obviously he was having a slow morning. "In return you're going to let me remodel the shed into my dance studio. Win-win, see?"
"No, I don't." He crossed his arms. "What do you know about writing music?"
"Absolutely nothing," she said happily. "But I understand movement and rhythm, and I have timing. I can do this."
"No, you really can't." He shook his head. "It's not going to help. This is what I do, and I'm having trouble coming up with anything that works. There's no way you'll be able to help me write anything."
"I'm not going to help you write. I'm going to inspire you."
"What do you know about being a muse?"
"As much as I know about writing music." She grinned. "But I'm sure I can read up on it on the Internet."
He rubbed his neck, studying her. "You're really serious," he said after a long pause.
"I am. This is as important to me as your music is to you. You're going to let me finish my project so I can open my dance studio." She held out her hand. "Shake on it."
He took her hand, but instead of shaking it he used it to tug her against him.
She gasped as she came in contact with the firm length of his body. "What are you doing?"
"Testing how inspiring you can be," he said as his mouth lowered to hers and he took her in a kiss.
Dancing on a Moonbeam
Part 2
To Jenn.
A friend is someone who offers sympathy when your life unexpectedly crumbles.
The very best of friends offers you her fire pit so you can burn your wedding dress on your anniversary.
Jenn is the very best of friends.
I love you.
Chapter 1
Even fairy tales couldn't do the kiss justice.
Snipping wheatgrass from her window planter box, Eleanor relived yesterday's kiss over again for the millionth time. She remembered the way Max had lowered his head to hers, his lips warm and firm, sure of what they were doing. It was the only place he'd touched her, but she'd felt him all over her body nonetheless.
Sighing, she leaned against the counter, hand to her chest. That kiss hadn't just opened her eyes, it had opened her heart. She wasn't sure how she felt about that yet. Historically, her heart hadn't been the most reliable source of wisdom. Hindsight made that loud and clear.
Looking back, Eleanor saw that there were signs that her husband wasn't the best man, even if she chose to ignore them. She'd been stupid, she scolded herself as she stuffed the wheatgrass into the juicer. She never should have given up dancing for him.
But she was rectifying the situation. Soon, the construction on the shed at the back of her house would be finished, and she'd start teaching ballet in her new dance studio. It wasn't the same as dancing herself, but it was the best she could expect to accomplish at forty-one years of age.
Which brought her to that kiss again, which sealed the deal she'd made with her temporary next-door neighbor.
Total mistake—the kiss and the deal. Shaking her head, she put a shot glass under the juicer and turned the machine on. She watched the bright green liquid trickle out and tried not to think about what she'd done.
Only that was impossible. She supposed making a deal with the devil would be hard to ignore, especially when the devil kissed like an angel.
"What are you doing?"
She startled, looking over her shoulder guiltily as her sixteen-year-old daughter sauntered into the kitchen.
Lily pointed to the counter. "You're dripping."
Eleanor looked down at the counter and saw the bright green juice had completely missed the glass. "Oh shit."
"I don't think you're supposed to curse in front of your child," her daughter said as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. "It sets a bad example."
"Any damage to you has already been done," Eleanor said as she wiped the counter. Turning around to throw away the paper towel, she froze as she really looked at Lily for the first time. "What are you wearing?"
"Clothes," the brat replied, taking a swig of the juice directly from
"No, I don't." He crossed his arms. "What do you know about writing music?"
"Absolutely nothing," she said happily. "But I understand movement and rhythm, and I have timing. I can do this."
"No, you really can't." He shook his head. "It's not going to help. This is what I do, and I'm having trouble coming up with anything that works. There's no way you'll be able to help me write anything."
"I'm not going to help you write. I'm going to inspire you."
"What do you know about being a muse?"
"As much as I know about writing music." She grinned. "But I'm sure I can read up on it on the Internet."
He rubbed his neck, studying her. "You're really serious," he said after a long pause.
"I am. This is as important to me as your music is to you. You're going to let me finish my project so I can open my dance studio." She held out her hand. "Shake on it."
He took her hand, but instead of shaking it he used it to tug her against him.
She gasped as she came in contact with the firm length of his body. "What are you doing?"
"Testing how inspiring you can be," he said as his mouth lowered to hers and he took her in a kiss.
Dancing on a Moonbeam
Part 2
To Jenn.
A friend is someone who offers sympathy when your life unexpectedly crumbles.
The very best of friends offers you her fire pit so you can burn your wedding dress on your anniversary.
Jenn is the very best of friends.
I love you.
Chapter 1
Even fairy tales couldn't do the kiss justice.
Snipping wheatgrass from her window planter box, Eleanor relived yesterday's kiss over again for the millionth time. She remembered the way Max had lowered his head to hers, his lips warm and firm, sure of what they were doing. It was the only place he'd touched her, but she'd felt him all over her body nonetheless.
Sighing, she leaned against the counter, hand to her chest. That kiss hadn't just opened her eyes, it had opened her heart. She wasn't sure how she felt about that yet. Historically, her heart hadn't been the most reliable source of wisdom. Hindsight made that loud and clear.
Looking back, Eleanor saw that there were signs that her husband wasn't the best man, even if she chose to ignore them. She'd been stupid, she scolded herself as she stuffed the wheatgrass into the juicer. She never should have given up dancing for him.
But she was rectifying the situation. Soon, the construction on the shed at the back of her house would be finished, and she'd start teaching ballet in her new dance studio. It wasn't the same as dancing herself, but it was the best she could expect to accomplish at forty-one years of age.
Which brought her to that kiss again, which sealed the deal she'd made with her temporary next-door neighbor.
Total mistake—the kiss and the deal. Shaking her head, she put a shot glass under the juicer and turned the machine on. She watched the bright green liquid trickle out and tried not to think about what she'd done.
Only that was impossible. She supposed making a deal with the devil would be hard to ignore, especially when the devil kissed like an angel.
"What are you doing?"
She startled, looking over her shoulder guiltily as her sixteen-year-old daughter sauntered into the kitchen.
Lily pointed to the counter. "You're dripping."
Eleanor looked down at the counter and saw the bright green juice had completely missed the glass. "Oh shit."
"I don't think you're supposed to curse in front of your child," her daughter said as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. "It sets a bad example."
"Any damage to you has already been done," Eleanor said as she wiped the counter. Turning around to throw away the paper towel, she froze as she really looked at Lily for the first time. "What are you wearing?"
"Clothes," the brat replied, taking a swig of the juice directly from
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