Page 13 of Landing Love

“Call me Bill.”

“You must see how improper it would be. I can’t let you spend so much when I have nothing to offer in return.” Except myself. And I won’t offer that.

He crossed his arms and looked at her, furrowing his brow in thought. “You were willing to accept funds from the PBA, weren’t you?”

“Well, yes. But that’s different.” He had to see how this would create an obligation that would put her in an extremely difficult position.

“Then consider my purchase a contribution to the PBA. Then there’d be nothing improper about it.”

“Well…but…” This all made her terribly uncomfortable, but she was having difficulty coming up with an argument when he framed it like that.

“I swear to you on my honor as a pilot that I only want to help you with your roof and nothing more.”

What was she to do? Here was a handsome man offering to solve all her problems without asking anything in return. She needed the charity, much as it pained her. And so far, he’d been nothing but respectful. Perhaps it was her imagination that he had a romantic interest in her. After all, she was a widow with no money and a brand-new baby. Why would any man want to take her on?

She bit her lip and then sighed. “Very well. I accept.” She could only hope she didn’t regret it.

“Your wish is my command.” He made a funny little bow and left, leaving Ann unexpectedly breathless.

Mary’s knowing smile made Ann’s cheeks heat, but she didn’t say a word about Bill. Instead, she said, “Tell me about that fancy fundraiser you went to. I asked Bill, and all he talked about was you. What is Aurora Belmont like in real life? I only know what I read in these things.” She waved a gossip magazine.

Ann closed her eyes for a moment, summoning her memories of an evening that was likely to live in her dreams forever. While she’d lived a comfortable, middle-class life until losing Roger, she’d never expected to find herself mixing with the city’s elite at the fanciest hotel in town.

“Miss Belmont is absolutely beautiful. The pictures don’t do her justice. And she’s very modern. Her dress was quite something. Every man in the place had his eyes glued on her. Except Bill. For some reason, he seemed to be immune.”

Mary laughed out loud and shook her head. “I can’t imagine why.” She winked at Ann, making her stomach do a flip.

Ann was not ready to talk about Bill and the dizzy fluttery way he made her feel, so she forged ahead as if she hadn’t heard Mary’s comment. “I also met Mrs. Madeleine Astor, Mrs. Alva Belmont, Miss Evelyn Carnegie and a dozen other grand ladies whose names I can’t remember. It was all I could do to form words when faced with so much wealth and fame.”

“I can imagine.” Mary’s eyes widened as she continued her sorting. “Tell me about the dresses. What were they all wearing? I’m dying for details. Bill never notices things like that.”

“The younger women were all very modern. Their dresses were long and straight, draped to look almost like Greek togas. Many of the dresses had sheer sleeves or just straps with no sleeves at all. All of them fell mid-calf, showing off the ankle and then some. The older women wore more traditional gowns, high-necked and long to the floor. Mrs. Astor’s gown had the most wonderful, embroidered flowers. I’m going to see if I can duplicate it as an experiment.”

“You like to sew?” Mary’s eyes lit up. Did she share Ann’s obsession with needlecraft?

“I do.” Where had this woman been all her life? Plenty of women sewed, knitted, and embroidered, but it was rare to find a woman who enjoyed it rather than seeing it merely as a chore. Little did Mary know the floodgates she’d opened with her friendly inquiry.

For two hours, they continued to chat about the party and dresses and different sewing patterns they’d tried as they worked their way through the remaining piles in the first bedroom. It was such a relief to sit with a friend and chatter about making things.

After Roger’s death, the women she thought were her friends had all abandoned her. She couldn’t afford to keep up with their pastimes anymore, and they felt put upon by her sadness and grief. Just as men no longer looked at her, women avoided her company too. This simple, easy conversation left her with burgeoning hope for the future.

Bill came in at long last, sweaty and magnificent, his shirtsleeves rolled up, revealing lean, muscular arms. His shirt stuck to his chest, hugging the contours beneath. Suddenly the warmth of the summer day became unbearable, and Ann jumped up. “Lemonade. I think we all need some lemonade.”

She excused herself to the kitchen where she took a moment to fan herself before opening the icebox. Guilt assailed her as she got out the sandwiches and lemonade she’d prepared. Her grief for Roger was a palpable thing, resting in her heart like a splinter, constantly aching and every so often causing a sharp pain. How could she be reacting like this to another man when she was still mourning the one she lost? It must be because he reminded her of Roger. After all, he was a pilot, and he showed the same determination to take care of her that Roger always had.

Yes, that was all. Her reactions were only further proof of her grief and loss. She looked around the kitchen and a memory arose unbidden of stealing a kiss with Roger in here while her mother babbled away about the latest society scandals. When his lips were on hers, her whole body went up in flames. It was a wonder they didn’t burn down her mother’s house with that kiss. Of course, it couldn’t go any further until they returned home. And then at night… No. It was time to serve sandwiches and lemonade.

Opening the icebox, she pulled out what she needed. First, she brought out the lemonade and glasses, pouring some for each of them. Then she brought out the sandwiches and plates. Bill smiled and handed her a small brown box wrapped in twine.

“I got something at the bakery while I was out.”

A gift? Wasn’t it enough that he was repairing her roof? But she couldn’t resist that eager, expectant grin of his. “What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

She untied the twine and opened it. Three perfect cupcakes with pink frosting were nestled within.

“Strawberry,” he said with a sideways smile.