Gina Wilkins - Secretly Yours

Her smile tilted ruefully. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve hit my head on it. I was beginning to think I was going to have a permanent goose egg on my forehead.”

He glanced automatically at her smooth forehead, seeing no damage there. No flaws at all, for that matter.

“Anything special you want me to do here?” she asked, her voice suddenly uncertain—as if the tension he was feeling this morning had rubbed off on her.

He shook his head. “I’m on my way out.”

He left quickly, before he could make a total fool of himself.

As he let himself into her house a short while later and inhaled the lemon-and-flower scents that he associated now with Annie, he reminded himself that the month he’d originally granted for this arrangement was over. He’d gotten quite a lot done on her house; he could quit in good conscience now. Of course, it had been kind of nice having his house cleaned regularly, his laundry done, his fridge filled with ready-to-nuke meals. And her house did need quite a few more repairs.

Maybe he would give it a couple more weeks. After that, it would probably be better if everything went back to the way it had been before.

“THAT WAS VERY GOOD, Sam,” Annie told the six-and-a-half-year-old boy on the piano bench beside her the following Monday afternoon. “You have a lot of natural talent.”

The boy seemed pleased. “I like music.”

“You still want to learn how to play the piano?”

His head bobbed affirmatively. “I want to play like John Tesh.”

His stepmother, Jamie McBride, had entered the room just in time to hear that statement. She laughed and rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sammy’s the only six-year-old in his class who would rather listen to John Tesh than the latest pop group. He saw him on TV at Christmas and he’s been playing at the piano ever since. We’ve tried to find a teacher for him, but the few local teachers were either booked up or think he’s too young to start.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Annie gave the boy a bracing smile. “I think Sam’s old enough as long he’s willing to do what it takes to learn. And that means practicing at least twenty minutes a day to start out, even longer as you progress further. Do you want to do that, Sam?”

He nodded eagerly. “I’ll practice an hour a day.”

Annie chuckled. “Eventually, you may very well practice that long, and more, but there’s no need to burn yourself out at the beginning. Would you like to play for your mom now?”

Jamie raised her eyebrows. “You learned to play something in your first lesson?”

He beamed. “Two songs. One’s called ‘Happy Hands’ and the other is ‘Buzzy Bees.’ Do you want to hear them?”

“Of course I want to hear them.”

His lower lip gripped between his teeth in concentration, Sam positioned his right hand on the keyboard, looking at Annie for confirmation that he was beginning correctly. She nodded encouragingly. The boy drew a deep breath and stared intently at the open music book in front of him as he played the very simple, four-measure melodies Annie had taught him during the past hour.

Jamie applauded enthusiastically when he finished. “Sam, that was great! I can’t wait until your dad hears you. Who’d have thought you’d be able to play the piano after your very first lesson?”

He gave her a reality-check look. “It wasn’t very hard.”

She laughed and ruffled his blond hair. “Give me a break, will you? If you’re going to take piano lessons, I reserve the right to be disgustingly proud every time you learn something new.”

Though he was smiling, Sam made a production of rolling his blue eyes. “Oh, man. This is going to be embarrassing.”

“Bet on it,” Jamie assured him cheerfully.

Annie noticed that the boy didn’t look particularly dismayed. Quite the opposite, actually.

She stood and stepped away from the piano bench. “That’s the end of our first lesson. Practice your exercises and I’ll see you next Monday after school, okay, Sam?”

He nodded, his attention already focused again on the music book in front of him. “See you, Ms. Stewart.”

Jamie motioned toward the doorway. “Would you join me in the kitchen for a cup of coffee, Annie?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

Jamie led the way through her comfortably decorated house to the kitchen. She had just filled two good-size mugs with fresh-brewed coffee when they were joined by Abbie, who was almost three.

“Juice?” she asked Jamie hopefully.

Jamie obligingly poured apple juice into a spillproof toddler cup, handed it to the blue-eyed, blond cherub, then joined Annie at the table. “Sam certainly seems to have enjoyed his first piano lesson.”

“I can tell he’s going to learn quickly. You were right, Jamie. He has a genuine affinity for the piano.”

Jamie beamed. “Of course. I know real talent when I see it.”

“Yes, I suppose you do.” Annie knew from gossip that Jamie had spent nearly ten years working as an actress in New York before moving back to Honoria almost two years ago to teach drama at the high school.

Some people had expressed surprise that the flamboyant redhead had married Trevor McBride, a conservative lawyer and widowed father of two. Having seen Jamie and Trevor together on a couple of occasions at his office, Annie had sensed the deep, loving bond between the couple that had made their differences irrelevant. And it was very obvious that Jamie was crazy about her stepchildren.

“Speaking of talent…have you ever done any acting?” Jamie asked, studying her guest in a manner that almost looked assessing.

A bit warily, Annie asked, “Not since college. Why?”

“I knew it. You were a music major—musical theater?”

“Piano, mostly, but I had a few singing roles. What—”

“Have you ever longed to be back on stage? Missed the sound of applause ringing in your ears?”

Though she couldn’t help smiling at Jamie’s whimsical questions, Annie still asked, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m involved with the Honoria Community Theater. We’ve done a couple of plays already, but now everyone wants to put on a musical for the first time. Would you be interested in trying out, maybe for a fall performance?”

Annie didn’t know if she would still be in Honoria in the fall. She hadn’t planned that far ahead. As for performing in a musical… “I don’t know, Jamie. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like that. And I’m really not sure I would have the time.”

“Think about it, okay? We’d love to have you. We’ll be holding auditions in early June.”

“I’ll think about it,” Annie promised, though her first impulse was to refuse on the spot. She’d been fairly content to live in the shadows lately; she wasn’t sure she wanted to take a chance at losing that comfortable anonymity.

“So how are things going with the repairs on your house?” Jamie asked, obligingly changing the subject. “Trevor told me he and Trent worked on your roof. Did it help? Is it still leaking?”

Surprised, Annie asked, “Did you say your husband worked on my roof?” It was the first she’d heard of it.

“You didn’t know?”

“No.” She bit her lower lip.

Now it was Jamie’s turn to look surprised. “Does that bother you?”

“A bit.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t paid him anything. The arrangement I have with his brother is that I clean his house in exchange for the repair work.”

“Trevor doesn’t want to be paid to help out a friend. And besides, you clean his offices and you’re giving Sam piano lessons.”

“But he’s paying me for both of those. I still come out in his debt.”

“So you can do him a favor sometime,” Jamie said with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it, Annie. It isn’t charity.”