Page 39 of Stained Hearts
His eyes fluttered when he peered through those thick lashes. “Take me home.”
Chapter Ten
AIDEN WASasleep by the time we got back to my house, and I didn’t have the desire to wake him, so I pulled the van into the garage and went over to the passenger side.
“Oh, we’re here?” He sat up and yawned. “Sorry. I’m so tired for some reason.”
“It’s been a long day.” I slipped an arm under his legs, then slid the other behind his back. “Put your arm around me.” He did, and I lifted him up and out of the vehicle, then closed the door with my foot.
“What about the chair?”
“We’ll get it later. Hold on.”
He put his other arm around my neck and leaned against me. I was surprised by how well he fit in my arms, his body molded against mine. For a split second, I wondered what he’d say if I didn’t put him down but continued holding him. I knew I had to get him in, though, so reluctantly I took him up to the front door and keyed us in.
Aiden gaped when we stepped into the house. His gaze drifted through the room, resting at times on the natural stone fireplace, the thick chocolate-brown carpet, the leather sofa and love seat, plus the one thing that brought the whole living room together: a cascading wall of water, built into a dark wood panel in the center.
“That’s…. Wow. It puts my stained glass to shame.”
I set him down on the couch, then loomed over him. “Don’t do that. Your work is amazing. If it wasn’t, do you think I would have ordered one for my house? That was something we found in a shop somewhere. It was manufactured—one of thousands. What you do is unique. When it’s done, it’ll have a place of honor here. In fact, later on if you want, I’ll show you where it’s going to go.”
“I’d like that.” He twisted in his seat, taking in the open-air space. “Is that a loft?”
“It is.”
On the other side of the room was a dark cherrywood piano. It hadn’t been played in years. When Aiden saw it, his eyes lit up.
“Do you play?”
In answer, I went over and took a seat. I played a few scales, limbering up rusty fingers, and made a mental note to have the instrument tuned.
I smiled at Aiden, who sat enraptured. “Any requests?”
He snickered. “Chopsticks?”
“Smartass.” I let my mind drift to some of the pieces I knew by heart. “Try this one.”
It was a cliché selection, but I played the opening to “Piano Man” by Billy Joel. It had been one of the first songs I’d learned to play and was a personal favorite. When I got to the vocals, I was surprised when Aiden’s normally soft voice sang out, rich and clear. I looked over to where he sat there, swaying side to side, the words filled with emotion. Now it was my turn to be enraptured. He was a man of hidden talents. Unwilling to break the spell, I continued playing and he kept singing. When the last notes trailed away, he opened his eyes wide.
“You’ve got a beautiful voice.”
His cheeks pinked. “Don’t tell Livvy.”
That confused me. “Why wouldn’t you want her to know?”
He ducked his head. “Dad frowned on it. She told me to keep singing, and I refused, because I didn’t want any more problems at home. It would disappoint her to know that I still do it on occasion, because I won’t sing for her.”
“I think you should reconsider. If she enjoyed it half as much as me, I know how sad I’d be not to hear you sing again.”
And it was true. His voice evoked emotions I hadn’t explored in a long while.
I got up from the piano and went to where he sat. As soon as I took a seat next to him, he curled up to my side. I slipped an arm around his shoulders, and he put his head on my chest.
“What do you want to watch?”
He snuggled in more. “Nothing. Can we just sit here?”
“Alexa, play my light classical mix.” In a moment, music filled the room. “Is this okay?”
