“Five miles? You walk five miles a day?” The farthest Henri had trekked lately was from a tour bus to a stage door, running a gauntlet of grabby fans.
“Every other, but yes, I must stay in shape.”
Henri bit down on a too-easy retort. Sex burned lots of calories, and if done right, worked all the major muscles groups, including those firm glutes hidden beneath Seb’s pants. “Why don’t you lift weights?” With a house the size of Seb’s, it’d be easy to turn an unused room into a gym.
“If you change the contour of the instrument, you change the pitch. I walk, I lift light weights, but nothing designed to change my shape.” Seb patted his chest. “When someone casts me in a production, they expect a certain sound. I work hard to make sure they get their money’s worth.”
Jeez. The only time Henri worried about weight was if his jeans got too tight, then it was all about being thin. Seb worried about losing weight, rather than gaining. A first, in Henri’s book.
The path took them up an incline. Seb loo-loo’d the rest of the way. Henri huffed and puffed a few paces behind him. Damned high altitude! He’d kill for a walking stick to either help him climb or to whack the guy currently bounding up the trail like he had springs for legs.
How the fuck did he do that?
Just when Henri thought his chest might explode, Sebastian quieted and stopped. “Look there.” He stepped back and let Henri have the view. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”
Henri caught movement below and managed to steady his breathing enough to focus. A herd of deer grazed among wildflowers below them…. A hawk circled overhead. A light breeze kissed Henri’s cheek. Quiet. So quiet. “I understand why you like it here.”
“This land has been in my family for four generations.” A touch of sorrow stained the words. “We’re on the edge of the goldfields. My great-grandfather’s family used to own much of the valley, too, before they fell on hard times. Come on, we need to be getting home.”
Seb said not a word, nor did he hum, on the way back to the house.
