8
LEIGHTON MITCHELL
Scarlett and I are sitting on the living room couch. It’s approaching noon, and she’s just taken her midday bottle. Miss prissy pants will be knocked out for her nap at any minute. And as much as I adore her, I look forward to thisme timeeach day.
I hear the sound of River’s guitar carrying from his studio on the other side of the house. He’s left the door open again. It’s been a month, and he still forgets that we’re here. But it’s fine. Scarlett is soothed by the sound of her daddy’s music.
River is taking advantage of this time off of the road to write again. I obviously don’t know how he is when he’s on the road, but being here working in his studio seems to make him happy.
Scarlett dozes off, and I take her to her crib. I already know that I have ninety-five minutes to myself until she’s up again. One good thing about Miss prissy pants and me… we have our daily routines down pat.
There’s a new sound coming from River’s studio—a piano—and I’m drawn to it. I’m dying to know if it’s him playing it or if I’m hearing a recording.
I stop inside the studio door and admire the way that River looks sitting at the black grand piano: his taut T-shirt stretching over his powerful chest and back, his muscular outstretched arms, his big hands moving over the keys. I see this man every day, and I swear to God that I think he gets better looking by the day.
Chills erupt over my entire body when he begins singing a song that I’ve never heard.
As I pull you close to me tonight
I want you to know that
Our love is so perfect and true
And I don’t want to live a single day without you
Now that you’re mine to have and hold
I’ll never let you go
He notices me standing in the doorway, and his deep chocolate brown eyes connect with my steel blue ones. He hits a bad key and stops playing, a huge smile spreading over his face. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to hear how beautiful that song is. Please don’t stop on my account.”
“Do you like it?” The hopeful anticipation that I see in his eyes reminds me of a child looking for praise.
“I didn’t hear much, but I loved the few lines that I did hear.”
“Scarlett is down?”
“She is.”
He pats the bench next to him. “Come sit with me. We’ll sing it together.”
I go to the piano and sit beside him on the bench. “How am I supposed to sing with you when I don’t know the song?”
He points to the sheet music on the piano. “Lyrics are right there.”
“I don’t know the music.”
He plays several notes. “Very easy melody to pick up on.”
“Says the musician.”
He plays the notes again and points to the lyrics. “I’ll pick up with the chorus right here, and you can join in when you have a feel for it.”
You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted
The only one I’ll ever need