Kate hid her disappointment at missing out on Graceland. “Whatever you think is best. You’re the pilot.”

He studied her and appeared to be making a decision that had nothing to do with Graceland or storm clouds. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s grab some lunch and go to Graceland. A promise is a promise. I’ll get you home in one piece.”

On the shuttle bus ride through gates adorned with musical notes at Graceland, Reid confessed he’d never been there before.

“Never?” Kate stared at him in amazement. “How often do you come to Memphis?”

“Almost once a week for twenty years,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“You need to learn how to live, baby,” she said, again in perfect imitation of Elvis’s accent.

They listened to Lisa Marie Presley’s voice in headphones as she showed them through the dining room, living room, Elvis’s bedroom, and that of his parents. They strolled through the music room where his grand piano was the main attraction, before they saw the King’s beloved pool table, his business office, and the famous “jungle” den. Kate loved every gaudy, over-the-top inch of the place.

The tension that had vibrated between her and Reid all day disappeared while they checked out an extensive collection of Elvis’s gold records and giggled with delight at some of his more outrageous costumes.

Kate pointed to a white jumpsuit encrusted with rhinestones. “You’d look adorable in that one,” she whispered.

“Not in this or any other lifetime.”

“Stick in the mud.” She was relieved by the return of their easy rapport, almost as if his speech the night before had never happened.

“Call me what you will, but you wouldn’t catch me dead in a getup like that.”

The tour of the house concluded in the Meditation Garden, where Elvis was buried with several of his relatives. At Elvis’s gravesite, Kate curled her hand into Reid’s.

“It’s so sad,” Reid whispered, lacing his fingers through hers. “He had everything, but look how he ended up.”

“Alone and wasted,” Kate said softly.

He glanced at her. “Don’t let that happen to you.”

“I’m hardly Elvis Presley.”

“You have the same kind of talent, and it’s going to take you to some of the same places it took him.”

His certainty astounded her. “How can you be so sure?”

He shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”

The rain began to fall harder, so they ran back inside to see the car collection. By the time they toured Elvis’s airplane, the Lisa Marie, it was pouring and considerably colder than it had been an hour earlier.

“Shit.” Reid looked up at the sky, reached for her hand, and hustled her onto a shuttle bus for the ride back to the parking lot.

The wind whipped and icy rain pinged against the windshield while they waited for the car to warm up.