Page 44 of Chasing Clouds

“Hmm,” he murmurs, not really responding.

Putting the remaining tools in a large bucket, I push it to the corner then take the seat next to him. I try to brush more dust off me, but it’s not helping. I’m dirty.

Turning to face him, I prop my feet up next to his. “You’re not how I expected you to be.”

He chuckles and his brows pop up. “Really? How did you expect me to be?”

“I don’t know. The way you carried yourself at the wedding and reception, I think I just thought you would live more of a bachelor lifestyle. You’re young, successful, outgoing, and handsome, but here you’re so dedicated to what you do, quiet, almost introverted.” My voice is almost a whisper as I finish my sentence.

His forehead wrinkles with worry. “You were warned that it was going to be boring here.”

“I’m not complaining, not at all. Quite frankly, I have zero interest in any kind of excitement. Being here is exactly what I needed. So, again, thank you.”

He lifts his hand and rubs his chin as he thinks about what I’ve said. His eyes lower as he takes in the dust and the flecks of paint stuck to my skin, and then they slide back to mine. “You’re not really what I expected either.”

“What did you think I would be like?” I grin at him.

“Snobbier.”

A laugh busts out of my mouth, and he smiles along with me.

“Admit it, princess, given what I saw in Savannah, that’s a fair assessment.”

“Yes, I believe it is.”

That wedding was so over the top, the people so pretentious, I would be thinking the same thing. Reaching for the beer, I take a sip and hand it to him. He drinks after me, and I immediately decide his lips on my bottle is sexy.

“Tell me about this music.”

“What about it?”

“Why do you like blues music so much? You played it on the car ride down here, and you turn it on nightly. I’m curious.”

He leans over and tries to brush the paint flecks off my leg. His hand is warm, and the paint doesn’t move. I laugh at his attempt and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“I do like blues—more specifically, soul blues. I grew up listening to it.” He reclines more in his chair.

“What is soul blues?”

“It’s a combination of soulful music and urban contemporary music. It allows more than just the typical three-chord boundaries found in traditional blues. Think Etta James, Ray Charles, B.B. King.”

“I love B. B. King.”

“Me too. I saw him once. He was performing in the city, so Mr. Dan bought us three tickets.” He breaks eye contact with me and looks out over the city, thinking about the memory. “Instead of going to the concert with his friends, he wanted to take me and Nate. It was my first concert, and to this day, the best.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” I pull my legs underneath me and curl up in the chair. “Tell me more—who’s Mr. Dan?”

He looks at me, reaches over, and picks up my hand. He starts rubbing my fingers, and I have to forcefully keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head at the sensation.

“After school, while my mother was still working, Nate and I would sometimes go across the hall and visit with Mr. Dan. He was about ten years older than my mother and played in a blues band at night. This man was born with music in his bones. I asked him once what he loved about it so much and he said, ‘Music is the only thing that understands and can respond to all emotions of the heart. When you’re happy you hear the melody, when you’re angry you focus on the beat, and when you’re sad you listen to the lyrics.’”

“Wow, I’ve never thought about it that way, but I can totally see it.”

“He played the piano, the saxophone, and the trumpet. He tried to teach Nate to play the piano for a while, but Nate was never one to sit still for very long. He always had to be moving.”

I smile thinking about Nate racing around the tennis court. “I don’t think that’s changed.”

“No, it hasn’t.” He chuckles. “Music was always floating through the hallways. No one ever complained, and before someone new moved in, they were informed. Griping about the music was not permitted.”