Christopher and Jaime (Pianos and Promises #1) (12 page)

I couldn’t sleep. I had tossed and turned all night. In a few short hours I would no longer be married to Chris. I kept looking at my ring finger that had been empty for months. Its absence left its mark on my heart and soul. Now I was adding another mark, a big, permanent one. I wasn’t worried that it was the end for us. Chris was more attentive than ever. He was even talking about home shopping this weekend and where we would honeymoon when the time came. I didn’t need a piece of paper to tell me where I belonged, but I wasn’t sure how to feel about a piece of paper telling me that our marriage no longer existed.

Last night, even Chris seemed on edge about it. He was antsy, like he wanted to tell me something, but he played it off, saying it had been a long day at work. He left early. His excuse was that he had to prepare for some showings today but he would meet me at the courthouse at nine.

It was weird to take a personal day to get divorced, but in Tennessee at least one of the parties had to show up for the divorce to be final. We figured we would do it together, even though that sounded wrong. Were we doing the wrong thing?

I got ready before I got Allie up for school. The mirror became my sounding board again. I was going through my list of why it was a good idea to go through with it. My reasons included my parents would see how serious Chris was about our relationship when we got married the next go around, and Chris, for some reason, needed us to. It was like this was his penance and he could forgive himself if we went through with it. And perhaps I also wanted a redo.

In the midst of my contemplation, my phone rang. I walked into my room to pick it up. I assumed it was Chris since it was early. I was correct.

“Hello.”

“I have a proposal for you.”

“Already? I thought we were undoing the proposal today.”

“Jaimes.” He blew out a large breath. “I don’t want to divorce you.”

“But . . .”

He wouldn’t let me get a word in. “Please let me finish. One of us has to show up today. If you want to go through with it, I’ll support that one hundred percent and I’ll do my best to win you back, but if . . . if you want to stay married to my sorry self, meet me at the time of our hearing at the address I’m texting you. You’re my choice.”

“What?”

“I love you, Jaimes.” He hung up.

I sat on my bed and stared at the phone in my hand. The text showed up immediately. The address was a good way outside of Nashville. I leaned back to lay on the bed. I watched the ceiling fan spin around and around. It was kind of how I felt these last couple of years, like I was on a ride that kept going in circles. But we had made a lot of progress in the last several weeks. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but I never expected it to be. The only thing we hadn’t settled was more children. Being the father Allie deserved was his priority. I respected that. He wasn’t slamming the door on it like before, but he wasn’t committing to it either.

I could divorce him and give him time to explore his feelings. But did I really want to do that? Didn’t I love him just for him? Would I ever be as happy with someone else? I had tried, and in the process I hurt two men I deeply cared about. Good men, the kind of men you bring home to meet your parents and make lifelong plans with. The kind that write songs for you, and rub your feet, and remember all the big and small details about your time together. But neither of them ever made me feel like Chris. When they held my hand it was nice, but when Chris took my hand, it enlivened me. Our connection produced this unseen energy. It went beyond a physical connection.

So, could I live without Chris? Yes. But there wasn’t a part of me that wanted to. Divorcing him, though, didn’t mean losing him. It meant we were reevaluating and starting over. And maybe that’s what we needed.

I burned Allie’s breakfast trying to decide what to do. The smell of burnt cinnamon muffins filled our small home. Then I over poured the milk in her cereal bowl. How we made it out the door on time, I had no idea.

My heart felt like it was sprinting as I drove toward I-65. Was I heading north toward the courthouse or south toward Chris? But didn’t both directions lead to him? I thought about that as I waited at a red light. And did I really care what my parents thought about him? They never took the time to know the real him. To them, he was a snotty rich brat that lived on the other side of the tracks. But that had never been him. Did I need him to repeat the same vows he said to me over two years ago? We were both faithful to them; wasn’t that all that mattered? Was it really going to change how I felt about him? Until death do us part?

I turned my right turn signal on and got onto the on ramp headed south. Indecision left me. I was filled with peace and wonder about where Chris was and why he wanted me to meet him there.

The seventy-mile-per-hour speed limit felt slow. It was how I felt on Tuesdays growing up. School had seemed to drag on those days. I couldn’t wait to get to piano lessons. I couldn’t wait to see Chris.

The exit my GPS was telling me to take was one I had never taken before, and I could see why. It was a place where some of Tennessee’s elite lived. We’re talking mega country star status. I grew more curious as I drove into a gated community. I was nervous to give my name for fear I had gone to the wrong place, but the guard let me through. The neighborhood was filled with mansions, each one distinct but prestigious.

I pulled into the long drive of the given address. Chris’ car was parked out front. I pulled in behind him. I guessed I was supposed to go to the door, but I waited to see if Chris would come out. At a minute until nine, I decided to make my way to the front door. I wondered how Chris knew whoever owned the beautiful brick palace.

I rang the doorbell and was promptly greeted by a graceful looking older woman. She exuded charm in her designer clothing. And she wore her long, gray hair well. For some reason she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.

“Jaime, I presume?”

“Yes.”

She smiled and it shined. “Please come in. I’m Amelia East.”

Before I stepped in, I heard a sound that stopped me in my tracks. It was a sound I thought I would never hear again. Most people don’t believe it, but each piano has a distinct sound if you listened close enough. There was no mistaking the timbre. Tears welled up in my eyes.

Amelia took my hand. “This way dear.”

I followed obediently to the sound of the “Westside Story Medley” we used to play. He was at the “I Feel Pretty” portion. I laughed, thinking of him saying how pretty he was whenever we used to play it.

Amelia smiled up at me and my own private joke.

He
was
pretty.

She led me to an open room and there sat my piano with my husband at the helm. He was rusty, but my old friends never sounded or looked better together. The new owners had obviously taken great care of her. The ebony wood shined, and she was in tune.

Amelia dropped my hand. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Chris stopped playing and looked up at me. I could see the relief in his eyes from across the room. “You came.”

I nodded. “I came.” I barely contained my emotions.

He motioned with his finger to join him.

I walked in reverence toward him and my future.

He slid over for me on the bench. The same bench we had sat on together hundreds of times. The same bench where I fell in love with him. I ran my fingers across the keys. That was enough to make the moisture in my eyes run down my cheeks.

He reached up and stroked my cheek. “Tears?”

“How did you find Gran’s piano and why are we here?”

“I thought you would want to play it again.”

“I do, but . . . isn’t it weird to ask to play some stranger’s piano?”

A smiled played on his lips. “I wouldn’t call you strange. Maybe you dress a little different, but I find it sexy.”

I let those words sink in while my heart beat out of my chest. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He tucked some of my hair behind my ear and leaned in closer. His lips lingered an inch from my own. “I tracked down who bought the piano through the auction house records, and when I explained to Amelia the terrible mistake I had made in selling it, she was persuaded to sell it back at a premium.”

I leaned my forehead against his. “That’s a lot of money.”

“You’re worth every dime.” He kissed my lips with the softest of touches. “The only question now is where we are going to put it.”

“I suppose we should buy a house.” I pretended to be coy.

He kissed me again, this time longer. “I suppose we should.”

This time I pressed my body against him and kissed him deeper.

His hands ran up and down my back as our lips danced together in perfect time. He abruptly stopped. His grin held mischief. “How many bedrooms should our house have?”

I narrowed my eyes. What difference did that make at the moment? I wanted to get back to our reunion kiss.

“So how many?”

“I guess three? That would give us a guest room or an office.”

Amusement sparkled in his blue eyes. “I don’t know how Allie would feel about sharing a room.”

I didn’t dare hope. I shook my head.

“I know I’m not the best dad around, but I figure if you’re the mom, I can’t screw them up too bad. So, what do you say? Do you want to have a baby with me?”

“More than anything,” I choked out.

“I would say we could get started right now, but I’ll save my piano fantasy for another day.”

We both laughed, but I knew he was serious. I had a feeling I knew what that was, and I would be happy to fulfill it.

He brushed his lips against mine. “Thanks for choosing me.”

“Mmm. You’re welcome,” I whispered against his lips.

“Are you ready to play your piano?”

“Just about.” I couldn’t get enough of his lips.

He pulled away. “Wait. I forgot.” He reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out my ring. He picked up my hand and slid the ring back where it belonged. “You told me next time to make sure I put this ring on someone I really love.” His smile told me there was more. He reached into his coat pocket an additional time. This time he pulled out an eternity ring with a band of round diamonds. It glittered in the light. He held it between us.

“What’s this?”

“I love that you wear Gran’s ring, but I wanted you to have one from me.” He slid the new one on top of my wedding ring and held my hand in his.

“It’s beautiful. Now I feel pretty.”

He chuckled. “I love you, Jaimes.”

“I know. Now let’s talk about your timing. It’s all off. Have you forgotten that a half note gets two beats?”

He brushed my hair back and whispered in my ear. “As long as my timing is right with you, that’s all that matters to me.”

I shivered from his warm breath. “I would say it’s right on time.”

Pianos and Promises – Beck and Call

There is always that one guy. You know, the one you would never meet, yet you admired and fantasized about him from afar. In your head, you made up a hundred different scenarios about how you would meet. Everything from the cheesy scene of him running into your cart at the grocery store and falling in love in the frozen food section, to the romantic vision of him seeing you across a candlelit room. He walks toward you with wanting in his eyes. Ha, that sounded cheesy, too.

What I really wanted was for him to notice me while he was walking his beautiful Siberian husky. I think he might have waved at me once while I drove past him. I seriously obsessed about that possibility for three days. I even tried my best to walk my sweet mutt, Toby, during some of the same times I’d noticed him walking his dog, but I hadn’t run into him yet. Not that I was sure what I would do if I did, but I just wanted an up close view of him.

From what I’d noticed, he was tall; I would say at least six foot two. And heavenly, like a vision of an angel. He had rich dark hair on his head and face. His short beard outlined his strong jaw. At least I think it did. I was only seeing him from a distance. More than anything, I wanted to get close enough to see what the color of his eyes were and confirm my observations of him.

But maybe it was better if I never talked to him. What if he had terrible teeth or horrible breath? Or the IQ of a brick? But he looked smart and confident—he walked with his head held high. I wouldn’t say he strutted, but he walked with command. And his pure-bred dog said he had money, so he couldn’t be too dumb. And I knew everyone that lived in our little, but older, middle-class neighborhood. He probably lived in the much more expensive new development near ours, which again signaled he had money. Not that money and intelligence went hand in hand, but it couldn’t hurt.

I sighed and threw myself back on my bed. It didn’t matter who the mystery man really was. If he was everything I assumed, he wouldn’t want to be with someone like me anyway. And I was sure, as fine as he was, he already had a girlfriend, or maybe a wife.

On that depressing note, my phone rang. I recognized the ringtone of my best friend. I reached down and grabbed it out of my bag. “Speak to me, Jillian.”

She laughed. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“I’m taking a five-minute breather before I head to Bangers.” I practically lived at the piano bar I bartended at several nights a week. And I performed there whenever I could.

“You work too much.”

“Someone has to pay the bills.”

“Maybe . . . you should consider selling the house?”

I closed my eyes and blew out a huge breath. “I can’t do that to Noah. All of his friends live here and I can’t afford another place in this school district, even if I sold the house. Besides, when I do, that money will be used to send Noah to college.”

“You’re a good sister.”

“I’m all he has.”

“That’s part of the reason I’m calling. I overheard one of my patients talking to his friend. His friend is looking for someone a couple of hours each weekday to take care of his dog and do light housework. I told him I might know someone who would be interested. So, are you?”

I could hear the hesitation in her voice. I knew she wanted me to say no, but I needed the extra money. I sat up and ran my fingers through my dark, naturally curly hair that had a mind of its own. “That would be terrific. I could squeeze that in between my job at the gym and Bangers.” I taught kick-boxing and had a few personal training clients. I was trying to get more, that’s why I needed the extra job—to fill in the gaps.

“Are you sure?”

“I haven’t been sure about anything since Momma died, but I do what I have to do.”

“I hope Noah appreciates everything you do for him.”

I laughed. “He’s a fifteen-year-old boy being raised by his bossy and sometimes moody twenty-seven-year-old sister. I don’t think appreciation is the word for it.”

“Someday it will get better.”

“We all eventually die, I hear.”

“You have a morbid sense of humor, Call.”

“Anyone who grew up with the first name Edith in the last century has to. How else could I deal with life?” I would never understand my parents’ reasoning for naming me after some long-dead aunt who hadn’t even done anything spectacular with her life. And they hadn’t had the decency to give us some fabulous last name I could go by, either. Call was okay, but I always had to explain that it was my last name. It garnered weird stares, but really? Edith? I loved my parents, but they must have been high on something when I was born.

She laughed at me again. “Well, anyway, I’ll send you Charles Beckett’s information. He’s my patient’s friend.”

“Charles Beckett, huh? Sounds snobbish.”

“My patient is a nice guy, so hopefully he will be, too.”

“Ooo. How nice is he?”

“Happily married nice.”

“Bummer.”

“I’m not ready to be in a relationship again.”

“I know,” I commiserated with her. She was barely out of her divorce and newly back into her job as a physical therapist.

“Someday we will both find Mr. Right, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, I suppose. I better go. I need to make sure Noah has finished his homework before I do my best to intoxicate people.”

“With alcohol, or your voice?”

“Hopefully some of both tonight.”

“Okay, let me know how it turns out with Charles Beckett.”

“You know I will.”