Read Online Love at First Note by Jenny Proctor - Free Book Online Page A

the piano player you told me about last week. This is him, right? I just wanted to make sure you had the opportunity to say hello.”
    I cringed as I heard my own voice echoing back in my head.
What do you play?
I kept my eyes on Sister Sheehan—dear, sweet, cover-blowing Sister Sheehan—but I could still see the smirk on Elliott’s face. “It’s nice of you to think of me, and I appreciate you bringing him over, but we’ve already met.”
    “Oh, well, that’s wonderful.” She turned to Elliott. “You know, Emma is a musician too. She plays the fiddle almost as well as my uncle Nesbit.”
    I tried not to wince. The fiddle? Uncle Nesbit? I couldn’t get to my Sunbeam class fast enough.
    Sister Sheehan squeezed my arm, her eyebrows dancing as she grinned. “I’ll leave you young people to it.” She shuffled out of the chapel while Elliott and I stood in awkward silence. I tried to think of something to say that might redeem me from our first encounter, but before I could open my mouth, Elliott gave me a nod and a brief “Nice to see you again,” then turned and left.
    Awesome.
    For the second week in a row, I tried and failed to focus on my lesson. I couldn’t think of anything but Elliott’s smug expression. The kids were all over the place, ignoring everything I said, and I could hardly blame them. I wasn’t making any sense. Finally we ate some animal crackers and colored some pictures, and I mentally vowed that next week we’d learn something useful. I looked at the next lesson. “I Am Thankful for Fish.” See? Perfect.
    At the end of Primary, I ducked out of church a few minutes early to avoid the crowds. And by crowds, I meant Elliott. I stopped by Maple Crescent long enough to grab my violin, then drove to my parents’ house, hoping Ava still wanted to work on her concerto. And also hoping for lunch.
    Church in Hendersonville ended an hour earlier than my Asheville ward, so my family was already home and gathered around the kitchen bar, the post-church feeding frenzy in full swing. Dad stood at the counter making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Ava hovered by the open refrigerator, sniffing her way through containers of leftovers. I left my stuff by the door and plopped onto a barstool.
    “Hi.”
    “Hey! It’s Emma!” Dad called. “Karen! Emma’s home.”
    Mom appeared in the kitchen doorway and smiled. She moved around the bar and kissed me on the forehead. “What brings you to our end of the mountains?”
    I shrugged. “Ava said she wanted to practice.”
    “Are you hungry?” Mom nudged Ava out of the way and leaned into the fridge. “Your dad made sweet pork tacos for the missionaries last night. I can warm up some leftovers if you want.”
    “That’s what
I
was looking for,” Ava said. She swung her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Is there enough for both of us?”
    “There’s enough for all of us,” Mom said, “though it doesn’t look like your father was patient enough for a taco.”
    Dad grinned through a huge bite of sandwich. “This is only my appetizer.”
    I took the containers from Mom and pulled a few plates out of the cabinet. “Thanks, Mom.”
    She moved to the window seat at the back of the kitchen while I made the tacos—a plate for each of us. Ava took hers to the living room, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my parents.
    “So.” Dad rubbed his hands together. “Have you met the rock star yet?” He sat down next to Mom and pulled a cushion into his lap, then lifted Mom’s feet onto the cushion.
    “Huh?”
    “He’s talking about Elliott Hart,” Mom said. “Have you talked to him yet?”
    “He’s in your ward, right?” Dad said.
    “He’s in her ward, but he’s also her neighbor. He lives in the same house, right across the entryway.”
    Dad’s eyebrows danced playfully. “What are the odds of that happening? When’s your first date?”
    “Go easy on her, Jake.” Mom nudged Dad in the chest with her foot.
    She was