Willow steeled herself for this revelation. He was either going to totally get it or totally think she was crazy. “Because my most favorite ballet of all time is Romeo and Juliet. Not because of the story. I mean, the story’s fine, although a little unbelievable. But the music?” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The music is absolutely…” She flared her hands. “I never have a word strong enough to describe what it does to me.”
Harry stood, frozen in place, just staring at her without blinking. “Prokofiev or Tchaikovsky?”
“What?” Those names made sense to her, but she was astounded to hear him use them.
“Whose Romeo and Juliet? Prokofiev’s or Tchaikovsky’s?”
“Prokofiev. Tchaikovsky is too…” She waved her hand. “Fluffy,” she finally said. “And it’s only a symphonic poem…” She stopped talking as Harry left the kitchen and disappeared into the living room. A few seconds later, the lilting strings of the introduction filled the house and Willow closed her eyes, trying hard to swallow against the emotion the music stirred in her.
The lump in her throat.
The tears pricking at her eyes.
All of it made even more intense to know that she was at Harry’s house and he was playing it for her.
Her hand rose to her chest and she opened her eyes to find him leaning on the counter, watching her, his own eyes glistening. “It’s my favorite too, but you have to promise not to tell my brothers.”
Holy, hell! How many hints that she needed to pay attention to this guy could the universe possibly drop?
Chapter Eighteen
Willow
Harry finished cooking while Willow listened to the familiar strains of her favorite ballet. As it turned out, she wasn’t completely wrong about him being a typical guy—he did have a killer entertainment system. The sound quality was almost as good as hearing the symphony perform live. Harry barely spoke as he cooked, which was good, because she might not have been able to bear the music mixing with his voice and the growing certainty that Harry Moore was going to change everything.
As he worked, he showed her each ingredient, waiting for her approval before he added it to the meal, which she appreciated. Somehow, dinner was still going to squeeze into her official list of Acceptable Meals. Maybe a little higher in fat than she would typically go, but he used healthy fats, so she didn’t feel too bad about it. And when she took her first bite, she didn’t feel bad about it at all.
“This is so delicious,” she murmured around some of the juiciest chicken she’d ever eaten.
Harry put a finger to his lips and nodded toward the speaker. “This is the best part.”
And Willow had to admit that it really was.
* * *
They finished dinner and did the dishes in a silent dance around the kitchen. It reminded Willow of the first time they met, except this time, whenever Harry came near, he made sure to touch her.
A hand on her back.
A brush of his finger on her shoulder.
A bump of his hip against hers.
They finished the dishes during the music for the balcony scene. Willow leaned back against the counter and closed her eyes again, awash in the memories of the choreography and the rich emotions the sweet melody carved out of her soul. Just as the moment for Romeo and Juliet’s first kiss drew near, she became aware of Harry standing next to her. She opened her eyes and found him smiling down at her and damn if he didn’t touch his lips to hers just when the music called for it.
She pressed into him and it was as if her heart and her body and her soul opened themselves to his. As if he became part of her and she became part of him and she would never again feel whole without him at her side. The rush of emotions left her trembling. It was like looking at the face of God and understanding the meaning of life.
She ran her hands up his back and dug her fingernails into the corded muscles near his shoulders, needing him to be closer than he was. Needing more points of contact between them.
Of all the signs in the world, this one had to be the biggest. The boldest. The universe was trying to tell her something, and went out of its way to make it so clear, she’d be a fool to ignore it.
She was for Harry and Harry was for her and that was all there was to it.
Life plans be damned.
Career goals or not, she belonged in his arms.
Harry finally ended the kiss and Willow realized tears were falling down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern tightening his voice.
“I’m sorry. It’s nothing. It’s the music. And you. And…have you ever seen the ballet?” She indicated the sound system in the living room with a jerk of her head.
“No. I’ve never been to the ballet.”
He hadn’t even known when the kiss was supposed to happen.
One more sign in a long list of signs. How could she ignore them all?
“We’re doing it in February,” she said, trying to bring her thoughts back to reality.
Harry looked confused. “Huh?”
“The ballet. American City Ballet is performing Romeo and Juliet.” She shrugged. For some reason, talking about reality didn’t feel all that great.
“Oh, yeah?” Harry stepped back and gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You should come.” She swallowed hard, her emotions taking ninety degree turns at break-neck speeds. “I’d love it if you could be there.”
“Then I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Harry ran a finger down her cheek, smiling through sad eyes. “But, if you’ll forgive me, I’d rather focus on the present, while you’re here, with me. I’m not ready to think about you leaving. Not yet.”
Willow couldn’t help but agree. “I honestly don’t want to think about leaving either. And we still have most of the week in front of us.” So there’s still plenty of
