Scars Like Ours | Red View Romance #2

🍂 Fourteen

As Annie walked into Samson's Market, mindlessly pushing the grocery cart in front of her as her thoughts drifted to Cliff, she had to admit the obvious: the plan wasn't working.

She did what she was supposed to--she spoke to Cliff the same way she would to Jack, Dawson, or Adam (as best as she could manage, anyway), she mustered up all her confidence to give him a haircut, and even gave him a compliment.

Of course, telling him he looked good with his hair long had been a slip of the tongue, but she'd done it nonetheless.

And for all my efforts, what do I get? She sighed as she placed a bag of Bartlett pears into her cart and moved towards the self-serve salad bar for that night's dinner. Nothing but a quickened pulse and butterflies in my stomach.

She was still so attracted to him--maybe even more so after the talk they'd had while she busied herself with his hair. That frustratingly soft hair. Those perfect, subtle, sexy waves--

Her cart crashed into the metal salad bar with a loud clang, drawing stares from just about everyone in the produce department. As her face went hot she straightened her cart and kept her head down, grabbing a plastic container and reaching for the tongs in the romaine mix. What was wrong with her? So distracted by a man's hair that she was having vehicular accidents in the grocery store.

Getting to know him was supposed to make her fall out of this infatuation. And when he'd refused her at first, she thought it might actually work. Then he'd gone and apologized for it, and had just been so... sweet.

By the time she got to the orchard the next day, camera in hand as she stepped out of her car into the foggy morning, she was still thinking about it. She waved to Adam through the open doors of the shop, then continued around the side of the building to head up the long dirt path to the wedding barn. Since the lights had been strung up, she was eager to take new pictures. Jack hadn't mentioned anything about it, but she figured it would be good to show potential customers the type of customizations they could make to the venue if they wanted.

Plus... the idea of stopping by for a bit and possibly running into Cliff might have been a motivator as well. But he was probably busy, she reminded herself. He seemed to have a lot on his plate, and even if he wasn't busy working, he was probably inside playing piano...

Piano! As she neared the barn, she heard the unmistakable sound and her heart quickened in response, knowing it was him. It was a ridiculous reaction that she knew she couldn't have stopped if she'd tried.

Should she leave, she wondered, give him privacy? Though she figured the answer was yes, she couldn't help noticing that one of the large wooden doors was ajar--and also couldn't help walking up to the opening to peek inside.

Cliff sat behind the glossy piano at the other end of the room, eyes shut as his hands moved, creating a melody that was delicate and ethereal with hints of whimsy that brought a smile to her face. The song filled the room, floated out into the grey day and wrapped itself around her like a blanket. God, it was every bit as beautiful as he was.

Often while painting she would listen to classical music, but she'd never heard this piece before. Of course, he no doubt had an extensive knowledge of arrangements and pieces that would put hers to shame. But she didn't get the impression that he held that knowledge with any attachment of superiority--the same went for his talent in playing. It was simply his passion--not something he used to impress or a back-pocket talent to boast about or whip out as a party trick.

Knowing he hadn't noticed her yet, she let herself stare as the music continued to wash over her. She'd wondered over the past few days if he would seem different when he played, but found that he didn't--he was still reserved, collected in his movements, and utterly focused.