“I like that you can hear the music,” he said.
Janna straightened and took a step back. “Will you help teach?”
“If your mother approves of me.” Ezreal winced. He hadn’t meant to say that either.
Janna smiled, and it was like the sun had broken through gray clouds. All the wariness and worry disappeared from her little face. She skipped to the door and followed Lessa inside.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Rafe shot him a smug look.
“Did you set that up, knowing I’d have a hard time telling a child that I wouldn’t help?”
“Them’s fightin’ words, Ez.” Rafe’s expression had turned from surprised to offended. “When haveIever disrespected you about this?”
“Sorry. You’re right.” Ezreal couldn’t say the same about his other two partners. It wasn’t so much that the guys disrespected him, but they were prone to try to nag him into uncomfortable situations. They meant well but just didn’t understand, kind of like Ezreal’s family.
He leaned back in the chair and started rocking it again. What had he done? A promise made to a child had to be honored or it should never be made. At the age of twelve, after he’d come home from school bloodied and bruised,again, he’d made a commitment to himself to always listen to what children reported.
Maybe Janna’s mother wouldn’t want his help. His spirits lifted at the thought. For once, his inability to talk to women he didn’t know well didn’t seem like such a bad thing. That would certainly put her off.
“What are you grinning about?” Rafe asked.
Ezreal stopped rocking and wiped away the smile. Rafe might not push him to do any public speaking or talk to unfamiliar women—usually—but he could rib with the best of them. From the way he was looking at him, Ezreal knew he’d have to come clean.
“Since I’m a stranger, she might not want my help.”
“Nice try, but Ma’s been talking you up to Mrs. Fortune since she moved next door.”
“She might not like my preferred way of teaching.” Ezreal could hope.
“You have a preferr—” Rafe broke off at the sound of voices coming from the back of the house again.
“Oh, look, they’re here already,” Mrs. Diederik’s familiar voice said.
Ezreal sent him a panicked glance, his stomach twisting in knots. His heart was flaying the inside of his chest, making it hurt. The edges of his vision were turning black. Hecouldn’tpass out in front of this woman!
“Remember to breathe, man.” Rafe shook Ezreal’s shoulder. “I’m here with you.”
The motion seemed to jerk Ezreal’s body free from the ice of immobility. He made a horrible gasping sound, air finally filling his lungs. Two pairs of feet appeared at the bottom of the porch steps in almost the same place Janna had stood a few minutes ago.
He recognized the comfortable gardening shoes on Rafe’s mother’s feet but not the sandals on the second pair. Ezreal’s gaze went from the deep rose of the painted toenails up the shapely legs and finally to her face where the same light gray eyes encircled with dark blue scowled at him.
Ezrealhadseen them before, several times at the grocery store. So many times, in fact, he’d worried that he’d managed to attract a stalker like Rafe had when the sale of their first game had been all over the media. Ezreal had reasoned that no woman would stalk him.Well, not reasonable ones. Then, the last time he’d seen her, she’d met his gaze with such a terrifying one of her own that he’d stopped going to that store.
And now here she was.
“Sara, you’ve already met my son, Rafe,” Mrs. D was saying, “and this is his partner Ezreal Wallach. He’s over music for REKD Gaming.”
“It’s nice to see you again.” Rafe had stood and was extending a hand to Mrs. Fortune. He nudged Ezreal’s foot, but he couldn’t move.
Brushing aside a strand of long blonde hair that had escaped her bun, Mrs. Fortune arched a brow, and the hint of a smile teasing her full lips. He looked away. Was she laughing at him? The dangerous tingling returned to his fingers, and his breathing turned forced.
“Francie and Rafe, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind checking on Janna and Brand for me.” Mrs. Fortune had a rich, musical voice.
The birds had taken up their chorus, and the start of a melody was teasing at the corners of Ezreal’s mind. As the others went into the house without another word, Ezreal glanced up again, wondering if Mrs. Fortune sang. The music in his mind grew louder, and he started tapping on his leg, wishing she’d speak again. Instead, she sat in the rocker Rafe had vacated. Out of the corner of Ezreal’s eye, he could tell from the angle of her legs that she was facing him. He should go inside too.
Still, her voice had started that melody . . .
“Say it again,” he whispered, focusing on his fingers and the rhythm they were working.
