“He’s a good brother,” Sara said, studying the room again.
Ezreal wished he knew what she was thinking. Did she find his decor excessive? He’d never wanted to be one of those flashy rich guys and had felt a little guilty for the amount he’d invested in his apartment, especially since none of his partners had done much with theirs yet.
“I haven’t spent much money on myself,” he explained. “I’m not into fancy cars—”
“So I noticed.” Her approving glance encouraged him.
“But I decided to invest some of it here. To make it my dream house.”
“You have no need to apologize, if that’s what you’re doing. It’s certainly unexpected after that businesslike hallway. This . . .” Sara held out her hands and turned in a slow circle. “It’s like stepping into a magical place.”
Ezreal grinned. She liked it, and it made him happy.
“That’s what I was going for.” He stepped beside her and scanned the room. “When I was a kid, we’d vacation in a cabin in the mountains. I loved the rustic feel.”
“So youdohave a place to escape from work. It’s beautiful, and I love the open space by combining the living and dining rooms with the kitchen.” Sara slid her hand into his. “It’s both roomy and welcoming.
Ezreal went still, enjoying the feel of her hand in his, the rush like when he rode a zip line. It was intoxicating.
“Have you ever gone zip lining?” he asked.
“Zip lining?” She shot him a sideways glance, a slight crease between her brows. “Where did that come from?”
“I, uh, was just wondering what you like to do besides sew amazing costumes and teach kids.”
“I haven’t really had much time to do things that my children can’t do with me, not since—” Sara snapped her mouth shut.
“How long have you been parenting alone?”
“I got away from him when Brand was almost a year old.” A flash of pain crossed her face. She released Ezreal’s hand and stepped away. “I really don't want to talk about it.”
Her separation was more than a physical one. For a second he’d thought she was finally going to trust him. Then what she’d said sank in:got away. Was she running from the children’s father? Would he come looking for them? Ezreal nodded to himself. That would explain why Sara was so twitchy every time an unfamiliar car drove down her street and why Janna said they had to be careful who helped with the piano classes.
Ezreal mulled over the thought as he went to a large cupboard and pulled out parts for a small, circular racetrack. When he started assembling it, Brand came over, followed by his sister.
“What’s that?” Janna asked.
“It’s a racetrack I made for Nik and Lessa to play with. Let me show you how to use it.” Ezreal set it on a table and indicated the starting point. “Put your cars here.” When they had, he said to Brand, “Now push this button.”
Both cars zipped forward, and the children squealed with delight. When the cars reached the finish line, Brand and Janna ran to fetch them and start it again.
“Let me do it this time.” Janna waited until her brother had placed his car beside hers before pressing the button.
“That’ll keep them busy for a few minutes,” Sara said from behind Ezreal, resting her head against his shoulder.
He froze, holding his breath. Shehadn’tpushed him away. Maybe it really was that she didn’t want to talk about her ex-husband and not anger at him for raising the topic. Taking in a slow breath, Ezreal brushed his little finger against hers. When she responded by curling hers around his, he exhaled.
“Is that a whole wall of binders full of music?” she asked
“It is. I’ve always loved music,” he said. “My mother has some embarrassing videos of me dancing to the radio when I could barely stand. She said she didn’t realize at first that I was actually moving in rhythm with the music. My digital collection is even larger.”
“Never met a piece of sheet music you didn’t love, huh?” Sara glanced up at him then. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she looked away, her cheeks taking on a pretty blush.
Ezreal didn’t know what to do. He knew what hewantedto do, but with the kids playing a few feet away, he didn’t dare. And how would Sara react anyway?
“What’s your favorite song?” she asked.
“I couldn’t choose a favorite,” he said. “What about you?”
