“Play?”

“The piano. Didn’t you see it on your way in? There’s a piano against the wall to the right of the door, and, Sam, I need to get to that piano. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed playing.”

Sam couldn’t have disguised his smile if he’d tried.

She raised her arms a second time so Sam would take the hint and lift her off the bed. Asking him twice wasn’t necessary. Other than holding her hand a few times and that one kiss, he hadn’t held or touched her. Sam was willing to admit these were unusual circumstances. Never in all his thirty-six years had he spent this much time with a woman and have their relationship be completely innocent. He had to admit he’d given a lot of thought to what it would be like to have her in his bed. Being a healthy male, it was only natural for his mind to wander in that direction.

Lifting her from the bed, he was surprised by how light she was. He’d carted tools heavier than this woman. Her arms automatically went around his neck as he held on to her, bride-style.

She smelled like roses and he had to assume it was her perfume. He resisted the urge to bury his face in her neck and breathe in the scent of her. Having her this close was everything he’d imagined. More. His heart beat at a furious pace when her fingers tangled with the hair at the back of his head. He swallowed a groan when her hands rested against the nape of his neck. This small intimacy was enough to nearly undo him. He wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to him, and he doubted she did.

Now that she was in his arms, Sam didn’t move. He remained immobile, standing next to her bed, savoring the simple pleasure of holding her in his arms.

“Am I too heavy?” she asked.

He laughed for the simple reason he found it difficult to speak. When he found his voice, he said, “I’m thinking you need to walk for me after this.” He wasn’t sure he had the willpower to hold her again and resist kissing her with a need and hunger that would shock her.

He carried her out of the room, down the long corridor, and into the foyer, where the piano sat. In his rush to get to Beth, he hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“You want me to walk for you?” she asked, resting her head against his shoulder. This woman. He swore she was going to be the end of him. “I need incentive,” she told him, staring at him with a look that immediately rose his suspicions.

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“What kind of incentive?”

She pressed her index finger against her lips, as if needing to give his question sufficient consideration. “A reward.”

“You got it. Anything you want within reason.”

“What I have in mind is reasonable. Do we have a deal?”

He was suspicious but willing to play her game. “Deal.” He carefully set her down on the piano bench.

Beth smiled up at him and lovingly placed her hands over the familiar keys as if caressing a lover’s face. The piano was an old upright, and all Sam could do was hope it was in tune.

“Did I ever mention I was born with perfect pitch?” she said. “My father’s mother taught me to play and she picked up on it right away.”

“One of your many gifts, no doubt,” he said, loving the joy he saw in her as she began to play.

She must be wondering about the piano the same as him. He’d never known anyone with perfect pitch but understood that if a key was even the slightest bit off it would grate against Beth’s ear like nails down a chalkboard. After testing the scales, her fingers bounced, striking chords. Just the way her hands moved showed respect and love for this musical instrument. Beth was in her element and he saw a side of her he’d never known before.

When she finished she looked at Sam. “Would you get your guitar?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Nodding eagerly, she said, “Please.”

After making sure Beth was settled, Sam left through the double glass doors, walking swiftly toward the parking lot. He’d meant to bring his guitar into the facility when he’d first arrived. His only excuse was that he’d been in too much of a hurry to get to Beth.

Sam returned to hear her playing a tune he didn’t recognize. He froze as her hands were a blur over the keyboard. When she noticed he was back, Beth’s smile was huge.

“Oh, how I’ve missed this,” she said with the softest of sighs. It was the same sound Sam made when he stepped into a hot shower after a long day of physical labor. “Do you realize how long it’s been since I played?” she asked, although it was a rhetorical question. Her fingers literally flew over the keys with a skill and knowledge that left him speechless.

“What’s that song?” he asked, scooting out a chair and sitting next to her.

“It’s an Étude by Frédéric Chopin.”

Sam had watched many people play a piano, but never had anyone done it with such feeling and joy as Beth. His mouth must have been gaping open, because Beth gave him an odd look.

“What?” she asked.

He scratched the side of his head. “Wow. That was incredible.”

“It’s a lovely piece; one of my favorites.”

Sam was in awe. “It sounded like a bubbling brook flowing over a waterfall. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it. I’ve certainly never seen anyone play like that before.”

“It was going through my head earlier today and I wanted to play it in the worst way.”

“It got my attention.”

Sam pulled a chair up closer. He placed the guitar on his lap and leaned forward, waiting for her to play more.

“Your turn,” she said.

“Ah. No way.” Sam shook his head.

“Sam, please. You and that guitar are the only things that got me through this last week.”

When she put it like that, how could he refuse? “Will you play with me?” he asked.

She agreed with an eager nod.

Sam righted his guitar and reached for his pick. “You know any Johnny Cash?”

“No, but I’ll pick it up.”

Sam strummed a few chords, studying her while he played.

“It sounds familiar but I can’t name it.”

“‘I Walk the Line’,” Sam supplied.

It didn’t take Beth long to pick up the melody and the rhythm. The piano quickly joined the guitar, the two instruments blending together as if they were one piece.

After a few minutes Beth glanced at him. “We sound good together.”

“We do,” he agreed, his smile so big his face ached. “Really good.”

Sam started another song, and again all Beth needed were a few bars before she was able to join in. He was convinced she’d never heard this Macklemore number, but it didn’t matter. After two or three such songs, he noticed a small group of staff members had gathered to watch and listen.

They must have played for forty minutes or more before Sam could see that Beth was tiring out. “That’s enough for tonight,” he said, and immediately sensed her disappointment.

“Just a few more songs. I’m loving this.”

The thing was Sam loved it, too. It would have been easy to give in, the temptation was there, but in the end he shook his head. “We’ll do it again. You’re going to be here a while.” It’d been a big day for her, and Beth was exhausted. Sam wondered if she’d done too much.

“You two been playing together for long?” one of the aides asked, stepping closer to the piano.

“Not long,” Sam answered, sharing a smile with Beth.

“Well, you’re amazing, both of you.” She started to leave, then turned back and asked, “Do you want me to get you a wheelchair, Beth?”

“No,” Beth insisted, smiling up at Sam.

He knew what she wanted. What he wanted. He carefully lifted Beth into his embrace the same way he had earlier. Again her arms went around him, her fingers smoothing the hair that fell at his neck. She laid her head against his shoulder. He loved the warm feel of her so close to him.

“Back to the room?” Sam asked, and, unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head.

“Back to the room,” Beth echoed.

He felt her staring at him as he carted her down the wide hallway. It was as if she were memorizing his features. Briefly she ran her fingertips over his beard.




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