Page 69 of The Sound of Harmony

ChapterEighteen

The rain had stopped by the time they got back to Kendrick’s house. They put away the groceries and continued opening moving boxes and sorting. Kendrick would have liked to do things other than unpack. He wanted to take Emma upstairs and worship her body until she was calling out his name, but that would have to wait. She told him that work hours were for work, and he respected that.

They unpacked together, and the rest of the day flew by as they talked about history and cooking and told each other funny stories from grade school. He felt like they could have a hundred-year conversation and never run out of things to talk about. He loved making Emma smile, and when he made her laugh, he felt like the king of the world.

At six o’clock, they opened the last box. Emma had already filled several pages of her legal pad with shopping lists. He apparently needed everything from lawn tools to placemats. Who knew the things from his bachelor apartment were so inadequate?

“What’s this?” Emma asked, prying the end off a carboard mailing tube.

“A few wall posters,” he said. “I was thinking I wanted something familiar, so I brought them.”

Emma slid them out of the tube, unrolled them and laid them out on top of the piano. He had an artist’s rendering of Mozart, a topographical map of Europe, and a print of that famous photograph of John Lennon and Yoko Ono. “Oh, my,” she said. “Interesting assortment.”

“I don’t have to keep them,” he said, suddenly embarrassed. He was thirty years old, why was he still decorating with posters like a college kid? Was he going to stick them on the wall with masking tape?

“There are a couple of places we can visit tomorrow,” Emma offered. “By the way, my friend Brooke is tagging along to Columbus with us, hope that’s okay.”

“IKEA tomorrow, yes? And then the Container Store?”

“You remembered.”

“I looked.” He pointed to the clipboard, where her schedule was on the front page. “And yes, I’d love to meet your friend. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Just act normal,” Emma said.

“Same thing.”

She squeezed past him to get the box cutter and he took that moment to capture her around the waist and pull her in for ticklish neck kisses.

“You do realize I have a weapon, don’t you?”

“I surrender,” he murmured against her skin. “Do your worst.”

She set down the box cutter and put her arms around him. Apparently, her worst involved kissing and nibbling and running her fingers through his hair and other exciting things.

And then his stupid body—which always seemed to be betraying him lately—ruined the moment with a stomach growl that was loud enough to be heard next door.

Emma took a step back. “It’s getting late, isn’t it? What were you thinking for dinner?”

“Eating,” he said. “So bothersome.”

“But it must be done.” She pointed to his stomach, which was growling again.

“Now that we’ve got my kitchen sorted, I could cook.”

“Or I could take you out.” Emma held up the check he’d just written her. “I have this new client, and he pays really well.”

“Oh, he does, does he? He must be loaded.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Emma said breezily. “He’s a semi-retired musician. Is that a good job?”

“Hard to say.” Kendrick sucked in air. Was she asking what he thought she was asking? Or was she simply trying to hint that she was keeping business and pleasure separate? He couldn’t tell from her expression.

“Well, anyway, dinner is on me.” Emma folded the check and put it into her pocket. She brushed dusty cardboard fibers off her t-shirt. “If you want to get dressed up, I’ll have to go home and change. But if you’re thinking beer and a burger, we look fine for the restaurants where the college kids go.”

“Can you come here a second?” Kendrick sat on the piano bench and held out his hand to her.

She was immediately at his side. “Are you all right? Are you dizzy?”