“Hey, I need to let you go. Preston just walked in, and we’re heading over to his parents’ house. It’s his mom’s birthday.”
Before Tory could respond, the doorbell rang. “Good timing. Duncan’s at the door anyway.”
At least she assumed it was him. She wasn’t expecting anyone else tonight. If Grant knew her address, she’d worry it was him since he was in town, but he didn’t have that. Thank goodness. “Have fun and say hello to Preston for me.”
“Will do.”
When she opened the door a moment later, Tory’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the black guitar case slung over Duncan’s right shoulder. She’d heard of people bringing dessert or maybe flowers when they visited someone. She’d never heard of anyone bringing a guitar with them.
“You brought a guitar with you?” The evidence was right in front of her, so it was a silly question, but she asked it anyway.
“The other night I promised you a show when I came over so that I didn’t put you to sleep again.” The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice. “I couldn’t find my old magic set, so I brought my guitar instead.”
She’d forgotten all about the comment until now. “I guess it’s a good thing you play the guitar and not the piano. You would’ve had a difficult time getting one up here on your own.”
“Oh, I play that too. It was the first instrument I learned. But I don’t own one. I also play the saxophone, but it’s in my parents’ basement. Or it used to be. They might have gotten rid of it by now.”
“I’m impressed. I gave up piano lessons after a year and never tried anything else.” She hadn’t wanted to take them in the first place. Instead, she’d had her heart set on learning to play the drums after seeing an old clip of Led Zeppelin in concert.
“Playing music isn’t for everyone,” Duncan said, following her into the kitchen.
“For me, it was more a matter of it not being the instrument I wanted to learn.”
“What did you want to play?”
“The drums. Mom had other ideas. She didn’t think it was an instrument a girl should be playing. But she let my brother try it.”
“It’s never too late to learn.”
Tory shrugged. “True, but it would be a little embarrassing to take lessons now.” She envisioned herself in a waiting room surrounded by ten-year-old children and their parents. She didn’t want to play the drums that badly.
“If you ever change your mind, I have a friend who could teach you. He’ll even come to your house and give lessons if you don’t want to go to his studio.” While she returned to the counter, Duncan stopped near the kitchen island. “Do you need any help?”
“Nope, everything is just about ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine.”
“So, what style of music are you going to play for me tonight?” Tory asked as she poured them each a glass of iced tea. A lot of people considered it more a summer beverage, but she drank it year-round. The same was true of lemonade and hot chocolate. She would not let the temperature dictate what she drank.
“You’re going to have to wait and see.”
“More like hear,” she said, handing him a glass. “Have a seat.” She gestured toward the table before putting the iced tea away.
Much like on Sunday night, something about Duncan made her comfortable enough to joke with him in a way she couldn’t usually do with people until she got to know them well.
“That sounds like something my sister would say.”
“I like her already.”
Before joining him at the table, Tory grabbed the plate of pork chops and the two notebooks she’d left on the counter earlier. Considering what he served on Sunday, she’d planned to prepare a slightly more elaborate meal tonight, but she’d got caught up on a project she was working on and lost track of time.
“Dinner isn’t as exciting as the one you made,” she said, sitting down across from him.
“It looks good to me. And if I wasn’t here, I would’ve grabbed takeout on the way home or had something delivered. It was one of those days.”
“I had that kind of day yesterday.” It was just one of the reasons she had trouble sleeping. Rather than stare at the ceiling, she’d started her own version of twenty questions. Although in this case, it was closer to seventy-five questions. “Last night, my dinner consisted of raisin bran cereal and peanut butter toast.”
Duncan accepted the salad bowl she held toward him. “Believe me, I’ve had worse dinners than that.”