Page 36 of Landing Love

“Definitely Kermit.”

The rhythmic ebb and flow of the waltz carried them around the dance floor, and her heart lightened with every step. He had a special way of lifting her spirits when she needed it most.

She decided to try her hand at his game. “Would we be more likely to live in Timbuktu or Zanzibar?”

His smiled, and it was dazzling. Her heart thrilled at the sight. “Excellent question, Ann. Terribly important. Hmm. I’d say Zanzibar. You?”

“Oh dear. I was going to pick Timbuktu,” she said, laughing.

“Then we are certainly doomed.” The dance came to an end, and he brushed his lips across her forehead. Her knees turned to water.

The evening spun around them, and they threw themselves into it, dancing and laughing. Hours passed in the blink of an eye. They danced the night away until Mary came to get them. “Mum wants to go home. Would you be able to take Junior?”

The real world came rushing back. She was a widow and a mother, and, like Cinderella at the ball, it was time for her to go home. The bride and the groom were long gone, and the evening was at an end.

Taking back Junior, she said goodnight to the O’Donnells, and Bill walked her out to his car, helping her up. She settled a drowsy Junior in her lap. Thank heavens he was sleepy. Hopefully, he would stay that way for the long journey back to Merrick.

After Bill slid into the driver’s seat, he turned to her. “Thank you for tonight, Ann. It was a beautiful dream.”

A dream, and that was all. Her heart broke a little at the thought of it ending. “Yes, it was.”

“Ann?” Leaning close, he reached out to caress her face and rested his forehead against hers.

“Yes?” She could hardly breathe.

“Will I kiss you now or walk away and regret it for the rest of my life?”

A warm, summer breeze caressed her face, and the sounds of the city faded around her. She shouldn’t. She knew that much. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

His lips brushed hers gently, tentatively, tasting, testing. Each gentle touch sent ripples to every part of her. She wanted this. Yes, she wanted it desperately. Until she met Bill, she thought that she would never feel like this again. But now that she did, she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want to go back to her life, her grief. She wanted to stay here, suspended.

As he deepened his kiss, she became pure longing. Every fiber of her being craved him. Parts of her awakened that had been dormant since losing Roger. A long-forgotten hunger came alive. She didn’t just want this kiss. She wanted him—his hands touching her body, his own body moving against hers. Could she recapture the joy and rapture she remembered with this man? Would it feel the same?

Junior made a disgruntled noise, and they broke apart.

“My God, Ann. You are so much more than I ever dreamed.”

The ardor in his gaze was too much to take. She didn’t want to break his heart. That kiss made her forget her worries and drown in a dream of possibility. It was everything she hoped and more. “But that’s all it is—a dream. Tomorrow, I’ll be a widow and mother, and you’ll be my friend again. We can’t stay. We should go home.”

As they sat silent and exhausted on the ride home, he held her hand once again. She thought about Roger. Would he be disappointed in her? He loved her. Would he truly begrudge her a moment of happiness? No, he wouldn’t, and that was all the more reason to stay true to his memory. He was a good and loving man. There wasn’t a selfish bone in his body. He was a lot like Bill, actually, always going out of his way to help people that needed a hand. She had allowed herself the relief of this one night, and now it was at an end. Things had to go back to the way they were.

They turned off the highway and drove the familiar streets of Merrick. As they got close to her house, she smelled smoke in the air and began to cough. Something was wrong. She hoped whatever had happened, no one was hurt. She would have to keep the windows closed tonight to keep out the smell.

As they turned onto her street, she took in the bucket brigade outside her neighbor’s house, and her heart lurched. Then she saw her own house billowing smoke. “No,” she screamed, as all her dreams crumbled to ash before her eyes.

14

There was nothing left. The little home he just finished repairing, the little home they celebrated her move in, was so much cinder and ashes.

Bill wasn’t sure how long he sat on the grass, holding Junior as Ann sobbed uncontrollably beside him. When Junior began to cough from the smoke, he touched her back. “Ann.”

She pushed him away.

“Ann,” he said again more forcefully, “Junior is coughing from the smoke. We have to go. Please. Let’s get in the car.”

“And go where?” She turned on him, desperation written in every feature. “Who would take me in? Everything I own was in that house. Everything. Without it, I have nothing.”