Page 56 of The Other Side of Green

Our gazes met again.

“Anyway, we are going back to the house for the wake. I know Lyra would be thankful to see you both.” I bet that stomach acid was burning him real good.

“Thank you, Luca.” Mom nodded her agreement, turning her focus slightly to the crowd of mourners standing to the side of Grams’ grave. Eva and Alex were next to Lyra, Eva whispering something in Lyra’s ear. Whatever it was she said, Lyra shook her head and then glanced briefly at me.

I had some pretty major decisions to make about what the hell I was going to do now. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to make any until I’d spoken to Lyra and got to the bottom of what was going on. Grams had gone now to find her resting place in the ground, and Lyra no longer had any excuse as to why she was pushing me away.

One thing was for sure, I wasn’t going back to Boston without her, whatever it took.

Chapter Fourteen

Lyra

“Seriously, Lyra. What the hell?”

I stared blankly at Eva, aiming for beguiling innocence.

And failed.

“Mr. Cross. Mr. Jack-I’m-So-Moody Cross is at your grandma’s funeral?” Eva’s eyes looked like they’d pop out of her head. “And not just that, you two.” She stabbed at my chest. “You played like that, again.”

Shifting back, I found myself trapped against the kitchen counter. “Come on, Eva. What were you expecting? For me to announce to everyone that I knew my teaching aide? Hell, I had enough trouble just playing. I didn’t need everyone whispering I was getting preferential treatment.”

Wrong thing to say. Her eyes narrowed.

“Was there preferential treatment?”

“Who, what?” Luca swept into the kitchen, thankfully distracting Eva from her interrogation. Well, for about thirty seconds until Raven waltzed in behind him like she owned the damn place. I growled under my breath and turned to focus on the coffee pot I was waiting to do its noisy, gurgling thing.

“Just Lyra and her secrets,” Eva said archly, and I shot her a side evil stink eye.

“Lyra, secrets? Never.”

How did he manage to look like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth? “Luca has all the secrets for both of us, don’t you Luca?” I shot back.

“Do you need help?” He ignored my jibe.

I clutched my hands to my chest. “God, I think I’m having a heart attack. Luca Lennox has offered to help in the kitchen.”

“Kiss my as—” he cut off as Pastor Clarke walked through the door. Sweet Jesus, how many people could we fit in the kitchen?

Raven giggled and pressed her palm into Luca’s back. Oddly intimate, it made my stomach twist.

“How’s the coffee?” Pastor Clarke looked at the jug expectantly.

“Coming. It would be quicker if I had some space.”

“Of course, of course.” He backed toward the door. “Come on, Luca, you need to make sure your guests are comfortable.”

Luca pulled a face, which would have been funny if the pastor’s words hadn’t jarred into my heart. Luca and I were the grown-ups now. There wasn’t anyone else to make sure the ‘guests were comfortable’, just us. Two almost grown-ups in a sea of lies and remorse.

All I could do was be thankful I wouldn’t have to see Jack again. Well, not today anyway. The raw exposure of playing alongside him in the church echoed around my head. Painful notes of a world of things wrong.

Pastor Clarke ushered Luca and his limpet hang-on Raven out of the kitchen, pulling Eva along with him and asking her how we knew one another. As the door swung shut, I could hear him say, “Flute? How beautiful. Massively underrated for jazz I think.”

I didn’t get to hear Eva’s response, or what she thought of jazz.

Jazz. Funny, I’d always hated it. Admittedly the violin didn’t have much of a role in jazz either, but I’d always hated the way folks round here thought it was the only music that existed. But then in that bar the other night with Evan and Rhian and the others, I’d felt almost proud as they’d sat and listened to some locals riff on the stage.