Christmas Therapy

He set both of their hands on the keyboard. “The right hand plays the melody. See this note?”

Heather stared at the keyboard, spotting the middle white key. “This one?”

“That’s middle C.” He moved her finger to the next key. “Followed by D, E, F, G—”

“H?” She couldn’t resist teasing him.

Allen chuckled. “Not on this scale. Instead, there’s A, B, and C. That’s the key of C.”

He led their fingers back to C and played each note with her. Heather followed, hearing each key play.

“That’s the tone of scale,” he said.

His breath on her ear made her shiver. Did he notice?

“I see. So how would I play a song?”

He moved her finger to rest on three notes at a time. “This makes a basic chord.”

Heather smiled, biting at her lower lip. “You sure you don’t want to teach piano? I think you’ll clean up in this town.”

Allen chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re doing a great job with me,” Heather said.

“It’s different with you.”

She leaned into him. Did his breath hitch? Her body went still again, with her hand still underneath his on the keyboard.

Heather couldn’t help but ask. “Different with me?”

He sighed. “Everything’s different with you.”

He tilted his head to the side. His eyes yearning. He would kiss her. She could feel it in her bones.

“Allen! We need your help with the lights outside?” a male voice called out.

Heather winced as Allen straightened on his feet, removing his hand from hers. “Maybe we can finish this later.”

She gave a faint smile. “Sure.”

***

Allen spotted Desmond on the ladder as he handed him more lights. He kept the metal structure steady. The men kept their conversation to a minimum since Ms. Diana said she didn’t want them distracted. Allen laughed at the idea since he and Desmond could go on about ESPN.

He worked with the rest of the men, grateful he could do something for Heather. He saw her face lit from afar when she opened her front door. He heard the blasting of Christmas music and what made him laugh was him humming along to Bing Crosby’s “Let it Snow.”

Allen reminded himself he was only being a good neighbor. It was a thoughtful gesture, but when he saw her through the window with Terrance, his chest burned. He only knew the man for a short time after Desmond introduced them, but Allen’s stomach hardene

d.

Then he showed Heather a few things on the piano. He told her things were different with her. They were. It wasn’t a lie.

Walking beside her, did she sense his knees wobbling? He never thought a woman could fit in his embrace, but Heather fit him. Was that even possible? He didn’t know her. Could he base something between them on feelings alone?

Allen didn’t want to repeat those mistakes, but she was different. Heather Shaw affected him in ways he never experienced before. She respected him. What man didn’t appreciate that? Even if she said things out of turn, she wasn’t too proud to apologize.

He thought standing behind her at the keyboard was a good idea, but it only worsened the situation. He leaned in closer to show her a few notes, only to breathe in her essence. Then she turned only to graze his cheek with her supple skin. He lost his sense of time.