“I’d love to take you up.”
The song ended. Before the last note had cleared the air, a sailor tapped him on the back. “Can I have this dance?” he asked.
“Afraid not.” My partner kept his arm around me. “She’s my fiancée.”
Over his wide shoulder, I saw the sailor walk away.
“I’ll get in trouble,” I said, dropping my hand from his shoulder and stepping back. “I’m supposed to dance with everyone who asks.”
He gave me a slow grin. “For all the chaperones know, he was just asking the time.”
I put my hands on my hip. “What makes you so sure Iwantto keep dancing with you?”
“Don’t you?”
Of course I did, but I cocked my head and pretended to consider it. “Well...”
The band started playing “Blues in the Night.” He gave a low chortle and pulled me back into his arms.
“You’re awfully smug, aren’t you?” I said as we swayed to the music.
“No. I’m just awfully determined to keep what I want once I find it.”
I don’t know if it was the words, or the feeling of his body against mine, but all of a sudden, I was covered in hot chill bumps. “You ought to at least feel a little remorse for lying to that sailor like that.”
“Who says it was a lie?” He pulled me close as the music started. “Maybe it was just a premature truth.”
I should have been put off by his brashness. I mean, who talks like that? But there was something about him. Something that made my insides melt like ice cream in July. “I don’t even know your name,” I said.
“Joe.” He pulled me closer. “Joe Madison. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Madison,” I repeated. “Like the town in Wisconsin and the avenue in New York City?”
“That’s right. Ever been either place?”
“No, but I’d love to. I’d love to see the whole world.”
He smiled down at me.“Sounds like you’ve got a vagabond spirit.”
“Absolutely.”
“So where do you want to go first?”
“Well, I have a list, but I’m not particular about the order.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“It’s too long to remember in its entirety, but let’s see... San Francisco. New York. The Grand Canyon. And if the war ever stops, Europe. I’d especially love to see the Eiffel Tower, if it’s still standing. And Egypt: I’d love to photograph the Sphinx and the pyramids. And India. I want to see the Taj Mahal. Oh, and a tropical island—I’d love to go to a tropical island.” He spun me around the floor. “I want to be a travel photographer.”
“Isn’t that a man’s job?”
“Who says it has to be? A woman can take photos just as well as a man.”
“Don’t you want to marry and settle down?”
“Why does everyone act like they have to be one and the same?”
His left eyebrow rose. His lips curved, but his smile lacked condescension. “You, apparently, have a different opinion?”
