tanned arms across a white novelty T-shirt. “Your conscience is safe. When my Dad died, he left me some money. If I’m careful, I can get by on the interest. It drives my mother crazy.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m her only child, her baby boy.” He smiled at the admission, and Gretchen could well imagine his mother and any other woman succumbing to those blue eyes and sweet smile. “She wants me to have everything.”
“Did you have everything growing up?”
“Everything I needed, I guess, and lots of extras. Life was good.” His athletic shoulders lifted. “Still is.”
Gretchen envied the way he said that. He saw the deepest despair of humanity and could still think life was good. She’d long since lost that naiveté.
“Your mother lives in Baton Rouge, right?” Gretchen wondered what a chat with the mother might turn up.
“Yeah. I want her to move down here with me, but she won’t. She’s too busy. I think the entire city would close up if she left town.” Pride and love lit his face. “Mom’s in her seventies, but says she has to stay in Baton Rouge to take care of the old people.”
Gretchen allowed a smile. “Sounds like a great lady. Is she the one who got you started playing the sax?”
“I wish I could say yes, but that would be a lie.” He shifted in his chair and gave a self-conscious laugh. “I learned to play for a shallow, totally male reason.”
“To impress some girl?” she guessed.
He grimaced. “Please don’t put that in your story.”
She laughed. “Your secret is safe with me.”
But she was curious about the kind of girl who could interest Ian that much.
“Was she impressed?”
“’Fraid not. She went for the drummer instead.”
“Fickle females.”
“My exact response. Lost the girl. Got the saxophone. A good trade if you ask me.”
“It’s a beautiful horn. I’ve never seen one quite like it.”
He hoisted the sax, handling the gleaming brass instrument with obvious affection. “A vintage Selmer. Dad bought it for me. I never dreamed he’d spend that kind of money.”
“Special occasion?”
His face took on a wistful look. “My sixteenth birthday.”
“Most boys that age would ask for a car.”
Ian’s eyes twinkled. “He wouldn’t have bought that. Dad was old-school. He said, ‘If you’re responsibleenough to drive a car, you’re responsible enough to hold a job and pay for it.’”
“Did you?”
“You’ve seen what I drive. What do you think?”
Gretchen giggled. His sense of humor got to her. “I’m sure that old van is not the only vehicle you’ve ever had.”
No doubt, a good-looking guy with his charisma had driven the hottest car on campus and dated the prettiest girls.
“You think?” He arched an eyebrow and raised the saxophone to his lips. “What’s your pleasure, ma’am?”
You.
The thought came out of nowhere, startling and unwanted. Her heart leaped. She fought down a telling blush and rising panic.
“Something sweet and lazy,” she managed to say. Any distraction to help me get my head under control.
Ian pressed the mouthpiece to his lips and began to play. Thank goodness he couldn’t read minds. She was having some serious trouble with hers at the moment.
Her gaze strayed to his mouth, pursed against the saxophone. What would it be like to have those lips pressed against hers?
She slammed her eyelids shut and leaned back in the chair. This nonsense needed to stop here and now.
The flowers from the courtyard were in full bloom. The scent of honeysuckle drifted up to the balcony.
Music vibrated on the air, gentle and tender as first love.
She was single. So was he.
Her stomach flip-flopped. There she went again. Oh, boy.
This sudden obsession with Ian as a man was all Mike’s fault. He never should have asked her if she was interested in the preacher instead of the series.
Annoyed and flustered, Gretchen pushed out of her chair and went to the balcony’s wrought-iron railing.
The music
“Why?”
“Because I’m her only child, her baby boy.” He smiled at the admission, and Gretchen could well imagine his mother and any other woman succumbing to those blue eyes and sweet smile. “She wants me to have everything.”
“Did you have everything growing up?”
“Everything I needed, I guess, and lots of extras. Life was good.” His athletic shoulders lifted. “Still is.”
Gretchen envied the way he said that. He saw the deepest despair of humanity and could still think life was good. She’d long since lost that naiveté.
“Your mother lives in Baton Rouge, right?” Gretchen wondered what a chat with the mother might turn up.
“Yeah. I want her to move down here with me, but she won’t. She’s too busy. I think the entire city would close up if she left town.” Pride and love lit his face. “Mom’s in her seventies, but says she has to stay in Baton Rouge to take care of the old people.”
Gretchen allowed a smile. “Sounds like a great lady. Is she the one who got you started playing the sax?”
“I wish I could say yes, but that would be a lie.” He shifted in his chair and gave a self-conscious laugh. “I learned to play for a shallow, totally male reason.”
“To impress some girl?” she guessed.
He grimaced. “Please don’t put that in your story.”
She laughed. “Your secret is safe with me.”
But she was curious about the kind of girl who could interest Ian that much.
“Was she impressed?”
“’Fraid not. She went for the drummer instead.”
“Fickle females.”
“My exact response. Lost the girl. Got the saxophone. A good trade if you ask me.”
“It’s a beautiful horn. I’ve never seen one quite like it.”
He hoisted the sax, handling the gleaming brass instrument with obvious affection. “A vintage Selmer. Dad bought it for me. I never dreamed he’d spend that kind of money.”
“Special occasion?”
His face took on a wistful look. “My sixteenth birthday.”
“Most boys that age would ask for a car.”
Ian’s eyes twinkled. “He wouldn’t have bought that. Dad was old-school. He said, ‘If you’re responsibleenough to drive a car, you’re responsible enough to hold a job and pay for it.’”
“Did you?”
“You’ve seen what I drive. What do you think?”
Gretchen giggled. His sense of humor got to her. “I’m sure that old van is not the only vehicle you’ve ever had.”
No doubt, a good-looking guy with his charisma had driven the hottest car on campus and dated the prettiest girls.
“You think?” He arched an eyebrow and raised the saxophone to his lips. “What’s your pleasure, ma’am?”
You.
The thought came out of nowhere, startling and unwanted. Her heart leaped. She fought down a telling blush and rising panic.
“Something sweet and lazy,” she managed to say. Any distraction to help me get my head under control.
Ian pressed the mouthpiece to his lips and began to play. Thank goodness he couldn’t read minds. She was having some serious trouble with hers at the moment.
Her gaze strayed to his mouth, pursed against the saxophone. What would it be like to have those lips pressed against hers?
She slammed her eyelids shut and leaned back in the chair. This nonsense needed to stop here and now.
The flowers from the courtyard were in full bloom. The scent of honeysuckle drifted up to the balcony.
Music vibrated on the air, gentle and tender as first love.
She was single. So was he.
Her stomach flip-flopped. There she went again. Oh, boy.
This sudden obsession with Ian as a man was all Mike’s fault. He never should have asked her if she was interested in the preacher instead of the series.
Annoyed and flustered, Gretchen pushed out of her chair and went to the balcony’s wrought-iron railing.
The music
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