Page 34 of Swan

I doubted it.

But maybe with time.

“I have an important question, Swan.”

“What?”

“What kind of music do you listen to?”

Laughing, I rolled my eyes. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t missed an album from you. You’ll always be my favourite.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes. Which songs of yours do you love the most?”

His whole face lit up before he started telling me about the music that really meant something to him. I loved hearing him talk, watching his hands move around when he played the invisible guitar.

He really did love his job.

While he said he hated the spotlight and just needed to create and sing without all the other business, I needed to make sure that was what he really wanted.

The waiter arrived with our food, and while we ate, he asked me about working at the library.

It was my turn to tell him all the things I loved doing there. Especially when I ran Kids’ Corner every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. That was where I got to read to the babies and children under the age of four.

If I had to read aloud in front of anyone else, I wouldn’t be able to do it. But with the kids, I loved seeing how rapt they were with the stories I picked.

I placed my fork in the empty bowl and smiled. “Sorry, I tend to ramble.”

He winked. “Never apologise, Swanny. I love listening to you. Besides, you heard me going on and on about music.”

“I’ve always liked your voice,” I admitted to the table.

When his hand settled over mine, I looked up and caught him staring down at our hands. He met my stare. “I like this.”

“What?”

“That I can touch you in a way a boyfriend would with his girlfriend.” He leaned towards me. “And I can kiss you now, too, right?”

I nodded. “Anytime,” I breathed.

Our lips touched just when someone said, “Sorry to interrupt.”

My phone rang in that moment too. I pulled it out to glance at the screen.

“It’s Dad,” I said. I stood and took a step back. “I’ll see what he needs.”

Lockland smiled and nodded, turning his attention to the waiter.

There were two sharp bangs from outside. I looked out the windows and saw people running and screaming.

What in the world?

Confused, I drew my brows down as I answered, “Hi, Dad, what’s?—”

“Tell me you’re not at Jackson’s with Lockland,” he ordered, seeming almost out of breath. I heard voices in the background and car doors being slammed.

“Why?” I asked on a whisper as the fear slammed into me.

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