Page 73 of The Troll’s Summer Flame

Andrea strokes my hair and doesn’t seem to care that a big, strong troll is acting like a bawling, sniveling baby. I cried once in front of my mother—and never did it again. I nearly lost an eye from that beating.

Her voice is soft, and her hands are gentle. “What if it’s good? What if it’s a good thing? Your brother following in your footsteps? I bet he was coming to find you, but he got attacked by a succubus and scared off. He’s probably still nearby. We can take the truck out and find him as soon as Alban calls.”

“I don’t... I don’t know. Once I find him... You most certainly cannot come with me to look for him. He could be dangerous.” And he could have my other brothers with him. My mother. Why would they do that?

A tiny part of me hopes for a miracle. I try to think of good reasons. They’ve all changed their ways. They want to live a new, peaceful, happy life. They’ve come to me to show them the way.

I don’t think God would give me two miracles in the space of one month—not a beautiful new family and an old, redeemed family. I hug my arms around her waist, burying my face in her hip. “I’m doing that thing. People say it.”

“Sweetie, I need more than that,” Andrea whispers, fingers threading steadily through my hair, gently tracing my jaw.

She still calls me sweetie. Honey. Babe. She’s nothing but love and energy, my Andrea. “All my thoughts are circling. One minute, they’re positive, the next, terrible. I can’t turn them off.”

“Spiraling?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay. Time to stop the spiral. You can’t just keep thinking in a circle. You’re torturing yourself. So... It’s time for a piano lesson.”

“Oh, Andrea. My love, I don’t think—”

“I think. I know. Music heals. It distracts.”

Gordon’s hands rest alongside mine. The only way we both fit on the piano bench is if I sit in his lap, and that was part of my distraction plan. “We’re going to use the Basics for Older Beginners book. It moves quickly, which is good because you’re so smart.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You know that, don’t you?”

Gordon snorts, and I pinch his thigh. “You are so smart, Gordon. You learn incredibly fast, and that’s a gift that a lot of people lose as adults. Some never even had it to begin with.” I caress his hands and move them into position. “Let’s look at the staff and learn the lines, first. Then, the spaces.”

Gordon hums happily under his breath when we make music together. The humming turns to a low groan of relief when I slide back between his thighs, butt wriggling more firmly against his crotch. “E-G-B-D-F.” I show him the notes on the keys corresponding to the notes on the paper. “Every good boy does fine.”

“What?”

“That’s the way you remember the notes. A mnemonic device, a brain trick. Every good boy does fine. Or every good boy deserves fudge. Or...” I hesitate, then fall headlong into the role of seductress and distractor extraordinaire. “Every Gordon bangs delicious Filipinas. Well, one. Well, part-Filipina. For the sake of the acronym it works.”

“Andrea!”

“No? How about, ‘Every Good Boyfriend Deserves Fucking?”

“I can’t think straight if you say things like that!” Gordon gasps, shocked laughter bubbling from his broad chest.

“I don’t want you to think straight. I want you to think dirty,” I tease. “Play the Five Finger Exercise on the next page, and I might let you finger something else.”

“But... The keyboard would get messy if we do that during my lesson.”

“You’re right. Maybe we’d better do some practice on the keys, and then move this to the bedroom. I think I have a real test of your memorization skills, Gordon, so you’d better concentrate on the teacher and what she’s saying,” I purr. “There’s a quiz after your lesson.”

Andrea stares at me sternly from the edge of the bed. “Spaces?”

“F, A, C, E,” I breathe out.

Andrea drops four pieces of clothing: skirt, thong, bra, and top.

“Lines?”

“E, G, B, D, F.”