“He’s sweet.”
“Are you all right?”
“About Ryder leaving?”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes soften. “I’ve known the kid for six hours. It’s sad what happened to him, but we didn’t form a bond. Were you worried that I was upset because I lost our baby?”
He nods, wanting to be honest. “Yeah, I was.”
“Thank you for caring, but I’m fine.”
Cole shakes his head with a smile. He needs to stop underestimating her strength. He heads to the mini bar and fixes himself a drink, making her a martini just the way Mark does. He sits it on top of the piano and slides in next to her, lifting the lid to expose the keys. “Will you play me something?”
She reaches for the drink and takes a long sip. He wonders if she’ll do this for him. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she rubs her hands over her lap. She’s nervous. “What would you like to hear?”
He brushes her hair away from her face and leans over to give her a kiss behind the ear. “Anything you want.”
“Can you sit behind me?” She glances up. “I haven’t played in front of anyone in a long time.”
“As you wish.” He takes his drink and sinks into the large leather seat behind her, angling it so he can study her profile. His stomach is in a knot for both of them. He pulls an ankle to rest over his leg and settles in for a glimpse into this part of her heart.
She closes her eyes and whispers, “Mom.” He can almost picture her mother sitting there, encouraging her to play. Telling her how much she loves her. Slowly, a faint smile tugs at her cheeks before she extends her hands and presses down.
Her fingers dance along the keys, making it look effortless. He doesn’t recognize the song. It’s different at first, but then a note triggers his memory, and he soon realizes she’s playing Yesterday by The Beatles. She’s twisting the melody, adding a little bluesy touch. He likes it, likes it a lot, actually. But what stops his heart mid-beat is when she starts to sing the chorus. Her voice is low but strong. His brandy gets stuck in his throat around the knot lodged there. Setting his drink down, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs, drinking in the intoxicating feeling. It’s such a raw and powerful moment.
One finger rests against his temple as he closes his eyes, getting lost in the lyrics. A noise off to his side snaps his eyes open. He slowly turns and he sees his mother cupping her mouth. Her cheeks are wet, the same as his. Savannah, right here, right now, is making progress. She’s trusting him with a talent she doesn’t share with anyone. He smiles at his mother, who blows him a kiss before she disappears up the stairs.
Moving his attention back to her, he watches in awe as her body moves to the music, and he knows she’s born to feel it. He never knew she could play like this. It makes him realize how much he still has to learn about her. Which gives him an idea.
Her shoulders rise at the high notes. Her hair slides off to the side, exposing her slender neck, while her eyes close, pouring her heart into every single word. It’s easy to see this is her outlet and passion. He makes a note to look into converting one of the offices into a play room for her. So she can escape and play in private.
When the song ends, she doesn’t turn to look at him. She just sits staring at the keys. Breathing in deeply, he clears his throat and moves to her side, seeing her teary eyes. “She was with me,” she sniffs, “all the time I was in my prison. I could see her and feel her touch sometimes.” A tear slips down, but he catches it before it falls. He doesn’t have to ask her to go on. He’s heard her tapes with Doc Roberts and how she decided to kill herself at the end, when she lost all hope. “Now she’s only with me when I play.” She ducks her head down so her hair hides her face. “I’m scared I’m going to lose my memories of her.”
“Share them with me, so you won’t.” He lifts her chin, showing her his eyes, letting her see his sincerity. “Thank you for that, Savannah.” He slowly leans down and drops a kiss to her lips, letting them linger a few moments before he says, “You have a lovely voice.”
“Thank you.” She sighs, closes the lid, and takes a sip of her martini.
He tucks her hair behind her ear, wanting nothing more than to make her feel better.
He offers a hand after he stands. “Come to bed with me?”
Her smile touches the corners of her eyes as she stands, threading her fingers through his. He pulls her in and buries his face in her hair.
“I need to hold you.”
Her grip tightens as she turns into him. “Please do.”