Sleeping Arrangements (Silhouette Desire) by Amy Jo Cousins Page B

twisted themselves awkwardly together. She forced them to separate and hang empty at her sides. “I heard him play in a club when I was six.” The memory flooded her, as immediate as ever, and she tilted her head back, blinking to clear her eyes. “He was amazing. His music was like honey on fire. Lick-your-fingers sweet and white-hot at the same time.”
    “I’m envious.”
    She looked at Spencer. Weight resting on one hip, hands resting in his pockets, he stood rooted in one place, as if he would stand there until the world split into a million pieces and time stopped, just to listen to her speak. That she felt comfortable doing so was the surprise.
    “She never let him set foot in this house. Not once,” she said. The many-paned windows looking out onto the sweep of the snow-covered front lawn were a step away. She stroked the velvet nap of the heavy, floor-length drapes. She meant her laugh to be harsh. It wasn’t. “You’d think the music would have been something they had in common.”
    The sharp edges of the lead mullions created a diamond pattern that wavered before her. Stupid tears. She wondered if she could blame it on PMS, which sometimes made her weepy at the most ridiculous moments. A knuckle under her lashes erased any trace of moisture before she faced the room, and Spencer, again.
    “Wanna show me the rest of the house?” She brushed past the intimate moment as if it hadn’t occurred. Something that was becoming a habit with her and this man. Neither of them had spoken a word about the kiss they’d shared earlier. And it had been much more than just a kiss, if she was honest.
    She started to leave the room. A sharp tug at her elbow spun her around.
    “Not this time.” Spencer stood over her. He gripped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “I can see what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, as if I were inside your head, Addy. Do you think I don’t notice it? How you shut down completely as soon as you catch yourself talking to me like a normal human being?”
    Tearing herself out of his hands, she left the room.
    “You can just stay out of my head,” she said, throwing the words over her shoulder.
    “Your great-aunt gave up her music.” He followed her into the hall entryway. The man couldn’t let a damn thing go without having the last word. She ignored him.
    He kept talking.
    “I don’t know why she did it, but whatever her reasons were, she never played again. Even here, in her own home, she kept this room closed up.” She heard him sigh. Watched her fingertips as they skated over the checkerboard inlay of a small table against the wall.
    “Maybe she was afraid of your father—if not for herself, then for what he might represent for your mother.”
    This was a bit much. No one should make excuses for her great-aunt’s actions. No one could.
    “And maybe it just wasn’t proper.” She looked him straight in the eye. Listen up, buddy. “Her niece got herself pregnant by a guy who had to work for a living, a musician who played in bars, not symphony halls. Instead of the grand society wedding, there was a quick ceremony at City Hall. And instead of gossiping proudly about the match with all her rich friends, Great-Aunt Adeline pretended it never happened. That my parents simply didn’t exist.”
    “You may find this hard to believe—” he was angry now, she could see, blue eyes narrowed and alive with energy, both hands open in the air as if he’d like to reach out and strangle her “—but to a woman like your great-aunt, what was proper, as you put it, was important. She grew up in a different world and she believed she’d been taught what was right.”
    “Still with the excuses,” she said and threw her hands up. “You know what I was taught by my parents, Reed?” She pointed a finger at him, stopped herself from poking him with it. “That nothing matters more than love. What you love. Who you love. That’s it. All that counts in this life.”
    Before