doesn’t mean it’s not true.” He certainly looked tough enough to stand for what was right and good.
Did her heart sigh, just a little? She couldn’t believe it. Of course, her heart was completely unaffected. Or was she clinging firmly to denial? She took a sip of iced tea, letting its sweet coolness reassure her. No, it was merely respect she felt for her new friend and nothing more.
Chapter Four
I n the second movement of the first Brandenburg Concerto, she heard a faint rustle as the man seated beside her leaned close.
“Hand me your phone.” His whisper was nearly nonexistent. His hand shot out, palm up.
“Is that an order, soldier?”
“Absolutely.” That single word held a note of humor. “Do it, or it’s the brig for you.”
“Tempting.” She handed the phone over with a smile. The question remained, what was he going to do with it? She had to lean a little closer to find out, didn’t she? It wasn’t as if she wanted to be nearer to him. It was a matter of necessity. She had to know what he was looking up on her phone, right?
“Interesting.” He began hitting buttons. Was he putting in his phone number? Looked like it. When he pressed the phone into her hand, it was warm from his touch.
Something down deep in her spirit shivered, but she denied that, too. Apparently, she was very adept atdenial. Who knew? While she was at it, she decided to deny the pain beating through her ankle and the uncomfortable swelling beneath the cast.
She tucked the phone into her purse and tried to focus on the lilt of the piccolo. But what was she aware of? Pierce as he covertly tugged his cell from his pocket, flipped it open and quietly tapped at the keys.
She was so not surprised when her purse began to vibrate silently. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who had texted her. She bent for her phone, and when she saw the screen and his message there, she could imagine the deep intonation of his words and the warmth of his humor.
“Is it me, or is this music boring?” he’d typed.
“It’s U,” she typed in reply.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him grinning. Her phone quaked and there was his message on the screen. “I’d rather be yawning.”
“Sure. Considering the way U ski.” She well remembered her first impression of him, the blur streaking by whooping out “banzai.” Hard to imagine then that she would be sitting with him listening to a symphony. She hit Send.
He grinned at her message and texted back. “I’m not the skier with the broken ankle.”
“True.” How could she deny that one? “It’s nice that U R enduring this.”
“Giselle likes this stuff. Boggling.” His reply came quick, right in time with the crescendo of the music.
“She is a music major.” Lexie glanced over at the girl sitting on Pierce’s other side. Giselle was scowling at him, as if she couldn’t take him anywhere, but it was a loving look more than a censuring one. That fondness said more than anything about the man beside her.
“She’s showing me what I’m missing.” His words flashed on her screen. “Not working.”
“Classical music isn’t your thing?” she asked, expecting a certain reaction as she sent it.
His muffled snort of laughter made her smile.
“Not even close. Is it yours?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s a great luv of mine.” It was only the truth.
“R U kidding?” He looked shocked.
“No. Half the music on my iPod is classical.” Part of her was afraid that she was a geek for confessing it. Then again, maybe it was good he knew this about her right up front. It was proof they could never be more than friends. She kept typing. “U R never speaking to me again, right?”
“Wrong.” His answer was swift, as if there wasn’t a moment of debate. “It’s not so bad. Or U.”
“Neither R U.” She smiled inside as she tapped at the tiny keys. Those three words stared back at her on the screen. Did she send them?
“We’re free.” Pierce peered over