Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (15 page)

"I get it. I’m a top-notch driver, though, so don’t worry about it! You can relax.”

He’s looking at my hand which is gripping the seatbelt. “Oh, sorry.” I let go and cross my arms, pushing them against my chest.
 

“How about a little Barenaked Ladies to calm you down?”

Anything to stop me from making a fool of myself.

My eyes are heavy, and I struggle to open them. When I finally do, I realize we’re parked. “Where are we?"

"My parent's house. I made an executive decision to stop. I don’t think the conditions are safe to drive in anymore."

"Oh?” I peer out the window to a blizzard. “When did this happen?”

“About forty minutes ago. We’re only an hour away from the hotel, but I’m not comfortable with the rate the snow is falling.” He unbuckles. “The storm should stop soon. We can start back on the road in the morning.”

“Morning?”

“Yes. Morning. The roads are practically pure ice at this point. Quite honestly, I’ll drive in just about anything. You know it’s bad if I’m calling it quits.”

Sigh. I’m not sure how comfortable I am spending the night at his parents’ house. I’ve never met them, and here I am a random girl their son is bringing into their home — to spend the night no less. What will they think of him? Of me? And
where
will I sleep?
 

“Fine. What about Gretchen?”

“She called while you were asleep. They arrived at the hotel, so no need to worry about them.”

I gather my purse and the door slams back on me as soon as I whip it open. “Damn, it’s windy.” I shove open the door again and this time succeed, stepping into a snow drift almost to my knees.
 

Kellan takes my hand to help and leads me to the front door. This place is immaculate. The house stands atop a long winding driveway that circles around. Snow covers the roof, but only flakes decorate the bricks. The door is bright yellow, a very welcoming color. Kellan doesn’t bother to knock, just opens the door and we step foot onto an aisle long rug surrounded by gorgeous wood flooring.

“Mom, Dad! I’m here!” He sets our suitcases down. “I let them know we were coming.”

“Oh, sweetheart!” A thin, tiny woman strolls in from the left and plants her hands on Kellan’s cheeks before leaning in for a quick kiss. “I’m so glad you made it!” She turns to me and grabs my hands. “You must be Kate. I’m Vicky. Welcome to our home!” She glances around. “No Macy?” Her voice pitches slightly, and I’m not sure if in surprise or happiness.

“No, Mom. She’s in Arizona until tomorrow. Since she sprained her wrist she really hasn’t come to bowling anyway. She’s all healed, but try and tell her that. She’s milking this for all she can.”

“Well, if it’s all the same, she’s not the best bowler anyway.” She winks at me. “Come, come. Take your jackets and shoes off and I’ll make you some hot cocoa. You do like cocoa, Kate?”

I’m about to answer yes, even though I’m not a fan in the least, but Kellan cuts me off. “She prefers tea, actually.”

I don’t want his mother to think I’m rude and turning down her hospitality. If I’ll be spending the night I need to make a good impression. “Hot chocolate is fine.”

“No, no. If you like tea, tea it is. I’ll ask Elsie to make some.”

“Elsie?”

“Our housekeeper.” Kellan takes my jacket. “She makes great tea.”

Housekeeper. Well, I’m out of my element here. I don’t think I’ve ever known someone who had hired help. Usually
I
was the maid. Those days are behind me, though. “Can I help?” My instinct kicks in. I’ve made tea, coffee, brunch, and huge dinners for guests at the B&B.

“Absolutely not. I do, however, make an awesome PB&J if you want to come watch me.” Kellan directs me toward the kitchen.

“Don’t spoil your dinner. We’re eating in a little bit.”

“We’ve been on the road for awhile, Mom. I’m sure Kate is starving. We haven’t eaten lunch, and dinner is still a few hours away. We’ll split a sandwich.”

Vicky shakes her head. “Fine. You two enjoy your snack. I’ll grab your dad momentarily.”

As she leaves the room he brings me into the kitchen, which I am in awe of. The counter tops are wide and granite, and every appliance is stainless steel. Not only is there a breakfast bar, but an additional island, which boasts a huge basket of mums and daisies, the bright colors booming against the beige walls. I sit by the breakfast bar.

He reaches into the cabinet and grabs the peanut butter and the bread. Elsie is on the other side of the room making the tea. “Grape jelly okay?”

“Perfect.”

He moves next to the sink window and a sliver of gray appears in his hair as sunlight peeks in.
 

“I love when the sun shines while snowing at the same time. It makes it more bearable somehow.” My favorite part is the flakes shimmering like crystals against the glimmering light.

“I thought you hated the snow.”

“I don’t mind it when I’m inside.”

“You can’t build a snowman in the house.”

“Sure you can. I can draw one.” Albeit not the best one, but I can try.

He tosses my sandwich on a plate and hands it to me. “Two different things. I want a
real
snowman.” He cuts his sandwich in half and puts the knife in the dishwasher. I’m in shock he even thought to do this. Most men don’t even know how to find the sink, let alone the dishwasher. “I love every season.”

“You’re kind of forced to, aren’t you?”

“No. But I do. My favorite is skiing in the winter and sometimes sledding like I did as a kid. I respect you don’t like the cold months, but I think you should give them another shot.”

“I’ve been giving it a shot for over thirty years. I’m good.”

“I’ll get you to change your mind.”

“I doubt that.” If I had enough guts I probably would have moved out of state to somewhere warmer. Snow is not required in my life. Christmas without the white, powdery stuff is fine by me. I think I would miss Spring, Summer, and Fall too much, though.

We eat our sandwiches while further debating what season leads as the best one, and he refuses to accept my hatred for the cold. Elsie finishes making the tea, and I’m relieved when she leaves the room. I don’t fit in here. I’m sitting where Macy should be, having a snack with her fiancé while we wait out the storm.
 

I sip my tea and yes, it
is
quite amazing. The flavor is strong and the temperature perfect. I wish I made tea this well.

“So, you like music, huh?” Kellan finally breaks the silence that has grown between us as we drink.

“Of course I like music. Are there people out there who don’t?”

“You’d be surprised.” He takes the last bite of his sandwich. “Follow me.” He struts out of the room, barely giving me a chance to catch up with him.
 

He leads me into a room just past the living room. Mahogany floors with periwinkle walls bring a powerful punch, a white grand piano in the middle of the floor. A solid burgundy chaise lounge sits across the wall in front of a large window with flowing white curtains.

“Take a seat.” He points to the chair.

A small fire crackles inside the fireplace. This is cozy and I can easily get lost in a good book, especially sitting here.
 

Kellan takes a seat at the piano bench. He begins to play, his fingers sliding across the keys. I figure out after a few notes he’s playing “Silent Night.” I sway my head as the harmony fills the room. He’s
really
good. I can’t play an instrument to save my soul. As soon as he’s done, he immediately begins a new song, and the melody is so familiar. The more he plays I begin to recognize the notes. The Charlie Brown theme song fills my ears and I picture sitting on the couch with my parents, wrapped up in a blanket, watching the Christmas special every year. A little laugh comes out as I remember this moment and before I can stop, the laughter turns into tears.

“I’m sorry. Is it
that
terrible?” He stops and rushes to my side.

“No. Your playing is wonderful.” I rest my arm on the side of the chair. “It brings back certain memories that’s all.”

“Ones you don’t want to discuss, I bet.”

“How’d you guess?” I love the Charlie Brown theme song. My dad found the vinyl for me ages ago so I could listen to it whenever I wanted. Now the record sits in the box in the back of my car collecting dust, amongst other things. I don’t know if I’ll ever play the album again. I planned on avoiding the song as best I could this season. I can throw that idea out the window.

“How long have you been playing? You’re spectacular.” I wonder why he’s not in Ned’s group, but then I don’t want to bring him up after my conversation with Gretchen.

He rubs his hands on his slacks. “Ever since I can remember, I guess. I swear my parents put me in lessons the minute I was able to sit upright.”

“That’s commitment.”

“Seems to be the only thing I can commit to in my life.”

What about Macy? He’s engaged to her.
Engaged
, as in
to be married
. That’s a commitment.
 

“You’ve never played piano?” He avoids the looming conversation.

“No. I’ve never played an instrument unless you count the recorder I was forced to play in music class in sixth grade. You don’t want to hear me squeak out ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb.’ Trust me.”

“Sure I do! I don’t own a recorder, though.”

“Shoot.” I snap my fingers in fake disappointment.

“I
do
have a piano.”

“I’ve never even touched a
keyboard.
I don’t think so, at least.” I wave my hands at him. No way is this happening.

Kellan gets up and steps back over to the piano. “Here’s your chance.”

I laugh heartily. “Yeah, right. No thanks.”

“I’m serious. I’ll teach you. Come here.”

I ponder this for a moment. I never did something like this in my entire life, but I’ll make a fool of myself. He’s aware I’ve never played before, though. He’ll take it easy on me. “Fine, but be gentle.”

He reaches his hand out for mine. “I always am.”

His fingertips tickle my palm when I accept his proposal to sit beside him. “Where do I start?”

“Believe it or not, you’re only going to play with one hand.”

“You
do
remember this is my first time, right?”

“Relax, ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ is a simple song to learn.”

I take a deep breath and let out a sigh knowing I have to trust him because I have no idea what I’m doing.

“Okay. Now what?”

“I need you to place your hands on the keys like this.” Kellan places my right hand on the keys. He strokes each finger as he rests it on an individual white bar. “This is your first, second, third, fourth, and fifth finger.”

“Thank you. I had no idea.”

“I’m not above disciplining a sassy student.” He scolds me. I silently wonder what he would do to me. “They also are C, D, E, F, and G.”

I nod. “Makes sense.” I’m watching his hands, those long fingers, mentally placing them all over my body. Inside I slap myself. I can’t think like this.

“Good. Now you’re only going to use these five fingers for the song. Your hands shouldn’t move across the keys at all except for the five you’re using.” I have to hold back from interlocking our fingers when he rests his hand on mine. “I’ll do it with you.”

I didn’t even press the key down and already he expects me to play? I play along and press each of my fingers down as he names each finger. “Third, second, first, second, third, third, third.”

“That was ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb!’” I throw my hands up and give him a hug. “I can’t believe I just did that!”

“You’re a natural,” he says and I pull away once I realize I still have my arms wrapped around him.

“Excellent job, Kate. You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for. For a first timer, not too bad.”

“Thanks.” I turn and his face is inches from mine. Those lips look so soft and they’re begging to be kissed. His breath smells of chocolate and mint, and he starts to lean in.
Holy crap, this is happening
. I part my lips as I prepare for what’s about to happen. It’s been years since I felt another man’s lips on mine, and as nervous as I am, I’m ready.

“Kellan!” His mom waltzes into the room, her heels clicking against the wood floor and cuts off our almost perfect moment. “Honey, dinner is ready.” She stops when she sees us sitting with our bodies facing each other. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“No, Mom. It’s fine. I was just teaching Kate how to play piano.”

“Are you sure? I can come back.”

“No. We’ll go eat if dinner’s ready. Meet you in the dining room, okay?”

“Don’t be too long.”

As his mom leaves, he claps his hands together. “Okay, so that was today’s lesson. Do you like roast beef? Our chef makes one hell of a roast beef.”

“I do. Can’t wait.”

If the piano room amazed me, it doesn’t compare to the exquisite set up in the dining room. Light music plays through speakers, creating the perfect background noise for the evening. The long table fits five on each side and one at the heads. An intricate gold tablecloth covers the table, a dark green plate at every setting, with a deep maroon cloth napkin wrapped around silverware. A basket of sunflowers and dahlias is in the center of the table. I’m surprised they aren’t fresh flowers but I’m sure even if fake, they are top quality. A small vine twists around the place settings on the table like a maze, tiny pumpkins scattered throughout. Dinner candles rise from heavy pewter holders. This is a Pinterest setup worthy of a repin.

“Where’s everyone sitting?” I ask Kellan, not sure where I fit into the equation.

His mom jumps in. “It’s only the four of us, so I thought we’d keep things as intimate as possible and put you two on this side and Kellan’s dad and me on the other.” She points to the appropriate seats and her manicured nails don’t go unnoticed.

That seems simple enough, and makes a lot of sense. Kellan pulls my chair out for me, taking me by surprise. Guys don’t do that too often anymore. Now that I think about it, I don’t recall Ned doing so on either of our dates. “Thank you.” His hand brushes my hair as I sit down and I pretend he does this on purpose.