Page 26 of The Mouse and the Maestro

Jane opened the door wider. “What’s that?”

“I say no when I mean yes.”

“That’s a big problem,” Jane agreed.

“Practically a disability. It’s cost me money, jobs, fame, and tonight it cost me the chance to spend a few extra minutes with this woman I had an amazing evening with.”

“Yikes,” Jane said. “Well, good night.” She started to close the door, but he put his hand on it, pressing it back.

“Maybe you could help me try to overcome my malady,” Blue suggested.

Jane paused. “Maybe, but only because you said malady. I’m a sucker for good vocabulary. What can I do?”

“You could try asking me to come in again,” he said.

“With the coffee this time?” she asked.

“Skip the coffee,” he said.

“Would you like to come in for a bit?”

“So much yes,” he said, stepping inside and bending to kiss her in one swift motion. Jane stood on her toes and slid her arms around his neck, completely forgetting she was now in her pajamas. The door clicked softly closed behind him, and he took another step into the room, maintaining his hold on her.

They were in a hotel room, far from home, and the kiss began to reflect that, growing and morphing into dangerous territory in seconds. Jane’s phone rang and, after a few beats, she put a hand on his chest and took a step back.

“I have to get that, hold on.” She dashed for the bed, dropped the phone, and ran into the nightstand on her way to pick it up. “Ouch, hello. Yes, Dad, I’m fine. I hit my head on the nightstand. Just being clumsy, you know me. No, it’s not too late. No, I was still up. Yes, I know I should probably be asleep. How are you? How’s Mom? Mm, hmm. Mm, hmm. Good. Right. I know, I will. I love you, too.” She was now perched on the edge of the bed. She pushed the button to end the call and set the phone back on the nightstand.

Blue stood a few feet away watching her with no small amount of satisfaction. She looked ruffled and flustered, her usually perfect hair slightly askew, her lips raw and red from his kisses. “That was your dad?” he asked.

“Yes. He only calls every few days to check in, but if I don’t answer, he kind of freaks out. Sorry to cut off in the middle of,” she motioned between them, “you know.”

“It’s okay.” He sank onto the bed beside her, a safe six inches away. “It was probably for the best. Things seemed to be spiraling out of control.”

“Definitely,” she agreed.

“I should probably go,” he said.

“That’s probably for the best. Can I say one thing before you leave?”

“What’s that?” he asked.

She bridged the distance between them and pressed her lips to his neck. He drew in a breath. “You make a good point with that,” he said, his voice shaky. “Do I have time for a rebuttal?”

“Take all the time you need,” she said.

He reached for her, pulling her close so he could kiss her again. Her arms snaked around his neck again, and she sat up on her knees to reach him better until they both eventually sank back onto the bed, side by side.

“Blue,” she whispered, the pads of her fingers lightly touching his lips.

“What?” he whispered in return, his fingers stroking the side of her face.

“Nothing, I wanted to say your name.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said it,” he said.

“I know.”

“Why?”

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