Ezreal set down his laptop and powered it on. Lessa and Janna came to stand next to him, one on each side. Sara sat on the arm of the sofa behind her daughter.
He was attuned to Sara’s presence, but it seemed especially powerful at that moment. She had a fragrance she wore that, when combined with the smell that washer, woke him to things he hadn’t paid attention to before. He wished he could capture it in music. She had quickly become his favorite bouquet.
Ezreal opened the folder on his desktop and selected the piece he’d written after his first meeting with Janna and Sara. His stomach swirled in nervous anticipation. What if they didn’t like it? He glanced at Sara. She sat with her eyes closed as though her mind were far off as she listened to the music.
“It’s so pretty,” Janna whispered and looked at him. “That’s my song?”
“Partly yours. It’s also your mother’s.”
“What part is mine?” the little girl asked.
Ezreal isolated the melody and played it alone. Janna gasped, her expression brightening.
“That’s the pretty part.”
“It’s all pretty,” Sara said.
“Here’s your mother’s song.” Ezreal’s hand trembled a little as he made the change to isolate the alto line.
He met Sara’s gaze. Something almost tangible flowed between them. Energy swelled inside him, threatening to burst from his chest, into the room, to reach out to her and pull her into his arms. With a cough, he dropped his gaze.
“It’s beautiful,” Sara said, her voice a little shaky. Had she felt it too?
Ezreal was too afraid to look up at her.
“What about Brand?” Janna insisted.
“His is separate right now, but I’m thinking to incorporate it into a longer version of yours.” He clicked the line, and it played the crazy descant, like a bouncing bee flying from one flower to another.
“That’s just like him” Janna clapped her hands and gave a delighted giggle. “But what’s the other line on mine and mama’s song?”
Ezreal’s ears went hot. He swore that one of these days he was going to grow out his hair so people couldn’t see when his ears blushed.
“Who’s is that?” Lessa asked.
“Is that you, Ezreal” Sara asked softly.
Embarrassed, he gave a little nod.
“Play your song,” Janna said. “I want to hear you too.”
Letting out a breath, he set the full song to play again.
* * *
Knowingthat his was the bass line, Sara closed her eyes and let herself experience the beauty. She had a good ear and even without him isolating his line, the wistful quality of it came through. It made her chest ache and want to reach out to comfort him. Alone, it would have been sad, but added to hers and Janna’s lines, it instead gave the piece a sense of longing without dragging it down.
“Is that the way you see yourself?” Sara asked quietly.
Ezreal met her gaze. His blue eyes seemed to pull her to him, and she found it necessary to blink and glance away. How could a man who was so humble and self-deprecating be mesmerizing?
“Well,” she said, keeping her tone level, “we should let Ezreal get some work done. He said he has loads of music trapped in his head, and it’s just bursting to get out. We need to let him free it. You girls should go out and play.”
“What about my song?” Lessa asked.
“We can’t forget you.” Ezreal played a pretty little piece, this one on its own.
“That’s so pretty. I like it.” Lessa leaned her head against his shoulder. “I wish I could hear all the music like you and Janna do.”
