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once a home.  She could tellthis was hard for him.  He had told her before that he only came up here to mowthe lawn.  She didn’t know the last time he had been inside.

Devon reached out and placed herhand in his own.  She squeezed gently, just letting him know she was there.  Shewas there for him, just like he had always been there for her.

“I should have had someone come inhere to clean beforehand,” he said wistfully.  It should have been the lastthing on his mind, but the only thing he could concentrate on.

Devon didn’t even notice that thehouse needed to be cleaned.  She was too busy admiring the house itself withits massive high-vaulted ceilings, enormous fully furnished living room with afireplace, and the twelve-person dining room table with antique china held in anearby glass cabinet.  The foyer opened to a spiral staircase, leading to abalcony upstairs.  And that was just the view from the entranceway.  Devoncouldn’t imagine what else lay beyond.

“It’s beautiful, Brennan,” shesaid, awestruck.  She had been raised in a big house, but this was Brennan’shouse.  It felt different.

“Thanks.  My dad really caredabout the place.  He took good care of it after my mom left.  I guess I was inthe fifth grade when that happened,” he said with a shrug.  “The house was toobig for just the two of us.  I think he wanted more kids, but he loved my momtoo much to remarry.”

“Is that why she thought he wouldleave her money?” she asked softly.  She would have never asked that before,but now, she felt it was better just to get her questions out of the way.

Brennan faced her with a smile. “I think so.  I’m glad he didn’t leave her anything though.  She didn’t lovehim anymore.  She didn’t deserve it.”

“No, probably not.” Devon wrappedher arms around his middle and held on to him tightly.  “I’m so sorry aboutyour dad.”

“Me, too, Belle.”

He kissed the top of her head,and he let her hold him until they both had their emotions back under control.

“Come on, I’ll give you a tour ofthe house, but first, I want to show you something.”

He took her hand in his andwalked them down a long hallway.  Devon peeked into an open door on the leftand saw a kitchen that was bigger than Brennan’s apartment in the city.  It hadall dark cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances.  Devongawked as she passed.

They entered into a sunroom framedwith full-length glass windows.  The entire room stretched out to the length ofthe house.  It opened up onto an adjoining balcony that had wicker rockingchairs and a porch swing.  The balcony had a set of stairs that led down to acovered rectangular pool.  Beyond that was the entire expanse of Lake Michigan.

“Oh my God,” she gasped.

“Pretty nice view, right?” heasked.

“Pretty nice?” she stuttered,turning to face him.

He was already staring at her.

Brennan dropped his guitar caseon the porch, and then he bent down and kissed her, crushing her to him.  Hislips were hot on her.  She threw her hand around his neck with abandon.  Allher thoughts stilled, and there was only the two of them.  She was lost to therest of the world, and for once, that was the right way to be.

They kissed like that until Devonpulled away.  Breathless, her chest rose and fell heavily, and when he smiled,her insides ignited.

Grasping her hand again, hepicked his guitar case back up, directed her down the set of stairs, around thepool, and down a large set of stairs to the shoreline.  She kicked off hersandals before she sank her feet into the dark sand.

“Thanks for coming with me.”  Heset his guitar case on the last step and then took a seat next to it.

Devon sat down on the step andstared out at the beautiful backdrop.  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“I, uh…wanted to try something,”he said, “if you’ll humor me.”

He reached for his guitar case,unlatched the lock, and pulled the guitar out of the container.  It was thesame one he had played on the night of his open mic performance.  He hadanother one that he usually played at home, but she liked this one better.  Hepicked at the strings and adjusted them until they were in tune.  She watchedhis hands strum the guitar with precision.  She had never thought she would beinterested in a musician.  She tended to steer clear of them, but as witheverything else, Brennan was different.

Brennan started humming the finalsong that he had played at the show, “Moving Forward.”  She had heard it dozensof times over the last three weeks, and she knew all the words.  Now, it madeher heart happy rather than sad.  He had known her pain even before she hadallowed him in.  That kind of chemistry and intuition astounded her.

He paused in the song, but he lethis fingers continue to pick out the tune.  “Will you do me a favor?

Devon nodded.

“Take the higher octave on thechorus?”

Devon stared at him.  Hewanted her to sing?  She hadn’t let herself sing anywhere, except the carand the shower, in years.  She wasn’t even sure if she still had a good voice. Music called to her but in lyric form only.  She wasn’t an artist.

She shook her head.  “No,Brennan, I don’t sing.”

He smiled like he didn’t believeher.  “Humor me.  No one else can hear you out here.”

Devon looked around theshoreline.  He was right.  No one else was outside right now.  The house wasempty, practically deserted, and only the lake was before her.  Still, shecould hear herself.

“What if I sound terrible?” shewhispered.

“Then, I’ll make fun of you, andwe can try again,” he said with a laugh.

She rolled her eyes at him beforeshe turned back to face the lake.  She breathed in and out, letting the aircalm her nerves.  Her eyes closed just as he picked up the chorus once more. His smooth voice filled her ears softly, like he was waiting for her toharmonize with him.  She could sense that he was about to stop, so she dug upthe courage to join him.

Her voice was shaky at first. She didn’t use it enough anymore.  But

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