Of course she must have gotten some voice training while at Juilliard. Now, with some distance from the actual event, he could see the truth of it. In his desire to know more he let himself get pissy over something totally stupid, which had cascaded into something worse because that reporter had been waiting for just such a moment.
His stupid overreaction had led to the spiral of insanity that had blown up in their faces. Christ, what a pair they were.
He’d seen her face when the reporter spoke to Erin. Had heard her tortured, whispered apology and watched her run away. She didn’t run. She stood and fought when she thought she was right. She was like a little bulldog, she simply didn’t let go until she won.
But tonight she’d run. She’d refused to speak to him and had shut down. And it was partly his fault. Okay, mainly his fault, though after listening to her on her doorstep, he could tell she held herself responsible. Which was his fault too.
No. Gillian Forrester was the one. She was his lid and he’d f**ked it up but he’d not go down without a fight. He’d win her back and show her they could weather any storm.
Because there was love between them. He did have trust issues and she hit on an important point. His circle was his comfort zone. She didn’t fit in it the way everyone else did and he’d looked for that to be a problem instead of just a process.
That he could see and hear the difference between how she’d been with him earlier, and the last months told him she had been sharing herself with him on her own terms. God, that she’d cried in front of him was major.
He had his own walls. They weren’t as straightforward as hers were. He loved her, though. He knew it as much as he knew he loved Miles and his siblings. She was his.
So he’d be back in the morning and they’d hash this out and they’d be fine. In the meantime since there was no way he’d be sleeping, he may as well work on some music.
23
Gillian shuffled through the kitchen as Miles zoomed around. She’d called and begged Mary not to come over for crepes. She had to hold herself together for Miles, and if anyone showed her any pity or kindness just then, she’d lose what composure she’d managed to find at about five thirty that morning.
There was a knock on the door, but she was on the phone with a client so Miles rushed off, Claypool weaving through his legs like a fluffy road hazard.
Adrian.
She heard his voice and then Miles’s surprised, happy response. It made her smile even as it broke her heart. She used to be part of that and now she wasn’t.
She continued speaking, focused on her client and shutting out the beautifully sad sound of Adrian’s walk through her house. She’d gotten used to it.
“Mum’s on the phone,” Miles explained when they came through.
She kept her back turned and headed to her office, shutting her door.
But that small peace was cut short when Miles barged in five minutes later, well after she’d hung up.
“Mum! Dad brought doughnuts and bear claws and stuff. Come on. I saved you one of those goopy lemon ones you like.”
“No really, Miles, I can’t. I have work to do today.”
She looked up to find Adrian in her doorway looking a little rough. Served him right.
“Everyone needs a good breakfast. I know you tell Miles this all the time. Have some coffee. I brought you some.”
She noted the box and the cup were not from Tart. He must have known the reception he would have received. Hmpf.
“I made a pot already.” How dare he use the “it’s good for you” against her.
“Come on, Mum.” Miles grinned.
“Fine. For a few minutes, and then you and your dad should go to his house for a while. Or away for the afternoon. Whatever.”
She followed Miles out, avoiding Adrian’s gaze and his proffered cup of traitor coffee. She’d have to hide those cups deep in the recycling or Jules would have her head if she saw them.
The doughnut was probably quite tasty, but not just then, with everything she’d ever wanted just across from her.
Miles was seemingly unaffected by their tension as he chattered about all the fun he and his friends had had the night before and an upcoming band concert at school.
“Be sure to reserve enough tickets for everyone.” Adrian spoke and that drawl of his caressed her skin, made her crazy to touch him so much she glared at him just for good measure.
But he was looking at her and caught her gaze. One corner of his mouth quirked up and she had to lick her lips. Which only made his smile bigger. The cad.
“Do you know what? We should jam while I’m here. I’ve been working on something new and it’ll help if you two noodle around with me.”
“Really?” Miles’s eyes widened at the suggestion. “That would be awesome. Like how you and Aunt Erin do it?” “Yeah. Only she and I have been making music together since I was eleven, so she and I have a distinct sort of rhythm. I thought it would be good to change it up with other people I trust and love.”
She made to leave. How dare the man, really? Last night it was some vast conspiracy that she could sing and today he wanted to jam with her?
He preferred the fire in her gaze to the numbness he’d gotten earlier. Preferred anger to sadness. Fire he could deal with. Fire was something they did well together.
He’d been sort of annoyed at first to walk in and see her chatting on the phone as if nothing had happened. She’d turned her back and left the room even. But when he and Miles had interrupted her, he saw how wrong he’d been. Far from being unaffected, she had dark circles under her eyes to match his own, he’d bet.
His stupid overreaction had led to the spiral of insanity that had blown up in their faces. Christ, what a pair they were.
He’d seen her face when the reporter spoke to Erin. Had heard her tortured, whispered apology and watched her run away. She didn’t run. She stood and fought when she thought she was right. She was like a little bulldog, she simply didn’t let go until she won.
But tonight she’d run. She’d refused to speak to him and had shut down. And it was partly his fault. Okay, mainly his fault, though after listening to her on her doorstep, he could tell she held herself responsible. Which was his fault too.
No. Gillian Forrester was the one. She was his lid and he’d f**ked it up but he’d not go down without a fight. He’d win her back and show her they could weather any storm.
Because there was love between them. He did have trust issues and she hit on an important point. His circle was his comfort zone. She didn’t fit in it the way everyone else did and he’d looked for that to be a problem instead of just a process.
That he could see and hear the difference between how she’d been with him earlier, and the last months told him she had been sharing herself with him on her own terms. God, that she’d cried in front of him was major.
He had his own walls. They weren’t as straightforward as hers were. He loved her, though. He knew it as much as he knew he loved Miles and his siblings. She was his.
So he’d be back in the morning and they’d hash this out and they’d be fine. In the meantime since there was no way he’d be sleeping, he may as well work on some music.
23
Gillian shuffled through the kitchen as Miles zoomed around. She’d called and begged Mary not to come over for crepes. She had to hold herself together for Miles, and if anyone showed her any pity or kindness just then, she’d lose what composure she’d managed to find at about five thirty that morning.
There was a knock on the door, but she was on the phone with a client so Miles rushed off, Claypool weaving through his legs like a fluffy road hazard.
Adrian.
She heard his voice and then Miles’s surprised, happy response. It made her smile even as it broke her heart. She used to be part of that and now she wasn’t.
She continued speaking, focused on her client and shutting out the beautifully sad sound of Adrian’s walk through her house. She’d gotten used to it.
“Mum’s on the phone,” Miles explained when they came through.
She kept her back turned and headed to her office, shutting her door.
But that small peace was cut short when Miles barged in five minutes later, well after she’d hung up.
“Mum! Dad brought doughnuts and bear claws and stuff. Come on. I saved you one of those goopy lemon ones you like.”
“No really, Miles, I can’t. I have work to do today.”
She looked up to find Adrian in her doorway looking a little rough. Served him right.
“Everyone needs a good breakfast. I know you tell Miles this all the time. Have some coffee. I brought you some.”
She noted the box and the cup were not from Tart. He must have known the reception he would have received. Hmpf.
“I made a pot already.” How dare he use the “it’s good for you” against her.
“Come on, Mum.” Miles grinned.
“Fine. For a few minutes, and then you and your dad should go to his house for a while. Or away for the afternoon. Whatever.”
She followed Miles out, avoiding Adrian’s gaze and his proffered cup of traitor coffee. She’d have to hide those cups deep in the recycling or Jules would have her head if she saw them.
The doughnut was probably quite tasty, but not just then, with everything she’d ever wanted just across from her.
Miles was seemingly unaffected by their tension as he chattered about all the fun he and his friends had had the night before and an upcoming band concert at school.
“Be sure to reserve enough tickets for everyone.” Adrian spoke and that drawl of his caressed her skin, made her crazy to touch him so much she glared at him just for good measure.
But he was looking at her and caught her gaze. One corner of his mouth quirked up and she had to lick her lips. Which only made his smile bigger. The cad.
“Do you know what? We should jam while I’m here. I’ve been working on something new and it’ll help if you two noodle around with me.”
“Really?” Miles’s eyes widened at the suggestion. “That would be awesome. Like how you and Aunt Erin do it?” “Yeah. Only she and I have been making music together since I was eleven, so she and I have a distinct sort of rhythm. I thought it would be good to change it up with other people I trust and love.”
She made to leave. How dare the man, really? Last night it was some vast conspiracy that she could sing and today he wanted to jam with her?
He preferred the fire in her gaze to the numbness he’d gotten earlier. Preferred anger to sadness. Fire he could deal with. Fire was something they did well together.
He’d been sort of annoyed at first to walk in and see her chatting on the phone as if nothing had happened. She’d turned her back and left the room even. But when he and Miles had interrupted her, he saw how wrong he’d been. Far from being unaffected, she had dark circles under her eyes to match his own, he’d bet.
