Page 9 of Landing Love

“No, no, no! I swear, I’m not trying to sell you a thing. I just like to be of assistance, and you seem like someone I would like to assist.” His mischievous grin was back.

“I have a two-month-old infant,” she blurted. Why, she couldn’t say.

He didn’t bat an eye. “Oh, I love babies. What’s your baby’s name?”

“His name is Roger Jr., but I call him Junior.”

His eyes were suddenly soft and sad. “Junior. Very sweet. You must miss your Roger very much.”

She blinked several times in quick succession to keep back the sudden prickle of tears. “I do.”

“Come dance with me again, Mrs. Prince,” he said, getting up suddenly. A foxtrot was just beginning. “I’d very much like to dance with you and then fix your roof.”

Ann didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at such an offer. Did she dare say yes? After months of grief and loss, it was everything she wanted in that moment. Before she knew what she was doing, she nodded and gave him her hand. As he pulled her to the dance floor, she could only hope she wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

4

Bill liked Mrs. Prince quite a bit. He may have introduced himself on a dare from Hank, but he was staying by her side for his own sake. The woman fixed her own sink. And she had a brand-new baby. And she loved strawberry ice cream.

He could happily watch her eat strawberry ice cream all night. The way she moaned with that first bite made him rue his vow of good behavior. He wasn’t going to do anything about his attraction. He was a gentleman after all. But never had he had such a visceral, physical reaction to a woman. If he didn’t like her so much, he might have fallen back into his old womanizing ways. But she was worth taking his time with.

She was gorgeous in her conservative black gown with her lovely auburn hair up in a loose bun. Her striking green eyes were so expressive. Looking into them, it was as if he could read her every thought. He could see the catch of sadness creeping in, and he could see when he succeeded in chasing it away. She seemed to have some inner light that burned bright through it all, a warmth that drew him in.

It was clear she was newly bereaved, and he had no intention of pressing for more than she was willing to give. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to dance with her and fix her roof. He wanted to lift her spirits and make her life a little bit easier. If that was all he did, it would be enough. Or so he told himself as he tried not to picture her fiery hair spread across his pillow, her pale skin bared to his touch.

He pulled her close for the foxtrot, and she fit against him as if they were made for each other. She was tall for a woman, so he didn’t tower above her quite as much as most women. He could feel her heat, inhale her scent of apples and soap. Wishing he could bury his face in her hair and breathe her in, he forced himself to settle for a turn around the dance floor.

She relaxed a bit more this time, not looking quite so pensive every time he caught her eye. “So tell me about this house with the leaky roof.” He led her through the dance steps in time to the music, trying to keep his errant thoughts at bay.

A hint of a smile crossed her lips. “I inherited it from my mother. It’s a tiny house with adorable gingerbread trim, built on what used to be a Methodist revival camp. It was always intended to be a vacation home, but it’s all I have now. I think Junior and I can get along just fine there. Once I get a teaching position, that is…”

“Ah, you’re a schoolteacher. It fits.” She had exactly the right temperament for the job, warmth and kindness combined with intelligence and spirit.

“How did you become a pilot?” The smile in her eyes melted him.

“I grew up in Mineola. My parents run a flower shop there. It’s hard not to fall in love with aeronautics when you grow up surrounded by it. I watched Glenn Curtiss make his first flight in 1908, and I’ve been hooked ever since.” He turned her just in time to avoid another dancing couple.

“Is that why you decided to become a pilot?”

His heart soared at her question. Women loved that he was a pilot, but they never bothered to ask why. Until her.

“I was fourteen, and Da paid five whole dollars to let me take a fifteen-minute ride with a barnstormer. It was like flying up to heaven with the angels. I felt like I was in another world. I never wanted to come down. But, of course, we had to land. My heart was in my throat the whole time, but that didn’t discourage me.” The moment he’d touched ground, he wanted to go right back up again.

“It sounds wonderful. Someday, I’d like to try it.” Her plush lips turned into a smile, leaving him breathless.

“Your husband never took you up?” As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake.

She stiffened in his arms and pulled away slightly. “The Army taught him to fly, and once the war started, I hardly saw him. We’d only been married six months when he went away, and I only saw him twice after that. I lost him too soon. He never had the chance to take me up.”

He had to do something fast. She was rigid as a board in his arms. “Forget what I said. Flying is no fun at all. Not compared to eating cake.” The dance ended, and he was forced to let her go. “Let me go get you a slice.”

She acquiesced with a little tilt of her head.

He retrieved two delicate, silver-edged plates from the cake table and brought them back to the table where they were seated. He noted with glee that the cake had strawberries in it. Sitting down next to her, he watched in delight, and, if he was honest, more than a touch of prurient interest, as she took her first bite. She was careful not to make a sound this time, but the look on her face was rapturous. If only he could make her feel as good as strawberry cake!

No, he was not going to let his mind go there.

“It’s delicious. You have to try it.” She swallowed and gave him an ecstatic smile that made his pants grow tight.