She didn’t respond, so I pulled back. “Let’s get inside. I’m cooking my five-cheese macaroni tonight.”
“I’d like to go to my room. Unless you need help.”
I knew it was only good manners that made Kelly offer. While I was disappointed, I also didn’t want to make her life harder. “You can hang out in your room.” I let us into the house and as we took off our jackets and shoes in the mudroom, I tentatively touched her arm to get her attention. “I’ll be at the piano, Monday after school.”
Kelly nodded ever so slightly without meeting my gaze before she hurried off, disappearing into her bedroom.
It was a step forward.
While I was impatient to feel like I was making a difference in her life, I rationally understood that forging a relationship with her wasn’t going to happen overnight.
While my mac and cheese baked in the oven, I sat down to the piano to play “Moonlight Sonata.” I kept fumbling a chord in the second movement and had to google the piece but once I’d noted the correct phrase, practice went a bit smoother.
Once more I was surprised how good it felt to move my fingers over the keys, eliciting beautiful sound from the baby grand. For so long I’d thought it would be painful, bring up unwanted nostalgia, but all it did was remind me that I could do anything if I put my mind to it.
“We need to talk.” Murray’s deep bark startled me, my fingers scattering across keys with the jolt.
I hadn’t heard him come in over the music.
Now he stood in the doorway, lips pinched, brows pulled together.
That was one unhappy hot fisherman. My pulse skittered with concern. “What is it?”
“Where’s Kelly?”
“In her room.”
“Follow me.” He abruptly turned and walked out.
Confused, anxious, because his demeanor was so unlike him, I pushed back from the piano and hurried after him. Murray was already taking the stairs downward two at a time.
“I have food in the oven.”
“This is important.”
To my surprise, he led me into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind us. I tried not to gape, but I’d been curious about his room since I moved in.
It was huge with lots of floor-to-ceiling glass … and a bathtub in the corner of the room framed by wraparound windows. Icould see a door leading to a separate en suite, so the bathtub was an interior design statement. My cheeks felt hot at the thought of Murray lingering in that tub. You wouldn’t need to worry about strangers seeing you naked, but anyone else in the house would need forewarning not to venture onto the yard facing the water in case they got an eyeful of Murray Shaw.
Not sure I’d take heed of the forewarning, to be honest.
His room lacked personality compared to Kelly’s. There was a super king bed with navy sheets. The bed was made. The built-in closets on the wall opposite the windows hid all his clothes. There were no throw cushions or art or photographs.
There wasn’t even a cozy armchair or a reading nook, and the space could take it.
The view out to the water distracted me until Murray brushed past me. He stopped in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, brow furrowed.
“What is it?” I repeated.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Nick’s latest threats?”
Surprise and dismay mingled at his unexpected question. “How …”
“Ramsay told me.” Something flickered in Murray’s beautiful eyes, and I realized what it was when he asked, “Why did you go to Ramsay and not me?”
Hurt.
I’d hurt his feelings.
