Blaze of Winter: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance (9 page)

Avery nodded. “Jimmy, thank you. It was delicious.”

The huge, blond man gave her a smile. “It’s nice to cook for people who appreciate it. Come over any time.”

“Be careful or I might take you up on that offer.”

“You know our house is always open to you, Avery,” Emma said, looking serious for a moment.

“I do. But I also know that you two just got married and you probably appreciate your privacy.”

Emma waited until Jimmy had his back turned. She gave a little satisfied smile and pointed at the big man’s back. Avery stifled a laugh. She was glad her quiet older sister had
found happiness with a man who for all intents and purposes seemed her exact opposite. With an outgoing, oversized personality and a body to match, Jimmy had drawn Emma out of her shell in such a loving, natural way that Avery could not have been more thrilled. He was truly worthy of Emma.

“So it’s still early. What’s on tap for this evening?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I’m actually dusting off my violin tonight.”

Emma sat up straight in her chair. “Really? That’s great, Avie! Where are you playing?”

“Luke Bedwin asked me to sit in on a rehearsal with him and some other locals who play in a chamber music group. We’re meeting at the Episcopal Church, right off the Green.”

“It’s been so long since you’ve played. It’ll feel good to get back to it.”

Avery shrugged. “I suppose. I had so little time while I was in Boston. I think the last time I played was a couple of years ago with that Back Bay group, but now that I have nothing to do …”

Emma waved her hand. “Oh, stop that. This is why I encouraged you to stay longer in Star Harbor. The most important thing you can do is take care of yourself.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” She shook her head.

“It never does,” Jimmy interjected sagely, coming back to collect the rest of the dishes. “Soul searching’s the hardest.”

Seemed like everyone in Star Harbor was a philosopher. Avery just shrugged and went with it. “I know you’re right, but I just don’t feel like I’ve made much progress in figuring out my future. Especially because I keep getting sidetracked with other stuff.”

“Like what?” Emma asked.

Avery shot a glance at Jimmy. He was at the sink, his back turned to them. “Theo Grayson,” she whispered.

Emma’s eyes widened. “How is
he
sidetracking you?” she whispered back.

“He’s just … just …”

“There,” Emma supplied. Avery nodded. A small, secretive smile crept onto Emma’s face, then disappeared just as quickly. “You could always tell him to get lost.”

She could, but it was extremely unlikely that he’d actually heed her request. He seemed to have a mind of his own, as well as a powerful body to go with it. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” And she honestly didn’t.

First of all, she
was
seriously trying to get her life back on track. Should she continue to do social work or not? And if she did, should she return to Back Bay? These were huge questions. A complicated love affair was the last thing she needed. Which brought her to the second issue—the issue that became more serious the more she thought about it: she couldn’t remember ever having such a powerful reaction to a man. This out-of-control, teetering-at-the-edge, roller-coaster ride of lust and desire frightened her more than she could say. There was a reason she hadn’t had a normal relationship before: it was impossible for her to go all-in with someone without thinking about how it was going to end and all the emotional turmoil that would go along with it. And she was afraid that if Theo found out how much he intrigued her, he’d use that emotion to deepen their connection. Any kind of entanglement right now would be stupid. She needed to get her head on track, keep her emotions in check and her body out of the game.

With difficulty, Avery willed away thoughts of Theo, then stretched and stood. “I hate to eat and run, but rehearsal starts in an hour and my instrument is at Kate’s.”

Emma smiled at her. “Thanks for coming over. James and I would be happy to set up a standing pre-rehearsal dinner date. Same time next week?”

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you both.”

Jimmy turned from the sink, dried his hands, and walked over to her. “Anytime, little sister,” he said, before engulfing her in a huge embrace. Every time he hugged her, she was reminded of his ursine nickname.

Emma walked her to the door and gave her a little hug. “Good night, Avie,” she said. “Be safe driving back and have fun at rehearsal.”

Avery couldn’t help but return her smile. Emma looked so much like their mom that it made her heart swell. “I’ll try.” She walked over to her car in the brisk evening air.

“Oh, one more thing,” Emma called out to her from the farmhouse door. “The next author series lecture is coming up this Tuesday. Will you come?”

“Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it,” Avery yelled back before slamming the car door shut and driving back to town.

On a hard wooden pew, Avery unpacked her violin from its case and pulled out her bow. After tightening it, she swept the sticky rosin brick up and down the horsehair to give it some resistance as she glanced around the church. A group of four chairs had been arranged in the nave, forming a semicircle just below the pulpit. Karen Wright was already seated in the rightmost seat tuning up her cello, and a tall man with dark brown hair and kind eyes stood behind her with his bass. She thought that must be Royce Hogan, Star Harbor’s mayor. Aunt Kate had told her that Royce’s election was hotly contested for one reason: Royce hadn’t been born in town. Some deemed it sacrilegious to have a non-native Star Harborian as an elected official, but he’d made some very good decisions in the fourteen months since the election.

To Royce’s left, an upright piano was angled sideways so that Andy Neiman, the proprietor of the Rusty Nail, had an unobstructed view of all of the string players. The tall, broad man gave her a wave. She knew Andy only by sight and by reputation. Known for his no-nonsense attitude and for being calm under pressure—good qualities to have in his line of work—Andy also had the distinction of being extremely soft-spoken. Soft-spoken, but firm. Kate liked him, and that was enough for Avery to like him, too.

John Anson, a bachelor in his late fifties, was on the other side of the church in a different pew, tuning up his violin. John ran the pharmacy, and Avery had seen him once or twice when she went there to fill Kate’s prescriptions.

She picked up her violin and ran her bow across the strings, testing them for strength and pitch. Avery thwacked her portable tuning fork on the heel of her shoe and held it up to her ear, listening for the A-pitch vibration. Having been untouched for a year, her violin was seriously out of tune.

As the familiar act of tuning returned to her, a tiny quiver of excitement formed in her stomach. It
would
feel good to practice again. And, if all went well, to perform. Just then, Luke came up to her.

“I see that you found the church all right.”

She quirked a brow. “It’s the only one in town.”

“Yes, well, it’s your first time here. Got any questions for me before we start?”

“Not yet,” she said, “but once we start playing I might.”

Luke smiled. “Have you met the others?”

“I know them all by sight, but I wouldn’t mind formal introductions.”

“No problem.” He led her over to the group.

“Glad you’re here,” John said, crossing the nave to shake her hand.

“Lovely to see you again,” Karen said, inclining her head so that her cropped salt-and-pepper hair shimmered under the lights. She had her cello in position and was flipping through some sheet music on the black metal stand in front of her. Andy and Royce each gave her a wave from where they were situated.

Avery held her instrument at her side and pushed her shoulders back. “I’m a bit out of practice,” she admitted to the group. “But I’ll do my best.”

“Here,” Luke said, handing her some sheet music. “Andy and Royce will be leaving early, so while we have them, we’re going to do some Chopin. When they leave, we can try a few pieces with just the quartet.”

“Sounds good,” Avery said, taking her position at the end of the semicircle opposite Karen. John took the seat next to Avery’s, and Luke sat in the last chair.

The group spent a few minutes tuning together before beginning their practice. Once they were ready to begin, Avery flipped her sheet music for the Piano Concerto No. 1 into position.

“Have you played this before?” John asked.

Avery shook her head. “Never.” She took in the first page of the piece. She’d thought she would be nervous about the tremendous number of black notes on the page, but she felt exhilarated instead.

“It’s an interesting one. Give you a run for your money.” He turned to Luke. “Shall we?”

“Yes. Avery, want to start us off?”

As the first violinist, it was her duty. She took a deep breath and got her instrument into position. Then she inclined her head and began the piece. It was exciting—and humbling—to play again after such a long absence. Andy’s solo passages were beautifully done and even though they’d never played together before, the sextet’s tone and tempo was fairly seamless. They finished the allegro, the first movement, and stopped.

“Want to go back or go on?” Luke asked.

“Go on,” Karen said. The others nodded.

“All right. Avery?”

She started them off on the second movement, the larghetto. By the time they’d finished the final movement, Avery was thrumming with happiness. The emotional sweep of the music, the sheer delight of having her fingers fly across the strings, made her heart swell. An emptiness began to form inside of her as the last note sounded.

“That went well,” Luke said when everyone had collected themselves.

Karen snorted. “What an understatement. Andy, your playing was divine, but I’m just thrilled to have Avery aboard. You’re a great sight reader.”

The others rumbled approvingly. Avery blushed. “Thanks. It was fun.”

“That’s probably enough of that piece for tonight,” Luke said. “We can work on it more next week. For now, I think we should move on to the Tchaikovsky Allegretto in E Major. This one’s perfect for you, Avery.”

She tipped her head. “Why?”

“It’s light, but it’s got a depth to it.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply nodded and studied the music while Royce packed up his bass.

“Same time next week, guys,” Luke said. “We’ll be doing the Mendelssohn, so prepare for that.”

“Will do. Catch you at the Nail.” Royce and Andy left.

For the next hour, the remaining players practiced the Tchaikovsky—a rousing, passionate piece—and a few more modern pieces by Frank Bridge. Avery was delighted with the selections. It was nearly ten by the time they’d finished, but Avery felt fresh and clear-headed. As they packed up their instruments, Luke approached her.

“So,” he said, his hands behind his back. “You interested in coming back next week?”

She didn’t hesitate before responding. “Absolutely. This was one of the most fun evenings I’ve had in a long while.”

He smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. Here.” He handed her a stack of sheet music. “This is what we did this week and what we’ll be doing next week. I’ve also included some Christmas music. We always do a holiday performance Christmas week. We’d be pleased to have you. That is, if you’re going to be around.”

Avery blinked. She’d been taking her stay in Star Harbor week by week. With a start, she realized it was early December and she hadn’t thought through where exactly she would be
spending the holidays. For a split second, she had the sensation of feeling oddly detached from her old life, and not quite entrenched in the new. Was this her new life? She was on leave from her job and almost everything she owned was back in her apartment in Boston. All she’d taken with her to Star Harbor was a suitcase of clothing and her car. And her violin. Even though she hadn’t played in so long, for some reason she’d wanted to take her instrument with her. It was part of who she was, even if she couldn’t find the time to play.

Luke must have sensed her uncertainty, because he held up his hand. “You don’t have to tell me now. Why don’t you just take the music home, practice, and you can tell me in a week. Sound fair?”

“Sure. I’ll do that.” She tucked the music into her bag. “Thanks again for letting me play with you.”

“Believe me, the pleasure was all ours,” Luke said. “Now, it’s a tradition for us to get a drink after practice at the Rusty Nail. Andy and Royce will be waiting. Care to join us?”

“I’d love to,” she said with a smile.

CHAPTER 8

Theo stretched in the uncomfortable wooden chair and glanced at his watch. Ten P.M. He pushed his glasses onto his head and rubbed his sore eyes. After leaving the LMK that evening, he’d stared at old, blurry copies of newspaper articles on microfiche and ancient, dog-eared tomes about pirating and shipwrecks off the Massachusetts coast for the better part of an hour. The scanned copies of the oldest continuously published newspaper, the
Boston News-Letter
, were fascinating, but they were murder on his eyes. Still, he couldn’t complain too much. He’d made more progress on plotting his new novel in the last day than he had in a month back in California.