Connor stood, shocked and embarrassed. "Sarah! I can't believe you did that!" She pushed herself back and stuck her tongue out at Jackson.
He chuckled as he sauntered back to the piano. "So, what's it gonna be, The Carpenters or Taylor Swift?"
Elisabeth held her head in her hands, slowly shaking it. She looked up and said, "Sarah, I think I can find something that will satisfy you." She opened the antique music cabinet Jackson had purchased for her, and brought a piece to him. It was "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan.
The simplicity of vocal sheet music encouraged Jackson to improvise a great deal. He was so tuned in to Elisabeth's voice, that just by scanning a piece of music, he knew where to change the composition to compliment her, and where to back off to let her shine. She sang directly to Sarah and the tears started to flow quickly.
At the end of the song, Sarah jumped up and hugged her. "Can that be my special song?"
"Of course it can, we will play it whenever you like." She glanced over Sarah's shoulder at Jackson who gave her an appreciative wink.
After breaking Sarah's embrace, she asked, "You love music so much, why don't you sing or play an instrument?"
Jackson groaned, "Because she has the attention span of a gnat." He had tried to teach her to play the piano many times through the years, but she always became bored within a week or so of practice and gave up. The last time she asked, he tossed a theory book at her. "Get through that and we'll talk."
***
Elisabeth was setting up to work in her studio as Jackson stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her. She had her iPod on, singing "All I Want To Do" by Sugarland. Her hips swayed in rhythm as she positioned her easel and paints. She was oblivious to him observing her with unmitigated admiration.
She jumped upon noticing him and removed the headphones. "How long have you been standing there?"
His mask of veneration slowly turned into a licentious grin. "Long enough to be thoroughly turned on." He moved in and pulled her close. "I'm thinking Daisy Duke outfit, and that song for my Christmas lap dance."
She smirked up at him. "You are insatiable."
"If memory serves, you were the insatiable one this morning." She blushed and lowered her lids.
Jackson pulled her chin up, and kissed her gently. He loved the way she could be wanton and sensual one minute, then bashful and demure the next. "And you call me an enigma."
She put her hands on his chest and giggled, "I have work to do, you need to stop distracting me." A second easel stood with five photographs of a male adolescent.