door.
Bless Mrs. Davis!
Going into the kitchen, I walk over to the cheery white and green crock pot on the long granite counter facing the backyard and spy the note she left.
I asked Avery about meeting tonight and at the time I thought of a popular Italian place that was roughly midway between us. Inhaling the mouth-watering smells in the kitchen, the urge to bring her here is strong. My housekeeper makes a savory beef stew and according to her note, she left sourdough rolls as well. My eyes sweep over the counter, and I discover a bowl draped with a blue tea towel. A peek inside shows big and hearty rolls. My stomach gives a low growl, and I can’t resist grabbing one and taking a bite, my eyes rolling in bliss as I chew.
All the wishful thinking in the world won’t help me if I’ve scared Avery off, though. A glance at the microwave shows that it’s fast approaching five thirty. I dig into my bag and see a message alert.
AVERY: Tomorrow?
My lips turn down at her reply. Tempering my impatience, I remind myself that another day isn’t going to kill me and besides, she wants to meet.
BRYCE: Italian? Six?
AVERY: I like Italian. Six works. Bella Mia’s?
It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but she wouldn’t have mentioned it if she didn’t like it. There will be plenty of time to introduce her to real Italian food in the future.
BRYCE: See you then. I’ll be the guy with the biggest grin on my face.
A few minutes go by before she replies, and I’m reminded again that Avery is more reserved at times, so I try not to take her simple reply of ‘See you’ personally.
She was the same the first several times we spoke on the phone, her soft voice tense and radiating nervousness. Thankfully, soon enough, she relaxed, and her responses came faster and gave me more insight into her. Though, I must admit, someone as lovely as her being shy still takes me by surprise.
One day very soon, I hope to tease her about all this. For now, I’ll eat my dinner alone and count down the hours until we chat again.
My grin is wry as my gaze flashes to the time on my phone. Less than three hours until our online bingo group meets, and I can’t wait.
CHAPTER THREE
AVERY
I’m so nervous I’m practically numb as I enter Bella Mia’s. I’ve only ever gotten takeout from here, so the dim lighting is a bit of a welcome surprise, as is the relaxed atmosphere. Mellow and relaxed is good. Hopefully, it will rub off on me and get me through this evening without hyperventilating or making a complete fool of myself.
A smiling woman around my age glides by with a huge tray piled high with dirty dishes and gestures with her head toward the dining area behind her. “Sit wherever you like,” she says before disappearing into the kitchen area, the clang of pans unexpectedly loud before the swinging door mutes the noise.
Helplessly, my gaze follows her for a moment, the strap of my purse digging into my fingers as I cling to it like it’s a lifeline. Drawing in a deep breath, I force my feet to move, and I take a few mincing steps into the dining room. It’s the moment of truth. Is Bryce as real and amazing as I’ve grown to believe, or am I about to be crushed?
Either way, Sarah is on standby, eager to hear about this date and promising me she’ll be ready with a bottle of wine to toast an amazing time with a great guy or to help me drown my sorrows. After she gets all the details out of me, that is. Yesterday, I held her off by promising her an epic gab session soon and I know she’ll hold me to that.
The place isn’t that busy and for a moment I wonder if I arrived before Bryce when my gaze is drawn to a man standing up from a table in the back, a huge grin on his handsome bearded face.
My lips part and relief surges through me.He showed up! And he looks just like his picture!
My stride lengthens and I walk to him, my greedy eyes drinking him. It’s only as he comes to meet me that I realize something. The closer we get, the more it becomes apparent that I’m taller than him and I’m not even wearing heels.
And when we’re standing in front of each other and his firm jaw tilts up just the briefest amount so he can gaze into my eyes, unease slithers cold and icy down my spine and I feel the judging stares of the other diners on us and I want to sink into the floor.
Which I can’t do. But I can leave.
This just isn’t going to work and what the hell was I thinking, not asking his height in the first place?! Why didn’t that ever come up the dozens of times we’ve talked?
My damp hands clench into fists and my breathing speeds up as I feel a panic attack coming on. I hate all this attention. I should leave. Right now.
