Page 22 of Taking a King

I open my mouth to respond, but the words stick in my throat. I want to reassure him that I care about Claire. I want to tell him that I'll treat her right and that I won't hurt her. But I can't make the words come out.

"If not," Ronan says with a shrug, "I'll kick your ass and find a real reason to arrest you."

He flashes me a quick grin, instantly lightening the mood between us. “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I say. “It’s good to see you, man.”

“You too.”

Chapter Twelve

Claire

I hate that I can’t hear what Ronan and Garrett are talking about out on the deck. I know it’s at least civil. No one is throwing any punches, and no one has been arrested. I tell myself that’s a good sign. Maybe Ronan is finally coming to terms with the situation. Aside from a few jokes at Garrett’s expense, he’d behaved himself during dinner. I’d almost come to believe that would be the end of it. I should have known better. As soon as we’d cleared the dinner dishes, Ronan had dragged Garrett outside to ‘catch up’. Like I believe that. I know he’s probably doing the big brother threat thing.

I tell myself there’s nothing I can do about that right now. Garrett’s an adult. Besides, he’d known what he was getting into long before we ever became more than friends. Liam asks me a question about his finger placement on the keys and I drag my attention away from the men outside. Smiling, I adjust Liam’s fingers to the correct placement.

“There,” I say. “Just like that.”

Liam grins and moves to the next note with confidence. He’s getting good. I feel a sense of pride that he’s learned so much in such a short time. I don’t know if that means I’m a good teacher or if he just has a natural talent. Either way, I love seeing the spark of happiness in his eyes when he learns something new. He’s a good student and so eager to learn. I’m sure his progress has as much to do with his attitude as it does my mediocre skills as a teacher.

By the time Liam and I finish our song, Ronan and Garrett have returned from outside. I glance up at them, catching Garrett’s eye. He gives me an easy smile that tells me all I need to know. Whatever the two of them talked about, it didn’t upset him. I return the smile and turn back to Liam.

Liam turns to face me, abandoning the piano altogether. “Aunt Claire, will you sing a song?”

The question catches me off-guard for some reason. It’s not as though it’s the first time Liam’s made this request. He asks me to sing nearly every week. Plus, I sing at Mack’s nearly every weekend for tips. My eyes stray to where Garrett’s standing, watching me. For some reason, the idea of singing in front of Garrett has my stomach in knots. Which is ridiculous. I’ve sung for dozens of strangers more times than I can count. Why should this be any different? I look back to Liam who’s still waiting for my answer.

“Sure, kiddo,” I say, smiling. “What do you want to hear?”

Liam’s face scrunches up in thought. “The bonfire song.”

I think for a moment, trying to figure out what song he means. After a minute, it comes to me. “Bonfire Heart?”

Liam nods. “Yeah! That one.”

I smile at his excitement and ruffle his hair. It’s a song I sang for him a few weeks ago. I can’t believe he remembers it, let alone wants to hear it again. It’s a love song—not exactly the kind of song a kid usually chooses. But Liam’s a special kid. He’s got an ear for good music.

“Alright,” I say. “But I’ll need my guitar for that one. Wanna go grab it for me?”

Liam nods and rushes over to get the instrument. He’s excited, but infinitely careful as he carries it back to me. I take it from him with a smile. Once the guitar is in my hands, I forget all about the nerves. I forget about singing in front of someone new and focus on the music. Everything else fades away. Liam sits next to me, watching my hands intently, studying my finger placement on the strings. He really is a terrific student. It helps that he truly loves music. I give him a little wink as I begin to play.

I get lost in the chords and the lyrics. The song is upbeat and always makes me smile. By the second chorus, Liam is singing along with me. I look around the room to see everyone watching. Hope is singing along, her arms wrapped around Wyatt’s waist. Garrett stands just a little apart from everyone else. He’s watching me, his expression one I can’t read. I have to work to tear my eyes away from him. Instead, I focus on my fingers on the frets as I work through the simple chords of the song. It’s much safer than whatever I’d just seen in Garrett’s eyes. I have a feeling that if I looked into a mirror right now, my own expression would match his.

When I finish the song, everyone cheers and claps. Liam begs for one more, but his parents insist he needs to get home. It’s a school night, after all. He gives a theatrical groan but doesn’t argue. Instead, he offers to take my guitar back to its stand. I watch him as he carefully carries it across the room and puts it back exactly the way he’d found it. He really is a terrific kid.

I sense someone to my left and turn to see Garrett standing beside the piano bench. My heartbeat ratchets up a notch at his sudden nearness. Everyone else is busy gathering their jackets and saying goodnight, but I’m glued to my spot by something I can see in Garrett’s eyes.

“May I?” He gestures toward the seat.

I nod. “Of course.”

The bench really isn’t made for two adults, so there’s no way for us to sit together without touching. I can feel his thigh touching the length of mine. I try to ignore the tidal wave of need that crashes through me at his nearness. I’ve spent a good portion of the last 24 hours in bed with this man and somehow, I still feel greedy for his touch.

Garrett spreads his fingers on the piano keys, and I watch as he mimics playing. He doesn’t actually press the keys, but that doesn’t matter. I can’t seem to look away from his long fingers spread over the black and white keys. My thoughts flash back to his hands on me, coaxing a different kind of music from me. I suck in a shaky breath and clench my thighs together to ease the sudden ache there.

“You’re incredible.” Garrett’s low, husky tone does nothing to stem the desire I’m feeling. “Watching you play, hearing you sing tonight? You were amazing. You never told me you were so good.”

I clear my throat and focus on the conversation rather than all the things I’d like to do to Garrett right now. I can hear the rest of my family gathering their things behind me and getting ready to leave, but I’m happy to stay right where I am. Next to Garrett. I turn to look at him.

“You never asked,” I say, injecting a playful tone into my words.