Sweet Trilogy: Sweet Talk / Sweet Spot / Sweet Trouble

“Maybe a little.”

“Good.”

The blush turned into a glow.

Wyatt didn’t need to look at the menu. He’d been to Buchanan’s enough times to know what he liked. But he enjoyed watching Claire study the selections. She looked intense, as if her decision had consequences.

He still hadn’t decided if asking her out had been smart or not. He was attracted to her, she was single and sexy as hell. Dating made sense.

Except she was Nicole’s sister and no one he would normally meet, let alone get involved with. A few minutes on the Internet had produced more information on Claire Keyes than he’d expected. She was famous, revered and adored on every continent she’d visited. Critics loved her, fans worshipped her and she’d had multiple bestselling CDs. He was a guy who built houses in Seattle. What was wrong with this picture?

“Would you like to order a bottle of wine?” he asked, refusing to talk himself out of the evening before it had even begun.

“That would be great. Do you—”

Just then a man in a tux walked over to their table. “Good evening. I am Marcellin, your sommelier. I heard you mention wine and my ears perked up. May I offer some assistance?”

He had a French accent that sounded so perfect, Wyatt wondered if it was fake. Before he could decide whether or not to use Marcellin’s services, Claire began speaking to him. In French.

They chatted for a few minutes, before Marcellin excused himself. Claire turned to Wyatt.

“Sorry. I got carried away.”

“No problem. You two know each other?”

She smiled. “I’m into wine, so I was asking about their wine list.”

“You speak French.”

Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t realized she’d slipped into the other language. “Um, a little.”

It sounded like more than a little to him.

“Sometimes I would listen to language CDs on flights. It helps pass the time. Then I get to practice when I’m in that country.”

“So it’s more than French.”

“I speak Italian, a little German. I tried Mandarin, but I so don’t have the ear.” She shifted in her seat as if she was uncomfortable. “It’s not a big deal. Anyway, the wine list is very impressive. A lot of good Washington wines. I like to try local when I’m somewhere, both food and wine. I always order a glass of something regional with my room service dinner.”

“Room service? You’re not out partying every night?”

“Not even close. After a performance, I’m usually exhausted. I go back to the hotel where I eat something light, try to unwind, then go to bed. Occasionally there are dinners with patrons. Those aren’t as fun as they sound. I have to be totally on, which is its own kind of tiring.”

He knew nothing about her or her world, he thought. A few articles on the Internet and Nicole’s dismissive comments hadn’t prepared him for Claire. As she talked about life on tour, he realized he’d asked a world-famous pianist to be his babysitter.

“Who are you?” he asked, without meaning to speak the question aloud.

“What?”

“You don’t belong here. In the real world.”

“But I like the real world. That other place isn’t very fun.”

He couldn’t begin to understand her life. What it would be like to go from city to city, performing at a level only a handful of people could reach.

“I want to fit in,” she added. “I’m trying to be like everyone else.”

“Don’t lower your standards.”

“I don’t think I’m better. I’m just different. I want to be less different.”

She was beautiful, he thought absently. When had she gotten so beautiful? Amy said she looked like Barbie. He was willing to admit she had the long blond hair and even longer legs, but there was little about her that reminded him of a girl’s toy. She was all woman and he liked that. He liked her. When had she stopped being the evil ice princess?

“Why don’t you order the wine,” he said. “Go crazy. We’ll both try something new.”

She smiled with obvious delight. “Are you sure? I can be very free with money.”

“I’m good.”

Marcellin returned and they had a lengthy discussion in French about different wines. Claire flipped pages in the wine book and pointed. Finally they agreed on a local boutique winery he’d never heard of. The waiter appeared and they ordered their dinner. When they were finally alone, she leaned toward him and smiled.

“Did I already thank you for asking me out?”

There was something about that smile—an invitation that made him want to lean close and kiss her. He’d liked kissing Claire. He wouldn’t mind doing a lot more. But a nagging voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he had to make sure they were playing by the same rules.

“You did.”

The wine arrived. They went through the ceremony of tasting and approving. When the sommelier had left, Wyatt asked, “Has Drew been back to the house?”

“Not that I know of. I still can’t decide if I feel badly about hurting him or not.”

“Don’t bother. He’s healing. Pain and suffering might help his character.”

“He’s your stepbrother?”

“One of many.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Big family?”

“One that’s constantly changing. I come from a long line of men who screw up relationships. Most of my uncles haven’t been married and the few that have are going for the land speed record for divorces. My dad recently remarried. It’s his fifth. Drew’s my stepbrother from two or three marriages ago. I can’t remember which one.”

Claire looked a little startled. “What about your mom?”

“She found someone decent. They’ve been together about twenty-five years. But not my dad. I give this one six months.” He leaned toward her.

“The problem with him is he keeps trying. He thinks he’s something he’s not—a man capable of choosing the right woman.”

“It could happen.”

“Not likely. We have screwed up relationship biology. I wasn’t going to get married. Figured I’d try to stop the train wreck before it happened.”

“You married Shanna.”

“She got pregnant. I didn’t have a choice.”

Claire tilted her head. “Actually you did. You could have not married her and still been a part of Amy’s life.”

“Marriage seemed to be the right thing to do. At the time.”

“Because you do the right thing.”

Somehow the conversation wasn’t going in the direction he wanted. “I’m not the hero here.”

“Why not? Shanna’s the one who left. Was it right after Amy was born?”

“Within a couple of months, after we confirmed she couldn’t hear. I didn’t mind being a single father. I guess I half expected Shanna to bolt, what with my family history.” He met her gaze and held it. “You’re missing the point, Claire. I don’t do relationships. I’m glad we’re going out and I’m having a good time, but that’s all this is to me. Casual fun. Sex would be good, but I don’t get involved. I don’t do serious.”

He shrugged. “I might be putting all this out there for nothing. I don’t know if you’re interested. But if you are, I want to be clear about what I’m willing to do and not do.”

Her blue eyes widened. “You want to have sex with me?” Her voice was low and breathless.

“Is that all you got from what I said?”

“No, I got the rest of it. You’re warning me off, for my own good. I totally understand that. But you really want to sleep with me?”

“Why is that a surprise?”

Because no one ever wanted to, Claire thought, lacing her fingers together tightly in her lap so she wouldn’t give in to the need to clap her hands in delight. Wyatt wanted her. Her!

He was a pretty macho, good-looking guy. He could probably have anyone he wanted and he wanted her! Could this day get any better?

She wanted to ask him to repeat the statement again, maybe with a few details thrown in. Like when he’d decided she was sexy and did he plan to make his move anytime soon? But she found herself feeling nervous and shy and went for a safer topic.

“I’m not surprised, exactly. Tell me about Amy’s hearing loss. She was born with it?”

“That’s the theory. She has a small amount of hearing in one ear and almost none in the other. Hearing aids help, but they’re far from perfect. Even with all the medical advances.”

“Like what?”

“They can tune digital hearing aids to the specific hearing loss. Whether it’s high tones or low tones.”

“What about other treatments? Could she get a cochlear implant?”

“It’s possible.” He sipped his wine. “The current surgeries require the inner ear to be destroyed for the implant. Which means if some better technology comes up, it can’t be used. There’s a lot of debate in the deaf community about them.”

She hadn’t known that. “You decided not to go in that direction?”

“For now. Amy hasn’t pushed. I want something better. I want her to hear.” He shrugged. “A very unpopular opinion and one I wouldn’t say to a lot of people. For some, being deaf isn’t considered a handicap. It simply… is. Like height. I don’t agree. I want my daughter to have every advantage. I’m not convinced the implant gives her that.”

“You have a lot to deal with.”

“Amy has more.”

He was a good dad, she thought happily. A good man. Not that she had a huge frame of reference, but she didn’t think she was wrong about Wyatt.

“Spike was asking about you.”

She looked up and met his gaze. There was humor in his eyes.

“Very funny,” she told him. “I’m not interested in Spike.”

“You were.”

Not in the way he meant. She was excited that someone had asked her out. “I don’t meet a lot of men like him in my travels.”

“There’s a surprise. You probably don’t meet a lot of guys like me, either.”

“No, I don’t,” she said slowly, thinking that was a real pity. Guys like Wyatt were worth knowing.

DINNER PASSED in a blur of great conversation and laughter. Before Claire realized it, they were back at Nicole’s house, walking to the front door.

Claire told herself not to be nervous. That the end of the evening was no big deal. Sure, Wyatt would probably kiss her and she would probably like it. Kissing at the end of a date was an age-old tradition.

But she’d never been on a real date before. Not one that involved a guy picking her up where she lived and then driving her home. She’d gone out in foreign cities, meeting at a restaurant or joining a group. Nothing about her life was the least bit traditional.

They reached the front porch. Claire did her best not to look as tense as she felt. She also avoided pressing a hand to her suddenly writhing stomach.

“I had a really great time,” she murmured, finding it difficult to look into Wyatt’s dark eyes. “Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” He raised his hand to her face and lightly touched her cheek. “I can’t figure you out.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I’ll have to let you know.”

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

His mouth was sure against hers, claiming her with a confidence that took her breath away. There was no wondering, no indecision, just flesh on flesh, breath mingling and her heart pounding about a million beats a minute.

She put one hand on his shoulder, while he cupped her face with both hands. He held her as though she was precious, which made her want to give him whatever he asked for.

He didn’t deepen the kiss, probably because they were standing on Nicole’s porch, in view of the neighbors. Not that she cared, but he might. Then he drew back just enough to lean his forehead against hers.

“You’re going to be a lot of trouble, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I’m actually very easy to get along with.”

“Sure.”

He kissed her again, then he was gone. Claire sighed, then floated into the house.

Nicole sat in the great room, watching TV. When she saw Claire, she muted the sound.

“I see I don’t have to ask how things went,” she said. “You had a great time.”

Claire crossed the room and sank onto the edge of the large, sectional sofa. “I did. He’s wonderful. We went to Buchanans. Have you been there?”

“Yes. It’s expensive. He was trying to impress you.”

“Really?” Wyatt wanting to impress her?

“Why are you surprised?” Nicole asked.

“I just am. Are you mad?”

“No. One of us should have a decent love life and that one is obviously not going to be me. So, come on. Details. I want details.”

Claire curled up and pulled a pillow against her chest. “It was great. We talked and laughed. He’s easy to be with.” She grinned. “He wants to have sex with me.”

Nicole winced. “I need to have a talk with that man.”

“Why?” It was amazing news.

“Because saying that is just plain tacky. And you’re my sister.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Uh-huh. Just be careful. Wyatt doesn’t do relationships.”

“He said that.”

“At least he was honest. How do you feel about this?”

Claire considered the question. “I like him. I just hope he was telling the truth about the sex.”

Nicole laughed. “He’s a guy. Why would he lie about that?”

As if Claire knew the answer to that. “So he wasn’t being polite?”

“On what planet are men polite about sex? Is it different in the music world?”

“Not exactly. At least I don’t think so. I really don’t have a lot of experience with… you know.”

Nicole frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Um, well, men.” Claire held the pillow in front of her face, then dropped it. “I’ve never done that. Been with one.”

She felt herself blushing and wanted to crawl in a hole. Unfortunately she couldn’t escape the truth so easily.

Nicole’s mouth dropped open as her eyes widened. “You’re kidding. You’re a virgin?”

“Sort of.”

“It’s really a yes or no question. Claire, you’re twenty-eight.”

“I know. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. I never dated much. I couldn’t get away from my schedule. I never met anyone and when I did, Lisa was always prepared to make sure things didn’t get too interesting. God forbid I should meet a man and stop playing the piano. I was busy and while I wanted a relationship, it just got more and more difficult to schedule anyone in. Then one day I realized I was in my twenties and I’d become a freak.”

“You’re not a freak,” Nicole told her. “You’re… you’re… sexually challenged.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds better.”

“It’s not a horrible thing.”

“It is for me. It makes me feel like I’m not real. That I’m only part of a person.”

“It’s amazing,” Nicole murmured. “You’re so beautiful and successful. I would think you’d have men hanging all over you.”

“I wish. I seem to scare them off. Not Wyatt, though. So when he said he wanted to have sex with me, I thought maybe it would finally happen.”

Nicole swore. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“No, and you’re not going to tell him.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start. A virgin. Wow.”

Claire grimaced. “Stop saying that.”

“Sure. I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“Shocked.”

“A little, but not in a bad way. Look, I don’t have personal experience, but I’m sure Wyatt is great in bed. If you don’t tell him, he won’t know to go slowly, but I don’t think that’s a problem. I’m sure he’s very considerate. You could hint that you don’t have a lot of experience. Jeez. I almost wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out the truth.”

Claire didn’t know if she should appreciate Nicole’s honesty or hit her in the arm. “You’re not helping.”

“Again, I’m sorry. I’m just dealing with this. Here I thought you were having all the fun.”

“Not that kind.”

“I guess.” Nicole smiled. “Got any questions?”

Claire laughed. “About a thousand.”

“Fire away.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

CLAIRE PULLED into the side parking lot at Amy’s school, then turned off the engine. “Are you sure?” she asked, speaking directly at the girl.

Amy nodded and smiled. “I want you to meet my teacher.”

There was some signing that Claire didn’t catch, but she understood the major point of the conversation. Amy had mentioned her at school. Claire hoped the topic had been more about how fun she was and not about anything significant… like the fact that she was a concert pianist.

Claire still hadn’t figured out how she was going to deal with her “other” life. Walk away completely? Until she got her panic under control, did she have a choice? People came to see her play, not have a total breakdown. While the writhing and screaming might have some minor interest the first time around, it would quickly get boring. None of which had anything to do with Amy.

“I’d love to meet your teacher,” Claire told the girl.

Amy led the way through the bright and open school. There were wide corridors and skylights. Big signs reminded students that hearing aids were required to be worn in classrooms. That and the students signing with each other were the only indications this school was different from any other Claire had been in.

Amy led the way to the main office where she asked the woman behind the desk to get her teacher.

“They have a meeting every Tuesday,” Amy said, speaking slowly. “They should be done now.”

A meeting? As in more than one person in a room?

Claire told herself not to worry. That Amy would call her teacher over, they’d be introduced and it would be over in a matter of seconds. No biggie. But couldn’t Wyatt have asked her to take Amy to school on a nonmeeting day?

A dozen or so adults filed out of a room behind the main counter. Amy waved and began signing at the speed of light. Her proficiency reminded Claire that her signing still had a way to go before it even got close to being basic.

A woman in her midthirties walked toward them. “Hi,” she said as she signed. “Amy, it’s good to see you. Who did you bring with you today?”

“My friend, Claire,” Amy said. “This is my teacher, Mrs. Olive.”

Claire smiled. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’ve been looking after Amy while visiting my sister.”

“I heard about Nicole’s surgery,” Mrs. Olive said as she signed. “How is she doing?”

“Better,” Claire signed, feeling awkward and slow. She was really going to have to get better at the whole deaf communication thing.

Amy tugged on her teacher’s sleeve. “Claire plays piano. She played for me. It was beautiful.”

Mrs. Olive looked at Claire. “That’s great. A lot of hearing people assume the deaf can’t appreciate music, but that’s not true. There are a lot of…” She blinked. “Oh my gosh! Are you? You couldn’t be. Are you Claire Keyes?”

Claire stifled a groan as she nodded.

“I have a couple of your CDs. I love your music. I saw you on PBS. I can’t believe it.” She turned to the other teachers still in the area. “Sarah, you’ll never guess. This is Claire Keyes, the famous pianist.”

The other women hurried over and introduced themselves. Claire found herself answering questions.

“Yes, I do travel all over the world,” she admitted. “It’s a lot more work than you’d think.”

“Still,” one of them said. “You’re so lucky. Have you really played with those singers? The three tenors?”

Claire nodded. “They’re charming men.”

“I can’t believe this. A world-famous musician—at our school!”

The crowd increased. Claire grabbed Amy’s hand to keep her close. Mrs. Olive continued to sign the conversation so the girl could follow. She seemed to be doing it unconsciously.

An older woman joined them. “I’m Mrs. Freeman, the principal. What a pleasure, Ms. Keyes.”

Claire shook hands with her. “The pleasure is mine.”

Mrs. Freeman touched Amy’s head. “She’s one of our favorite students. So smart and motivated.”

Claire smiled at Wyatt’s daughter. “She’s pretty special,” she said.

Amy beamed.

“We’ve all heard about you,” Mrs. Freeman continued, “But we didn’t understand exactly who you were. Would it be too much to ask you to play for us?”

Too much? Those weren’t the words Claire would have used. Bone-chillingly horrible was a better choice.

“I know you’re on vacation,” the principal continued. “It’s just most of us will never have the opportunity to hear you play live.”

They weren’t alone, Claire thought, fighting the need to throw up. Until she conquered her fears, no one was going to hear her play live ever again.

“I, ah…”

She looked at all the teachers staring at her. They were so excited and hopeful.

“H-how many people are we talking about?” Claire asked cautiously.

“Just a few of the teachers and some students.”

She could handle the students, she thought. It was the adults that made her nervous.

She wanted to tell them no. She wanted to bolt for the car and never look back. She wanted to not be afraid anymore.

It was the last one that got her attention. Not being afraid would be a miracle. She knew she’d made some progress—she could now work at the bakery without having a panic attack. She’d conquered driving. But did any of it matter if she couldn’t play the piano?

“Only a few people,” she said reluctantly. “I’m ah, resting, and I don’t want to have to deal with a large crowd.”

Mrs. Freeman clapped her hands together. “Of course. How wonderful. Absolutely. Shall we say two-thirty this afternoon? In our music room. There’s seating in there for about thirty.”

Claire nodded. “Sure. I’ll be back.”

She crouched down and smiled at Amy. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Amy nodded, then hugged her. Claire hugged her back, feeling an uncomfortable combination of affection and terror.

NICOLE WENT UP the stairs without holding on to the railing but mostly dragging herself. Progress, she thought. At least she was making progress. She wasn’t supposed to go back to work for another couple of weeks but she could probably pop into the bakery on Thursday or Friday.

She missed her life. While she appreciated that the surgery had gotten rid of the pain in her stomach, it hadn’t done anything for the pain in her heart. That still burned hot, like a fresh wound.

“Don’t think about it,” she told herself aloud, wishing she’d asked Claire to stop at the grocery store and pick up a movie. Anything that could be a distraction. Because the alternative was to sit in the house missing and hating Drew and Jesse in equal measures.

She heard Claire’s car in the driveway. Seconds later her sister burst into the house. She was pale and wild-eyed.

“I have to play,” she said as she headed for the stairs. “I have to play. I said yes. What was I thinking? I can’t do this. It’s too soon. I’m never going to get better. I should just face it. I can work in retail, right? Like the bakery. Do people make much doing that?”

Claire raced up to the second floor and dashed into her room. Nicole followed her. By the time she’d made it to the landing, she could see Claire kneeling on the floor flipping through what looked like hundreds and hundreds of pages of sheet music. Who traveled with sheet music?

“What are you talking about?” she asked Claire glanced up at her. “Amy’s school. She told her teacher I play piano. She put it together with my name. The principal asked me to play for a few of the teachers. Today.”

She flipped through dozens of pages, looking at them once and flinging them over her shoulder. One fluttered to Nicole’s feet.

She looked at it, at what looked like thousands of notes. How could anyone make sense of that?

“What’s the big deal?” Nicole asked. “You play all the time.”

Claire sat back on her heels. “Wyatt didn’t tell you?”

“Didn’t tell me what?”

Claire rolled onto her butt, then dropped her head to her hands. She hated having to confess the truth to her überpractical, confident sister. “I’ve been having panic attacks when I play. It started a few years ago. I faked a panic attack to get Lisa off my back. But somehow I lost control and instead of me controlling them, they’re controlling me.”