Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

“Tonight, we’re going to play a game.” Jean-Pierre pulled out a silk blindfold from his pocket. “Do you trust me?”

I didn’t like the idea of being blindfolded, but with Jean-Pierre, I could do anything. With him, I was safe.

“Okay.” I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

He took his time, placing the silk blindfold over my eyes and then he kissed my lips. “I hope you love the surprise.”

“I will. I always do.”

Darkness served as my view. I remained comforted in the feel of Jean-Pierre, as he slipped his hands along my arm, sending delicious shivers through me.

He kissed me and whispered, “Have I told you how gorgeous you are this evening?”

“Yes.”

“I doubt, I said it enough.”

“You always do.”

“Your stunning.” He devoured my mouth. My arousal wet my panties. I groaned as our tongues twisted and filled the silence.

Minutes passed.

We kissed and made out.

Then, I felt the limo’s movement stop as it must’ve parked.

Where are we? What is my Jean-Pierre doing now?

With him, it could be anything. There were no limits to what he could and would do for me. I just hoped I could give him as much.

Our baby moved into its usual position, probably getting comfortable for a nice rest.

Jean-Pierre helped me out of the limo, since I couldn’t see. I focused on my other senses and inhaled the salty air. Ocean waves roared around me.

We’re at the beach.

“Take off your shoes, reine. Someone will grab them.” He held my hand while I slipped each one off. Sand smoothed against my feet. A cool ocean breeze brushed my shoulders.

Yes. Definitely the beach.

I beamed, loving it. I’d told him many times that the beach was my favorite place so far.

He held my hand and guided me forward.

What are we going to do here?

Barefoot in the sand, I walked with him for at least five minutes. He said nothing the whole time. My heart beats increased.

And then, we stopped.

He whispered, “There’s three steps. I’ll guide you up each one.”

“Steps?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I thought I was at our beach.”

“Stop trying to guess.”

“How could I not?” I giggled as I walked up the three steps and then moved forward. The surface was smooth, but I still couldn’t get an indicator, of what I was walking on.

Okay. Where the hell are we?

After a few feet of walking, he said again. “There’s one more step.”

“O-kay.” I climbed.

Someone giggled off in the distance.

Who was that?

It was definitely a female and someone familiar. Another hushed them. I swore I caught a little chatter off in the distance. I tensed.

Relax. Of course others are out here. It’s probably our staff.

“Okay. Stay right here.” He tried to let my hand go.

“Say what?” Terror hit me. “Where are you going?”

He kept his voice low. “Don’t worry. I’m right next to you. I just need both of my hands.”

So spoiled with him, I frowned. “Why do you need both of your hands?”

He chuckled and let me go. “You’ll see.”

“Will I?”

The blindfold was still on. And I no longer had his hand. Thank God, I continued to feel his presence around me. It was so powerful and imposing, I felt comfortable. And then movement sounded in front of me. I jumped a little. Whatever was going on, it had happened in unison and was made by a lot of people.

Tensing, I held my hands out to the side.

What. The. Hell? How many people are around us?

And then I got my answer.

Music filled the air. The beginning of some heroic piece. There was a lovely lyrical theme. The soft melody of a violin. And then several violins swooped in accompanying. A double bass boomed.

Holy shit. How many musicians did he get?

A piano came next. Then several cellos. And then all the other musicians played together at once.

Jesus!

I broke down each instrument. Flutes and piccolos. Oboes and bass clarinets. English and French horns. And I knew the song. Of course I knew the song.

Strauss’s Sonata.

Each note twirled and danced in the air. My fingers shook, not from fear. It was because I was so consumed with emotion, so blown away by him.

Because even beyond the song being ingrained in him. Even beyond the fact that he made it his life, to play this song during the major moments of his life. Even beyond the expense and enormous logistics it would’ve taken for him to get an orchestra out on the beach, playing the sonata masterfully in the moonlight.

It was something else that had my heartbeats increasing. My blood flowing. Tears streaming down my cheeks. It was another fact completely, that had an overwhelming feeling of love absorbing any fear that ever lingered in my heart.

There was a familiarity to the notes, not just because I knew the song by heart from practicing it for Jean-Pierre.

But. . .

I know the players. Oh my God. Jean-Pierre, did you really do this?

I wiped my tears with shaking fingers.