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Found at the Jazz Club

Page 11

by Christi Snow


  Across the room, several of his cousins had been in a quiet jam session. One of them called out, “Get a room. There are minors present.” Laughter followed.

  He pulled out of the kiss, gratified at the slightly stunned expression on Emily’s face. “Oh, yeah, that’s a better reaction.” He thumbed the high color on her cheek before turning his attention to the peanut gallery in the corner. “There’s a reason we don’t let the kids come back here,” he called back.

  “Yeah, so they don’t mess with our instruments, not so you can wet yours.” More raucous laughter followed.

  Emily’s eyes glimmered with humor. “I really do like your family.”

  “Me, too...most of the time. Right now, I’m wishing they were somewhere else. Want to go back to our cabin for an afternoon nap?”

  “Yeah, I think that sounds amazing.” But she didn’t look sleepy at all. “By the way, I’m really hoping that’s a euphemism.”

  Yeah, he had it bad for this girl.

  A FEW HOURS LATER, after both a nap and a little bit of playtime with his wife, Brady and Emily walked hand in hand back to the main house for dinner.

  The snow had fallen steadily all day, but a few of the teenaged cousins had been hired to keep the walks between the cabins cleared so they didn’t have to slog through the deep snow. Brady asked, “Are you going to be up for skiing tomorrow?”

  “Hmm, yes.” She nodded. “There should be some excellent powder. I can’t wait. I know you need to get work done this week, so don’t feel like you have to entertain me. I’ll be fine.”

  The song that he’d started working on when she had joined him at the piano earlier still strummed in the back of his mind. He needed to sit down and get it on paper before it flittered away, but he didn’t want to abandon her. But she seemed to fit in well with his family earlier. “Are you serious about that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, then I might duck out on you early tonight. My cousin, Bradford, is in charge of the pizzas. It’s an assemble-your-own thing, and he’s in charge of the brick oven. If it’s okay with you, I may get my pizza to go. You can either come back to the cabin with me or hang out in the main cabin.”

  She gave him an easy smile. “Let’s play it by ear. I know you can probably concentrate better if I’m not around.”

  He blew out a sound of disbelief. “Au contraire, me amore,” he said in a cheesy, French accent. “You are my muse. You are the source of all the music in my soul right now. I could not create the melodies without you.”

  She shook her head. “You are such a goof, but luckily, you’re a lovable one.”

  His heart soared. Lovable...maybe she might just be falling for him a little bit, too.

  AS EMILY WALKED THE path toward the cabin, her belly was full of way too much delicious, brick-oven pizza and wine. Brady had left her at the main cabin about an hour and a half before.

  While she’d had fun, she’d missed him.

  She should have probably given him more time to get work done, but the wine had lowered her ability to ignore her impulses. She’d wanted to see him, so she’d headed out into the cold mountain air.

  She let herself inside the cabin quietly, not wanting to interrupt. Immediately, the most gorgeous, hope-filled, beautiful sound filled the air.

  She quietly slipped out of her wet boots and coat and crept down the hall to the music room.

  Tears filled her eyes as the music swooped and soared within the confines of the cabin. Not wanting to interrupt, she sank in the hall outside the doorway. Her heart swelled from the emotion in the music.

  She had no idea how long she sat there, before the story began to unfold in her head. Characters developed, emotional arcs evolved, and suddenly she knew what she wanted to write.

  She rushed upstairs and grabbed her travelers’ notebook she’d stored in the hopes that inspiration would strike. She just had no idea that inspiration would come from her husband. She opened and uncapped her fountain pen, and began to write.

  The love story inspired by Brady’s music.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next couple of days began to follow a pattern. They’d wake up, make love, hit the slopes for about three hours, come home and make love again, take a quick nap, and work for a few hours.

  For Brady, that meant usually working at the piano or other instrument—he could play them all—while Emily typed away on her laptop. Their work session usually resulted in another sex session since he was channeling his feelings for her into the music. Then they’d spend the evening with Brady’s family before coming back to the cabin and making love again.

  For Brady, it was sheer heaven to have Emily in his life, inspiring him, loving him, working beside him. It astonished him that she inspired his muse, and now his music had done the same for her.

  But heaven had a deadline, and as it loomed closer, the sensation of dread pooled larger and larger in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to let her go. He’d fallen in love with his wife, and he wanted to keep her. He just didn’t know how to convince her to stay.

  But he was going to try tonight. It was December twenty-eighth, and it had been one month since they’d gotten married. Tonight, he planned to wine and dine his wife and hoped to sweep her off her feet.

  If she could fall just a tiny bit in love with him, he might have a chance. There was no debating they were compatible in almost every way. But she’d been really hurt before, and he had to give her enough of his love to prove she could trust him. She could risk her heart again, and he wouldn’t break it.

  His phone buzzed with the text from Sabrina that Emily was on her way down from the main cabin. Butterflies took flight in his belly. She’d be here in just a couple of minutes.

  Sabrina had been a godsend today. He couldn’t have pulled this evening together without her. As far as Emily knew, he’d been working all afternoon. All his music writing today had been done via dictation on his phone while he’d frantically set up for tonight.

  This had to work.

  He heard Emily’s footsteps on the front porch, and he rushed to the door, flinging it open.

  Emily reared back with a laugh. “Well, hello. Did you miss me?”

  He kissed her. “Always.” He threaded his fingers through the back of her hair, relishing the scent of her, the taste of her, the pure presence of her. “But tonight, I was listening for you, because I have a surprise.”

  “A surprise?”

  He grinned. “Yep. It’s officially our one month anniversary. I thought we should celebrate.”

  She’d been grinning along with him, but when he mentioned the word “anniversary,” her face stiffened. “Brady...”

  That wasn’t a happy sounding use of his name. Nausea churned low in his stomach. “Trust me.” He ran his fingertips across the back of her neck. “It’s going to be good. Just trust me for a little bit longer.”

  She hesitated for a split moment before reluctantly nodding.

  With one more kiss brushing across the top of her forehead, he stepped back and looked her up and down. “Are you warm enough? I have a surprise for you, but it means we’re going to be outside for the next couple of hours. There’s heat, but frostbite isn’t sexy.”

  She tilted her head and laughed. “I think I’m okay. Walking back and forth between here and the main cabin has taught me to put on layers. So, where are we headed?”

  “That, my dear, is the surprise. Come with me. Your chariot awaits.” He pulled her out of the cabin and around to the side where he’d parked the snowmobile.

  He held a hand to help her get onto the two-man machine.

  “How have I missed that you all had these here?” she asked.

  Putting a finger to his lips, he hushed her. “It’s a closely guarded secret. Only the adults know. About eight years ago, Daniel crashed his sled and broke his arm, causing the cancellation of a very important concert. Since then, no one under the age of twenty-one is allowed on the machines and only then if t
hey are two months out from performing.” He shook his head forlornly. “In other words, no one ever gets to ride them.”

  Emily laughed. “No way.”

  “I know.” The cancellation of that concert had cost a pretty penny and had really messed up a promoter’s schedule. When it came to the family music business, things were serious.

  “Make sure you hold on, so Mom doesn’t extend the ban even more.” He climbed on in front of her in between her thighs. She wrapped her arms around him, and he tried to focus on how to drive the machine instead of the arousing sensation of her breasts pressed into his back.

  Five minutes later, he rounded the bend, and Emily stiffened behind him. He bit back a grin when she gasped over the sound of the snowmobile.

  He parked, turned the machine off, and got off so he could offer his hand to help her.

  She didn’t even look at him as she took in the decorated meadow beside the frozen pond. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide, lit with excitement. “How...how did you do all this? It’s gorgeous.”

  He’d transformed the picnic area that the family used in the summer for barbeques into a fairy land for her. Sabrina and he had lined the oversized gazebo with twinkle lights. A big gas fire pit roared with flames in the center of it. The small pond had frozen over, and he’d hired someone to clear the ice so they could skate on it. They’d positioned large pillar candles around the edges of it so that the dancing light sparkled along the ice and snow.

  “I had a little bit of help, but I’m glad you like it.” Following the trail of candles lining the path, he drew her over to the edge of the ice and urged her down on a small bench. “You said you know how to skate, right?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly.

  “Trust me.” He picked up a box from under the bench and handed it to her. “Open it.”

  Her eyes sparkled as she flipped open the top of the box and squealed in excitement. The box held white ice skates with big, fluffy blue pom poms attached to the laces.

  “They even have pom-poms.” Her voice sounded watery. “I always wanted skates with pom poms.”

  He grinned at her. “They’re the color of your eyes, so I had to buy them.”

  Those gorgeous blue eyes filled with tears. “Aww, this is just the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She began to rip at the laces on her hiking boots. “You have a pair, too, right? I’m not doing this alone.”

  “I do, but you aren’t allowed to laugh when I bust my ass. It’s been years since I’ve skated.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “What?” Brady asked. “Are you some sort of pro?”

  She’d already finished lacing her skates and she took off across the ice with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Something like that.” Then she spun into the air and did a fancy jump that looked like something he’d seen on the Olympics on TV.

  An hour later, Brady was skated out, and his abs hurt from how much he’d laughed at Emily’s antics to keep him upright on the ice.

  He made a T with his hands. “Timeout. We need to stop before I can’t move the rest of the night.” Besides, they hadn’t gotten to take advantage of the two-person chaise lounge he’d set up in the gazebo by the fire pit. “I have more plans for you, and I don’t want you to be too worn out.”

  She shook her head. “Not even possible. When I was training—many moons ago—I would skate for eight hours at a time. But I’m open to warming up, especially if it involves that big ole chair over there.” She glanced over at the double chaise lounger that had been covered with blankets and pillows. “It looks very romantic.”

  “That was the hope. Come on.” He’d been watching her ass and thighs flex in her tight jeans as she skated for an hour. He was ready to wrap those legs around his waist and show her just how good they could be together.

  He led her over to the gazebo, happy for the gas fire pit because he hadn’t had to worry about the fire burning out. While she snuggled under the blankets, he poured them both a glass of hot, spiced wine and then snuggled in beside her.

  The chaise lay back in a semi-reclined position, and they lay facing one another.

  He clinked his glass with hers. “Thank you for the best month of my life, Emily Gresham.”

  Her gaze flew to his.

  “I know you didn’t change your last name, but allow me a night of feeling proprietary. It goes back to the caveman in me. I like the idea that you’re mine.” He took a deep breath. “In fact, I really think I’d like to keep you.”

  She stopped breathing and searched his expression. She wasn’t shutting him down, so he pressed on.

  “We may not have planned for this, but I’m falling in love with you, Emily. I can see spending the next fifty years with you in my life.” He leaned over and claimed her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, pushing all his emotion into the caress.

  Minutes later, she pulled away. Tears filled her eyes. “Brady, I don’t think—”

  “I know you’ve been hurt and no one could blame you for not trusting this thing between us,” he rushed to say. “All I’m asking is that you give me time. Just more time. I’m not ready for us to end, and I think you feel the same. What we have between us is good. Tell me you feel it, too.”

  A tear fell over her lashes and rolled down her cheek.

  He brushed it off with his thumb and kissed the wet trail on her cheek. “Please, Em. Just a bit more time.”

  She nodded, and his heart soared.

  “Okay,” she said with a small, happy smile. “Just because I’m never able to tell you no. Dammit, Brady, this wasn’t what I’d planned but okay. We can try for a while.”

  Relief flooded through him, sending his blood flowing again. He’d been pretty sure she would turn him down. Damn, he loved her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emily hummed to herself the next afternoon as she helped Brady’s mom, Lily, make pies in the kitchen at the main house. Brady and a few of his cousins had gone up the mountain to go skiing on the fresh powder. After ice skating the night before and then their extra exercise afterward, Emily gladly bowed out to let her muscles rest.

  Lily smiled as she spread flour on the piece of marble. “You’re in a good mood today. I’m guessing Brady’s surprise was a good one last night?”

  “It was. Did you help him with it?”

  Lily gave her a small smile and shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said with a small giggle. “From what I understand, the scene was set for seduction. Brady is too much of a good boy to ever let his mother anywhere near that. He tries to keep me thinking he lives like a priest. I let him keep his little fantasies. It’s easier for both of us that way.”

  Emily blushed. She wasn’t exactly comfortable with Brady’s mom thinking about him being sexual, either. It was time for a change of subject.

  She looked around the counters at all the apples that Brady’s mom planned to make into homemade apple pies. “Brady told me you were famous in your own right. One of the world’s premiere opera singers?”

  Lily laughed. “Once upon a time, yes, but now I’m just Lily Gresham.”

  “So, how do you go from world-famous opera singer to the family apple pie baker?”

  “Ah, that’s thanks to my German grandmother. She had me beside her in the kitchen from the time I was tall enough to stand on a chair and help.” Lily rolled the piecrust dough forming it in the shape of a circle. “You couldn’t grow up in her household without knowing how to make the famous Zimmermann apple pie.”

  Family traditions. In her family they didn’t have those. If she stayed with Brady she could share all this...the family, the traditions, the pure togetherness and fun that came from a family that truly loved and supported one another.

  Not that she would ever use Brady for his family, but they sure were a nice perk.

  Lily winked at Emily. “I’m not going to show you the secret today, because I’ve taught Brady. You need to have him make you the pies. When he shows you the
family secret, you’ll know it’s forever.”

  Forever. They certainly weren’t committed to forever yet, but Brady wanted more. Honestly, so did Emily. She ignored that little voice in her head telling her to run, run as fast and as far as possible... In the last month, it had become apparent that Brady was so different from Trace. Already, he meant so much more to her than her third husband had.

  Trace had always kept her a bit apart from him. He’d never shared his work with her although she loved football.

  Brady didn’t do that. Every night this week, they’d worked together, sharing in the creative process. It had been incredible and tightened the bond between them more than she ever thought possible. In fact, as they became closer and closer, she felt like she’d never known another human being as well as she did him. Her divorce from Trace had been devastating. If and when things fell apart with Brady, she might not recover.

  A small wail filled the silence in the room.

  Lily lifted her dough-covered hands. “Emily, can you pick up Barrett? He’s probably about ready for a bottle.”

  Emily eyed the baby bassinet in the corner like it held a bomb as Barrett’s cries grew more frantic.

  “Emily?”

  “Um, yeah, sure.” Her stomach fluttered as she cleaned her hands on the towel and walked over to the tiny baby bed. She’d managed to avoid the babies so far this week, but her luck had obviously run out.

  The little bundle squirmed, his little face red with anger. “Shh, little one. It’s okay,” she cooed as she picked him up, carefully supporting his head. At only five weeks old, he was the tiniest of the babies at the compound this weekend. His mother, one of Brady’s many cousins, had been nervous about leaving him, but Lily had convinced her to go.

  Emily cradled Barrett to her chest, and he immediately calmed, staring up at her with tear-filled, bright-blue eyes. Her heart clutched at the sight of the beautiful, tiny human. “Hello, sweetness. Are you hungry? You probably need a new diaper first, don’t you?”

 

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