“No, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said, smiling as she watched Adam. “Maybe once or twice a week. He doesn’t play all the time, but when he’s working on new stuff, he likes our input.”
Bianca suspected the truth was that the women simply enjoyed listening. She certainly did.
Warmth stirred deep in her abdomen and then rolled slowly through her, a quiet warning tick she couldn’t quite ignore. Adam’s smile, the easy way he held himself, the way the music seemed to flow out of him was more dangerous to her heart than she’d realized. The sound was romantic, and she wondered vaguely, maybe hopefully, that she’d inspired some of it.
She listened, completely entranced, losing herself in the low sound of his voice and the music he created. The hour slipped by almost without her noticing.
Finally, Adam finished the song and set the guitar aside as he stood. “I have to get back to work, ladies,” he said with a grin. “Thank you so much for dropping by. Any input?”
“Oh, Adam, it’s just lovely.” Mrs. Poppins clasped her hands together.
“I agree,” Mrs. Schiller added warmly. “I truly think you should record.”
Adam laughed and shook his head. “I’m not going to record.”
“I think you should,” Joan said smoothly. “If you want, I could help with that.”
Bianca just bet she could.
“All right, Joan, let’s go,” Mrs. Hudson said, tapping her arm lightly. “You stay here, Bianca. Have a nice chat with Adam.”
What a matchmaker. “Actually, I do need to speak with him,” Bianca admitted.
“Of course you do.” Mrs. Hudson gave her a quick hug. “Have a good day.” She winked at Adam, and the little group slowly made their way out the door, their voices drifting away onto the street.
The bar grew quiet again. Bianca looked across the room at Adam and then down at the empty glasses scattered across the table. Without thinking, she gathered them together in her hands and carried them over to the bar. “So you’re free entertainment, huh?”
Adam chuckled. “Yeah. We like getting together. Every once in a while it turns into a Mahjong game, but nobody brought their set today.”
Mahjong with elderly ladies. The thought made her smile. This guy had some surprising depths. She started rinsing the glasses in the sink.
“I can do that,” Adam said.
“No, I don’t mind,” she replied, drying one with a towel.
The quiet between them felt different now that the others were gone. The room still held the romance of the music he’d played, and Bianca could feel the steady pull of him standing so close.
“How was your morning?” he asked.
“Busy,” she murmured. “Not as fun as yours, though. You are really good,” she added, glancing up at him.
“Thank you.” He moved around the bar and stepped closer, reaching for her before she had time to react. His arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her gently toward him, brushing a kiss across her lips. “That’s the proper way to greet somebody.”
Her lungs stuttered. “You’re being proper now?”
“Ah,” he said lightly, “I have my moments.” His thumb brushed slowly along the side of her face, his expression shifting as he studied her. “What’s wrong?”
She blinked. “How could you tell something was wrong?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Gut feeling.” He cleared his throat. “I heard Ellen is looking for a partner in the florist shop.”
Bianca blinked. “Huh?” The change of subject caught her completely off guard.
“Yeah,” Adam said, shifting his weight. “I thought I’d mention it.”
“Oh.” She took a small step back, the damp glass still in her hand. “Adam, I don’t want to own a florist shop.” Was he trying to get her to stay in town? The idea was oddly sweet—and a little overwhelming.
“It was just a thought,” he said. “You enjoy flowers.”