Page 58 of The Magical Bed & Breakfast

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“Okay, I figuredit out,” Rory said as Kate came through the front door. She rounded the corner into the parlor, and Rory lost his breath. She was stunning as Katrina. Her hair swept up and showing off the curve of her neck, little tendrils of curls escaping from her sleek updo to caress her check and shoulder where her collar flared out. Rory’s mouth went dry.

She took a step into the room, and his eyes immediately dropped to those long legs in low heels accentuating the curve of her calves, then up to her straight pencil skirt, this time in a deep, luxurious burgundy that contrasted with her bright white button-up. She looked all proper, except for the three buttons open at her neck and the fourth almost working itself open as her breasts pushed against the fabric and revealed a little lacy something underneath that was making him want to be anything but proper.

He cleared his throat. “I think I know how to make this work. It’s…unconventional.”

Kate set her clutch down on a lamp table, the filtered light from the fringed lampshade flowing over her and softening her features. She slid onto the bench, and suddenly Rory was exactly where he wanted to be. Seated at a piano with Kate beside him. Her arm brushing his. Her hip pressed to his. Her perfume, with hints of citrus and vanilla, overloading his senses and nearly his common sense. She was his innkeeper and his media rep and…he wanted more.

He swallowed. It couldn’t be. She was staying here in Hazard, and he would be leaving. In that instant, he decided to ignore that pesky detail and enjoy the moment.This moment.

“Are you going to tell me?” Kate had turned a little to face him, and she was close, so close…

“Yes, well, no.” His head swam a little at her nearness. “Follow my lead, okay?”

She nodded, and they began to play. They fell easily into the rhythm of the first page. The stanzas coming easier, the interludes between them a bit more complicated, each increasing in difficulty, until they were both concentrating on the music, their breath synchronized. As they neared the end of the second page, Rory said, “Slow this part down for now. Here, we cross our hands.” They played several measures. “Here, we cross back. And here, we reach all the way past each other. It’s a stretch but just for this measure. And here,” they played, slowing the piece down, “Scooch in closer.”

Kate turned with a quick raised eyebrow.

“Trust me, okay? I think this will work. Actually, I think this is the only way this will work. Here, I reach around you with my right hand.” He now had his right arm around Kate. “And you cross over with your right to the bass keys while I cross into the treble, and here is the closing finale.” They played the last few measures, the final chord resounding with them wrapped in each other arms.

The note echoed in the stillness of the parlor. Rory turned his face toward Kate just as she turned to face him, her lips barely a hair’s breadth from his. She abruptly looked down and away, his lips brushing her cheek.

Kate stilled, her breaths short and shallow, pulse jumping in her throat.

She took a deep breath and let it out slow even as Rory held his own.

“What do you think?” he finally ventured.

She reached up to fidget with her collar. “We played it perfectly.”

“We did.” He waited.

“It actually worked. The change you made.” She angled her body to face him. “But that can’t be what the composer intended. I mean…it’s so odd.

Rory nodded, “It is.”

“What kind of composer would write a piece that puts the musicians in each other’s arms?”

A woman, thought Rory, and wondered where the idea came from.

“It’s…” Kate trailed off.

“Yeah,” said Rory, “It is that.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The day ofthe Harvest Festival dawned brisk and cold, with high winds brushing the treetops, sending leaves spiraling into the sky. Kate watched from her bedroom window, pulling her heavy chenille robe tighter in the morning chill. She’d had to swap out her spa robe as the days grew shorter and cooler. The inn was a tad drafty in the mornings, as she was trying to conserve on her heating costs until she opened. Oh, she kept the second floor warm and cozy for her one guest, but the third was a mite nippy for now.

In only a few hours she would be performing a duet. She ran her hands along her sleeves, letting the softness of the fabric calm her. Was she ready? Were they ready to play the duet without messing up before all of Hazard? If they could play it perfectly, they were guaranteed success. But wasn’t the entire legend just a myth? They’d played it perfectly already downstairs, and nothing happened. No bells. No whistles. Kate had felt no magical intervention into her life.

Except for the two of them in each other’s arms.

She sighed. Lots to do today before the festival started. But first, she needed to make a call. She had connections and she could do this one thing to help Rory out with his career. So many years spent fixing the colossal screwups of the rich and famous had given her an in into the music world. So she reached for her phone and made the call. She had solved many a problem for this agent’s artists. He had offered to help her out any time. Well, this was it. Kate was calling in the favor he had promised.

*

Rory wasn’t surehow it happened, but he had been conscripted by the Hazard Historical Society to set up for the Harvest Festival. So here he was at seven in the morning in the Town Hall, setting up tables for the crafters’ booths and missing whatever amazing breakfast Kate had planned. He’d poured himself a tall go-cup of her rich coffee and even braved her basket of newly baked muffins as he headed out. And, wow, who knew chocolate chips and clove were such a dynamic combo? Especially with a hint of maple and apple. Amazing. Kate was on her way to success. And he was on his way out of town in just a few days. Whitney swung by to give him a hand. “You ready for tonight?” she asked.

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