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What He Doesn't Know(26)

By:Kandi Steiner


But I knew to touch it was to die.

I'd been avoiding him since the night we'd gone up Mt. Washington on the  Incline, barely saying more than a few words to him each day. And  earlier that afternoon, he'd burst into my room like he was angry, like  he was about to demand I speak to him - but then he just left.

I'd nearly forgotten about that, especially after going home to  everything Cameron had surprised me with. That had been the thought  taking up the most space in my head. But now that Reese stood before me  again, his face tired and worn, I wondered how he'd been. I wondered how  he felt, what he'd been thinking.

But I couldn't ask.

The distance I'd placed between us was a safety net, and it was one I intended to keep in place.

"Thanks for helping out, by the way," I said, breaking the spell and  putting space between us. "What does she have you working on?"

"I'm writing out the tags for the bidding items," he answered with a  grin. "I knew that whole calligraphy hobby I'd gotten into would be good  for something someday."

I swallowed. "Oh, so you'll be here with me?"

"All night."

Forcing a smile, I pulled out the first basket, eyeing the items on the  table to figure out which I would pair together first. "Awesome. Guess  we should get to work."

And that's exactly what we did.

Other than the music Reese had put on for us, we worked in silence. I  would pile the baskets high and neat, wrapping them with cellophane and  ribbon and flowers in a way I knew Mom would approve of. Then, Reese  would take his time writing out a description card and a bidding  starting amount. We worked in tandem, in perfect rhythm and timing. As  soon as I could finish bundling up a new basket, Reese would put the  final touches on the card he'd been writing, and then I'd pass the new  basket over.

Reese tried to start conversation a few times, and I'd answer his  questions or listen to his stories, but then the words would die down  and only the music existed again. I assumed it was the music on his  phone, played on shuffle, because none of it tied together. One minute  we would be listening to a classical symphony, and the next, a metal  band.                       
       
           


///
       

The minutes turned to an hour easily, and I found myself lost in the  methodical task of it all. This was easy for me - using my mind and my  hands to accomplish a goal. It was what I lived for, like ticking items  off a to-do list or flipping through the pages of a book until the very  end.

Mom loved the people part of hosting, I loved the event planning.

"You're quiet tonight," Reese mused after a while, his eyes glancing up at me briefly from where he was writing out a new card.

I untied the bow I'd just fastened, wrapping it again until the loops were perfectly symmetrical. "Just working."

"Can't talk while you work?"

"The music is good," I said, shrugging. "Sometimes it's nice to just work and zone in."

"You always have loved projects."

Reese watched me then, his hand hovering above the ink like there was more to that sentence than just what I'd heard.

"Where's Cameron tonight?"

I paused, thanking the timing of that question. It looked like I was  just inspecting the ribbon again, not like I was wishing I wasn't alone  in a room with Reese Walker.

I tugged at the end of the ribbon, loosening it again.

"Penguins game."

"Ah, that's right," he said. "Hockey."

"Yep."

I retied the ribbon for a third time, finally satisfied, and slid the  basket toward Reese. His fingers overlapped mine for just a second  before I pulled them away, reaching for a few of the gift cards we had  left to pair with a swag bag from the local golf shop.

"How are you guys?" Reese asked after a moment.

His question shocked me, so much so that I stopped to look at him, but he only continued his careful script on the new card.

"What do you mean? We're fine, of course."

"Fine?" He paused, meeting my eyes with a cocked brow.

I lowered mine.

"Yes, we're fine. We're wonderful. Today, he surprised me by redoing my  library for me for Valentine's Day," I added, smiling as I wrapped the  basket with cellophane. "It's beautiful. And our anniversary is coming  up soon, which is always exciting. I'm sure he has something planned. He  always does."

"That's pretty amazing, that he redid your library for you. Was it in need of an update?"

"Not exactly, but he wanted to do something special for me. He wanted to make it a place I loved again."

"Why did you stop loving it?"

I scratched my neck, not happy with the bow I'd just tied. I ripped the  ribbon loose again. "I don't know, I just did. Why are you asking so  many questions?"

Reese looked at me then, stopping his script mid-word. "Just making conversation."

"Well, we have a lot of work to do. Maybe we should just focus on that."

I wouldn't look at him again, not with his eyes searching me for  something. I didn't even know what he was looking for, but something  told me that I needed to hide it. Something told me that if I even so  much as met his gaze, he'd find what he was looking for.

This was why I'd been put on alert by him saying he'd be here, why my  nerves had kicked in on the car ride over to the club. It was why I'd  avoided time alone with Reese since the night we went up the Incline.  Last time we'd spoken - truly spoken - I'd reminded him I was married.  I'd put distance between us, whether he wanted me to or not.

It wasn't that I didn't trust him, or that I didn't want to be friends with him.

It was that I was too confused, too lost to be around someone who  brought back so many emotions for me - emotions I'd long forgotten, and  ones I never expected to feel again. I was trying to gain my balance  with my husband, to find what we'd lost, to bring our love back to life.

That was my main priority.

I could still feel Reese's eyes hot on my neck as the song changed, and  when it did, he finally looked away. I took a breath at the relief of  not being under his stare, but when he reached forward for the portable  speaker we had, I followed his hand.

And that's when I heard the song.

"Reese," I warned. "Don't you dare."

He wore a crooked grin as his index finger tapped the plus volume button  over and over, Billy Joel's voice growing louder and louder as it  echoed off the walls around us. We were alone in the room, but the  entire country club was full with volunteers for the event as well as  members enjoying their dinners just down the hall.

"Reese!" I scolded, trying to grab the speaker from his hands, but he  stood, holding it high over his head as I jumped up trying to reach it.                       
       
           


///
       

Mom flew in the door in the next moment, her eyes wild and confused.

"What on earth is going on? Reese, turn that down!"

"Not before we dance!"

Reese flitted across the room to Mom next, placing the speaker high on  one of the shelves in the corner before sweeping her up in his arms. I  raced to the corner, hopping up and down trying to reach the speaker on  the shelf, but it was no use.

Piano Man blared at the highest volume setting as Reese did some sort of attempt at a two-step with my mother.

"Reese, let me go! We have so much to do! I have to call the catering  company to triple check the menu and I have to go check on the linens  and make sure the tables are set correctly and that the centerpieces are  the right height and, and … "

Reese spun her out, twirling her back into his arms just in time for the  first chorus to start. He sang at the top of his lungs, off key and too  loud, and suddenly, Mom smiled.

And she started singing, too.

My jaw dropped at the sight of it, Mom and Reese floating around the  messy tables piled high with prizes still to be bundled and baskets and  ribbon and cards and ink. I couldn't believe Mom was dancing, that she  wasn't completely freaked out.

And then I realized this was exactly what she needed.

A laugh shot through me as they twirled in my direction, a few of the  other volunteers gathering in the door frame to watch and sing along.  Reese and Mom threw their hands out toward all of us just in time to  sing the famous question the bar had for the piano man in the song.

It was like being in a piano bar, just like the ones I'd gotten too  drunk in during my college years. Before I knew it, I was swaying along  and singing out loud, too. And suddenly all the stress and tension from  the night melted away, all at the hands of the boy next door.

"Alright, alright," Mom finally said through her laughter, pushing at  Reese's chest with her tiny hands. "I've got to get back to work. Take  over, Charlie."