Page 25 of The Maestro and the Roofer

“Dad, oh my God,” Eric’s daughter squeaked. “You said you knew somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody. That’s how you got my playbill signed. That’s what you said!”

“Yeah, well.” Eric shrugged and then admitted, “I lied.”

Mia laughed at the simple explanation and then said, “Don’t blame your dad. I asked him to keep it hush-hush.” She held out her hand for a proper introduction. “I’m Mia.”

In a daze, Eric’s daughter shook her hand limply. “Oh my God. Wow. Hi. I’m Alice.”

The hairs on the back of Mia’s neck stood up, and she struggled to pull in a breath.

If you were looking for a sign that this is where you’re supposed to be…I think you just found one.

“That was my granny’s name,” Mia choked out in a whisper. She took a second to compose herself, hand falling to her sidebefore a smile returned in full force. “It’s nice to meet you, Alice.”

“You too. Sorry, I know it’s annoying, but can I get a picture?”

Mia nodded, and they posed in front of the music school. Dutiful dad Eric took several pictures from different angles, and Alice inspected the images before declaring his photography adequate. Then Alice launched into an overview of her lessons—she’d tried the piano, the violin, and the flute before focusing her efforts on the piano, much to Mia’s delight.

“It’s a good school,” Eric told Mia, gesturing to the colorful decals decorating the windows. “Hopefully, you can come back and visit again one day. Maybe experience it firsthand.”

“I have a feeling you haven’t seen the last of me,” she replied, buzzing with bliss.

On the drive back to the cottage, she relayed a silent thanks to her grandmother. She had never considered herself a spiritual or religious person, but there was no denying that her granny remained with her even in death, and nowhere had that connection felt stronger than during the past weeks in Daymont.

It was the final sign Mia needed to take the leap—a leap toward a life of music on her own modest and magnificent terms. And, if all went well, a life with the charismatic man who’d challenged her, inspired her, and helped rediscover that passion.

Flipping the blinker on, she turned the last corner toward the cottage. If Travis didn’t answer the phone, she’d track him down in person, starting with the DT. But that plan became moot when she pulled into the driveway, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of his green truck.

He sat on the porch steps, with his head hanging and his elbows resting on his knees. A rhapsody of epic proportions burst from her chest as she stepped out of the car, their gazes meeting as he raised his head. Immediately shooting to his feet,he shifted his stance back and forth in a nervous manner as she approached.

“Hey,” he mumbled. “I, uh…I realized that I didn’t return the spare key.”

A lone key sat in the center of his outstretched palm. She’d given him the spare after their first night together so he could come and go as he pleased, trusting him implicitly. Trustingthem.

Instead of taking the key, Mia ascended the stairs and plastered herself against his body, draping her arms over his shoulders for a hug. After being underwater for days, the sensation of his strong biceps circling her was like breaching the surface. His hands shifted to tilt her head back, planting a panty-dropping kiss on her mouth, and not a smidgen of doubt remained in her heart.

“This is fucking selfish of me to say,” he grunted against her lips, “but goddamn it, I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him breathlessly.

He took an incredulous step back. “But you?—”

“Yeah, I technically have the house until tomorrow, but it’s not like anyone’s moving in right after me,” she explained, knowing her agent only rented to the public during the busy summer season. “I’m sure I can work something out with Leslie for the time being.”

“Mia, come on. You can’t prolong this forever. You have a career to think about.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you just say you don’t want me to go?”

“Trust me, I don’t. The thought fucking kills me.” A weary breath left his mouth, and he held up the tiny key to the cottage between his thumb and index finger. “Hell, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized I had a convenient excuse to come see you.”

With a tender smile, she took the key and placed it back into the center of his palm, folding his fingers over it to keep it safe.

The column of his throat bobbed. “I want you here, but I also don’t want you giving things up for me. You’re—” He stopped to steady his emotions, inhaling deeply. Wonder shone in his eyes as he finished his thought. “You’re kind of a big fucking deal.”

Her hands traced the line of his jaw, savoring the prickling sensation of the bristles. She cupped his face and whispered, “I just want to be a big fucking deal to you.”

His head sagged with a relieved sigh, their foreheads touching gently. They breathed in tandem, the sound of the river in the distance a perfect soundtrack for the tender moment. But uncertainty and guilt still radiated from him, so Mia ushered him down onto the porch steps. Sitting side by side, she pleaded her case.

“I can compose music anywhere. I don’t have to be in New York to do that. It helps, sure, but it’s not the be-all and end-all. The piano in there has served me fine the last few weeks,” she said, nodding toward the house with a smile. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to teach. Like my granny.”

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