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“Your grandmother introduced me to his music, Harper Barbara. She said you’d played it nearly nonstop when you were a teenager,” Maria Magdalena explained.
A wide, boyish grin spread across Landon’s lips.
This man didn’t need more proof she’d mooned over him for a decent portion of her life, but it was beautifully poetic.
“As you can tell,” Michel cut in, “we’re excited to have an artist from the world of contemporary pop and rock music grace our intimate concert hall. Our students are eager and excited to ask you questions. We’re classically trained,” the man continued, nodding to the instructors, “and while that is all well and good, many of our students are interested in music from—”
“—this century,” a member of the audience called playfully and elicited another round of laughter.
“Exactly,” Michel agreed.
“That’s the perfect transition for the impromptu question and answer segment of this most unique baking challenge,” Donna offered as another row of lights warmed the stage.
A trio of PAs scurried out. One grabbed a stool and an acoustic guitar, while the other two unlocked the wheels on the shiny black grand piano and pushed the musical beast toward center stage next to the stool. It happened to be the exact set-up they used when working on music in her living room.
“We figured you’d be most comfortable in your element,” Damien said, escorting her to the piano as Donna walked Landon to his stool and handed the man the guitar and a pick.
She settled herself on the bench and listened as Landon plucked the low E string and moved his way up, tuning the guitar to his liking. The familiar sound of her husband strumming and tweaking the strings set her at ease as she ran her fingers along the keys to get a feel for the instrument. The last time she’d played for an audience, she’d thought the ceiling was made of cake. She said a prayer, looked up, and saw only…beams, lights, and a boring old ceiling.
Phew!
“Are you good, bonbon, or do you want me to ask Schuman if he’s got any of Tanner’s special lollipops,” Landon teased, keeping his voice low.
“I’ll try to get through this without talking to my hands or licking the building,” she replied, then studied her hands. “Joyce, Bartholomew, does that sound good to you?”
“So damned sassy,” he mouthed, pegging her with his darkened gaze. And hello, tightened nipples and below-the-belly tingles. His sexy as hell demeanor helped alleviate her nerves, but it also had her clenching the muscles between her thighs.
And look at that.
Turning into a raging hornball snuffed out stage fright.
With every pair of eyes in the concert hall trained on them, a buzzy euphoria washed over her, along with a feeling she hadn’t known in ages.
Confidence.
She liked having the crowd in the palm of her hand.
The bubbly euphoria morphed into a slow, steady thrum of self-assurance that matched the beat of her heart.
Starting at one end of the piano and ending on the opposite side, she played a rich, flowing arpeggio scale, then caught her husband watching her. “Are you going to stare at me all day, heartthrob, or are you going to take some questions?” she goaded with a smirk.
Once you cashed in your ticket on the Harper Sass Express, you might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.
Landon tossed her a wink, eating up every morsel of her sass cake, and turned to the audience. “Why don’t we keep this informal,” he began, strumming as he spoke. “Feel free to call out questions, and Harper and I will do our best to answer them,” he finished and met her gaze. “Does that work for you, bonbon?”
Thank God she was seated. Observing the man on stage in his element and taking control would have made her weak in the knees. She’d be puckering up to the parquet floor without that piano bench.
“I can live with that format,” she answered softly, pressing the piano keys as she joined his guitar riff when a voice called out from the back of the hall.
“I’ve got a question. What’s it like to get married half-naked in Vegas?”
A round of good-natured chuckling broke out, breaking the ice.
Their reputation had preceded them, and it offered her a chance to put her mouth to good use.
“It’s cold,” she answered and was met by rumbling laughter. “They really pump out the air-conditioning in those Vegas hotels, especially at the Luxe Grandiose.” She glanced over at Donna and Damien. “You work for Mr. and Mrs. Luxe, right?”
“We do,” Damien answered.
