Sonata by Moonlight Page 4

  ****

  Okay…Saturday morning and no time to be a lay-about. The furniture having been placed by the movers, Allison still faced myriads of boxes labeled for kitchen and bath, plus her books and music. Her entire life waited to be unpacked. If she were lucky, by Monday she could be all moved in. But before she could tackle anything, she needed coffee.

  She slipped a gourmet pod into her Keurig and waited the half-second it took to get her favorite brew. She inhaled, drawing fragrant air all the way in. Umm…that smelled so good. The stimulating aroma alone was enough to get her juices flowing.

  Before she could take her first sip, her front screen door rattled with a knock that shook the frame on its hinges. Good grief, it was early. Who on earth could that be?

  She snugged her robe to her waist and tied the sash tighter. Not dressed for company, but at this time of the day, they got what they asked for.

  Allison opened the door, and met the same brick wall as yesterday. This time she recognized the scent and the rock-hard body. Brodie Miller.

  “Hey. Can I help you? It’s a little early for the Welcome Wagon.” She grinned at the figure silhouetted by the glare of the early morning sun.

  “Hey, yourself,” his graveled voice growled, deep and oh, so sexy.

  “I’m the guy who lives across the street. Brodie Miller’s my name. Thought I’d come introduce myself and welcome you to the neighborhood. I smelled the coffee, and I just came over to—Wait a minute. I know you! You’re the girl who ran into me on the elevator. You called me by name.” He looked totally perplexed as he let his gaze lightly brush her body, the way men do when they see a pretty girl. “Do we know each other or something?”

  “Or something.” She paused. He was clueless. Had she really changed that much?

  Allison waited. And waited some more. Brodie just stood there staring, a puzzled expression on his face. She could see him mentally flipping through his memory banks, trying to place her. Was she the one he’d taken to dinner and not asked for date number two? Had she given him her number and he’d never called? Had he—God forbid—slept with her and not remembered her name? She decided to put him out of his misery.

  “You really don’t have a clue, do you, Brodie.”

  He leaned against the door frame with a bemused expression on his handsome face, and she couldn’t help admiring him. Biceps bulging, T-shirt tight across a sculpted chest, a little skin showing above the waistband of his sweats, revealing the last of an eight-pack.

  “No, I really don’t,” he flirted, an eyebrow quirked over one gorgeous emerald eye. “Other than at the VA, I don’t believe we’ve met before. Your face looks familiar, but your bod…eh…the rest of you is a welcome surprise.”

  The wolfish grin worked for her, and she puddled inside. This was the Brodie she knew and loved. He looked so cute standing there in her doorway, with a little of the kid she’d grown up with showing through.

  Taking mercy on his confusion, she shook her head from side to side in mock exasperation and relented. He was really going to be surprised when he realized she was the grown-up version of the chubby nerd who had dogged his tracks in high school.

  “I’ll just bet it is.” She barked a laugh and opened the screen door wide. “Well, come on in. Let’s get you a cup of coffee while you figure it out. I can barely move this morning after all the exercise yesterday, and it’s early enough I’m still foggy-brained.”

  Brodie followed her into the compact kitchen, and she could almost feel his gaze on her butt as she led him toward the kitchen. Too bad she didn’t look her best this morning. Her hair was a mess, and she wore no makeup, but she hadn’t expected company. Wasn’t there something about her that reminded him of her as a young girl? She knew she didn’t look the same, but really…it was almost insulting.

  “Still can’t place me?” she asked as she bent and dug out a cup, filled it with the steaming liquid, and handed it to him.

  He dragged his gaze to her face, and reached for the mug. “Sorry, neighbor. Come on, give me a hint.”

  She peered over the porcelain rim of her cup as she considered him. “I’ll give you a hint. Prom. Your senior year. I was a freshman. My brother dragged me with him because his date got sick at the last minute. You took pity on me and did my brother a favor. We danced the last dance, and when it ended you gave me my first kiss. The only kiss I’d ever had. It was magic.” Her cheeks heated, and she glanced away, embarrassed.

  He cocked his head in consternation and paused. “Lady, if I’d kissed a girl like you, I wouldn’t forget.”

  “Oh, but you did. Evidently it wasn’t as memorable for you as it was for me. If you’d wanted me that night, I’d have been yours—I was crazy about you.” She cocked her head. She couldn’t believe the confession just popped out of her mouth. Her heart stuttered as she witnessed the amazement on his face.

  He’d been blindsided. Bet it didn’t happen often—he’d always been smart, intuitive. Her lips tugged into a grin as his eyes grew wide and recognition dawned.

  Brodie plopped his cup on the countertop and stared at her in amazement. “Ally? Allison Chandler? Jesus, I don’t believe it! Brett’s sister? You don’t look anything like you did before we left for boot camp.”

  His face took on a ruddy hue. “Sorry…I didn’t mean it like it sounded.” His green gaze traveled from her hairline to her shoes.

  She almost felt bad that he was so embarrassed, but a little part of her executed a mental fist-pump. He seemed to appreciate what she looked like now. A tiny flame of heat warmed her blood.

  “Don’t worry. I get that reaction all the time. Every time I meet someone from high school, in fact.” She grimaced in good-natured exasperation. “I’m still the same old ‘Fatty Ally’ I was back then. The packaging may be different, but the woman’s the same.”

  “Yeah, but you look…I mean, you’re beautiful…” He stuttered and looked down at his shoes before meeting her gaze with a boyishly charming expression of apology on his face. “That came out wrong. I’m sorry. It’s just that the transformation is astounding. Shit. I’m gonna shut up now. I’m just digging a deeper hole. I should have guessed who you were after I heard you playing your piano last night. Damn, I can’t believe it.”

  “Just like old times, huh? I’m sorry if I disturbed you with the late night concert. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to get to a keyboard, because of the move. I can’t stand to be away from one for very long. I’m like an addict needing a fix from my music drug.” She was quick to smile. “Don’t worry about the other thing, Brodie. I forgive you. I was a bit of a late bloomer, I guess you’d say. And you were more Brett’s friend than mine. I was just the tag-along.”

  Grateful to be beyond all the hurtful teasing, her wounds had eventually healed. Kids were often cruel; it was a rite of passage. Children frequently hid their own self-esteem issues and tried to make themselves feel better by picking on someone else. She understood it, but that hadn’t made it hurt any less back then. Not for anything in this world would she be a teenager again. She’d lived with the new Allison for a while and was comfortable with her. She liked her. Oh, the sting of the teasing would never go away, but her accomplishments since those brutal years helped the bitterness disappear. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”—wasn’t that the saying? Cliché, but true.

  “Listen. Would you like some breakfast? I have an appointment with a landscaper at ten, and even the new and improved Allison gets hungry.”

  “Nah, thanks for the invite and the coffee, but I’ll get out of your hair. I really just came over to introduce myself and see if you need any help or a strong back. If you do, just holler. You know where I live,” he teased.

  With him standing in her kitchen, she could almost imagine Brett standing beside them. The three of them together. A pang of longing hit her chest. She wished he’d stay, but maybe soon they’d have a chance to get reacquainted. For now, she didn’t want to scare him away by pushing too ha
rd.

  “No problem. Hey, would you like to come for dinner…maybe this weekend? I should have the house put together by then. We could share a bottle of wine and walk down memory lane?” She crossed her fingers behind her back. “You might even enjoy my company.”

  He hesitated, then shot her a quick smile. “Baby, there’s no doubt about that. You might want to reconsider. I’m not very good company these days.”

  “All the more reason to say yes.” If he didn’t want to see her, why had he come over? It was possible Brodie was reaching out, and she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to respond. “Come on, I’m new to the neighborhood, and you’ll make me feel unwelcome if you don’t come. I’ll cook lasagna.” She pulled out all the stops. He could never resist her grandmother’s special recipe. The boys had probably eaten a ton of that delectable dish back when they were playing football. Carb loading and just plain old growing boys.

  He was weakening. That was a good sign. He’d come.

  “Saturday night. Six okay? I don’t like to eat late in the evening.” She winked. “Diet tip. Eat too much too late, and you wake up hungry as a horse the next morning.”

  Brodie laughed. “I don’t think you need to worry about diet tips any more. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. You look great, really great… It’s nice to see you again, Ally.” His voice softened, and her traitorous pulse kicked into a fast tempo. Brodie was as dangerous to her heart now as he had been in high school.

  She smiled with pleasure when he leaned down and gave her a gentle peck on the cheek. Allison inhaled his familiar citrusy fragrance. He smelled so good. She’d never forget that smell—all Brodie.

  Her heart thumped once in her chest, and a cold shot of pure adrenaline pumped through her body. He still had the power to turn her heart to mush.

  “It’s really nice to see you again, Ally Cat,” he whispered in a gravelly voice.

  Her face grew warm. One more curse from the past she hadn’t outgrown. Flustered, her words stumbled. “S-six. We can get reacquainted then.”

  He laughed under his breath, and chucked her under the chin. It was the laugh she remembered from years gone by, full of mischief and oh, so beguiling, If she wasn’t careful, he’d steal her heart all over again.

  Chapter Four

  A little after ten, the doorbell rang again. This time Allison had her clothes on and her face washed. A touch of mascara, a swipe of lip gloss, and her daily routine was done. She ignored a passing and hopeful wish that it might be Brodie, but no, it was the landscaper she’d contacted yesterday.

  One of the nurses at the hospital had recommended him. Jess Harper was a hometown boy who’d majored in Landscape Design at Auburn. She’d forgive him for his choice of school because he enjoyed a stellar reputation for design, and, according to the nurse, had the added benefit of being extremely hot. Hotness being the nurse’s main criteria, and a value-added component to the potential business arrangement.

  She opened the door and studied a guy who could have been the cover model for a romance novel. She should know; she’d read hundreds. While other girls lived out their fantasies, she read about hers and dreamed one day to meet a handsome hero of her own. The only problem was that the hero always shared the face and form of Brodie Miller. Still, this guy was serious eye candy.

  “Ms. Chandler, I’m Jess Harper. It’s really nice to meet you in person.”

  Ally gulped. Distracted by his good looks, she stood mute until he leaned down to look directly into her eyes. “Ms. Chandler?” He waved his hand in front of her face. “Your yard?”

  She shook herself back into focus. How embarrassing! “Yes. The yard. Sorry, it’s just that you’re so…”

  His handsome face turned a delicious shade of pink for a guy. “Yeah. I know. I get it all the time. Not my fault. My dad is what my sister’s friends call a hunk. I evidently inherited his DNA. It’s a curse. But believe me, there’s more to me than just a pretty face. Whatever it is you need to have done, I can do the job.” Jess laughed in a self-deprecating manner, and handed her his business card.

  “I remember your grandparents and this property,” he continued. “Always working on the plantings, made it a showplace. It was beautiful, a real work of art. Mr. Chandler set the standard high.” He gazed around the yard. “The bones and layout are still in place—it’s easy to see what he originally designed. I don’t think I can improve on that. My initial impression is that you need a restoration of his layout and new plantings to bring it back to life. Want to take a walk and fill me in on your thoughts?”

  They walked the perimeter of the property, and she told him her ideas for bringing it back to its former glory. “I want the rock walls repaired and anchored with blooming shrubs, just the way it was. Yellowbelles, hydrangeas, altheas, lots of color. As you’ve said, the yard and beds were spectacular when Grumpy and Mimi were alive, and I want it to look just the same. I have a high stress job, and when I come home at night, I want to enjoy my gardens. When I was a child this yard was my fairytale land, and I was a princess. It’s a feeling I’d like to recapture.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. Your home should be a place of fantasy and inspiration as well as relaxation. I’m impressed. Your grandfather had this place looking like a Southern Living feature, and what you’ve described is exceptional. What about the second terrace?” Jess walked up the hill toward the back of the property.

  He reached down to give her a hand, and his grasp was warm and firm. She returned his smile. It was a killer smile…genuine, full of good humor, friendly. She liked this man.

  “These fruit-bearing trees…I don’t think we can bring back the apple trees, but the peaches and plums look like they could be pruned and fertilized. We could probably save them. It will take a couple of years for them to bear fruit again, but it’ll be worth it. There are plenty for cross pollination. If they bore delicious fruit once, they should again,” he said.

  They walked over to a partially completed flagstone patio. “Do you want me to finish this? It would be a great place to hang out in the summertime. I see a stack of flagstones over at the end of the barbeque pit, enough to get the job done. All this backyard lacks is a water feature of some sort. If you’re interested, I can draw up some plans when I work on your estimate.”

  “That sounds perfect. Now, in the front I want both white and pink dogwoods, two redbud trees, and a few Japanese maples. I like lots of color. I’ll want you to lay it out for me before you plant. Keep the camellias, and the evergreens on each side of the porch, but replace the azaleas.”

  He grinned, white teeth flashing in his handsome face. “I like it when a woman knows what she wants.”

  “Do you, now?” She couldn’t help herself. He was too cute to ignore, and it was only a little harmless flirting, right? She felt a little tingle of attraction, which surprised her. That hadn’t happened in a long time—other than the incident in the elevator with Brodie and during his visit earlier that morning. She shook herself and brought her attention back to Jess Harper.

  “Yes, ma’am, I surely do. I should have your estimate ready by tomorrow. Would you care to join me for dinner? We could go over the figures…see if you’d like anything else…in the yard, I mean.” Oh, yeah. Definitely flirting.

  “Dinner sounds great,” she agreed with a grin.

  “Pick you up at seven. Now, do you want me to prepare some flower beds out front, too? Impatiens would look fantastic in the summer and bloom until first frost. The trees would provide enough shade to protect them.”

  When they had finished the walk-through, she accompanied him to his pickup, where he smiled warmly and inquired, “How is it that we don’t know each other? This town isn’t all that big.”

  “I recently moved home here to take a job at the VA Hospital downtown. I lived in D.C. for four years before that.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Now I recognize you. Your picture was in the News along with a write-up on your work with wounded veterans. I’m an idiot.
I should have made the connection right away. My parents have followed your career since you graduated Juilliard. Hometown girl makes good and all that. My mom is in the music field as well. Teaches voice at Samford University, down on Lakeshore Drive.”

  “That wouldn’t be Eleanor Harper, would it? She’s a wonderful teacher. I’ve accompanied some of her students through the years. A lovely woman, and very talented.”

  “She says the same about you.” Jess hesitated a minute, studying her with intensity. “What made you abandon your music and work at something so entirely different? The article didn’t say.” She must have shown a degree of discomfort, because he quickly jumped in. “Sorry. Not my business, I know, but I can’t help being curious.”

  She looked over his shoulder, searching for words to explain. It was hard to talk about Brett with a total stranger. Hard to talk about Brett with anyone. She’d shared with Dr. Leo, but as a general rule, she didn’t talk about her brother. Even though she’d come to terms with Brett’s death, it was still raw. It still hurt.

  What happened was a matter of public record, but not because of her. A loose-lipped investigator had leaked the story to a reporter after the coroner’s report came out. Her notoriety made it front-page news, and her brother’s story had been laid bare four years ago. Now that the media frenzy had died down, her love for her brother and her feelings about his death were private. She kept Brett and his problems locked inside her heart.

  “Long story. When do you think you could get started?” Her abrupt change of subject signaled an end to discussion of her personal life.

  Jess studied her face with an enigmatic gaze. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Ms. Chandler. I can start next week if we can come to an agreement on price.”

  She knew he hadn’t meant to be rude, and she wasn’t one to hold a grudge. He seemed like the real thing. A sweet, normal guy. She would be happy to see him again.

  “Allison?” he prompted.

  She shook her head. “Tomorrow night would be nice.” She let her smile and tone express her forgiveness.