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“Devotion,” came the rich rolling voice of the nanny matchmaker.
“My goodness, love appears to be in the air,” Damien remarked as he draped his arm around Donna’s shoulders.
Love.
The word sent her pulse racing.
“Those are perfect, and we can use both,” Landon said, looking like the cat who ate the canary.
What prompted that response?
“I’ve got ascalethat works with those words,” he added, strumming a rollicking, buoyant melody.
And then it hit.
It had to be the romance scale of devotion—the bullshit concept she’d pulled out of her ass at the bakery to get Landon to go along with doing the reality show.
That day felt like it had happened eons ago.
But this was no time to take a walk down memory lane. They had an audience watching their every move.
“I see where you’re going with this scale business,” she said, joining in on the piano and marrying her harmony to his melody.
The audience clapped along as Landon parted his lips and broke out into song.
“She’s a girl with chameleon eyes,
Her laughter’s full of surprises.
Sign me up for the romance scale of devotion.
Tell me, baby, what you need.
I won’t stop till I succeed, working my way through the scale of devotion.
Breakfast in bed, flowers in a vase, chocolate bonbons are no disgrace.
Baby’s got a scale of devotion.”
“Not bad,” she said, playing it cool, but she was holding it together by a thread.
Landon Paige was singing about her.
Her.
Did she want to utilize her opera voice and shriek like she was a thirteen-year-old at a…Landon Paige Heartthrob Warfare concert?
You bet your ass she did.
Harper, aged thirteen, would have lost her ever-lovin’ mind.
But she couldn’t anymore—not in front of the students and everyone watching online.
Use the power of the sass.
She pegged the guy with her gaze. “That was cute and all, heartthrob, but you’re missing a line.”
“Am I?” he tossed back with a devilish grin.
