There’s a beat of silence where she tilts her head closer. “I’m sorry, Bill. That must’ve been hard.”
I try to smile. “Hard but normal, right? I’m getting older, and it’s normal to start losing people. Comes with the territory, right?” I mean it as a joke, but the words land heavier than I intended.
Her eyes hold mine steady. “You’re right. Life is short.”
Something in her tone makes me wonder where her mind has gone, but I don’t push. She glances away. I don’t know what memory she’s living in, but I can tell it’s one that shaped her.
We let the conversation fade and just skate, her gliding backward now with me holding her waist, guiding her. She tilts her head back, eyes finding mine. At the edge of the rink, we slow to a stop, flushed and winded. I keep my hand at her back a little longer than necessary. Then I lift my hand to her cheek, brushing her skin with my thumb. She leans into the touch, and my chest tightens at the trust in the gesture.
I can’t hold back another second. I lower my head and kiss her slowly—savoring the warmth of her lips in the winter chill. She presses into me, and I swear she wants to kiss just as much as I do.
When I finally pull back, we’re both breathing hard, not just from skating anymore.
“This was the best day of my life,” I murmur, my forehead resting against hers.
Her lips curve faintly, hovering near mine. “Was? Feels to me like we’re just getting started...”
“That means you need a snack, right?” I give her a suspicious side-eye.
“No.” She rolls her eyes as a chuckle leaks out.
“Are you sure about that?” I press the issue again. “I saw they have donuts with mountains of frosting on them.”
“Did you see chocolate ones?” Her gaze snaps to the side of the rink where the concessions are, and I immediately laugh, taking that as a yes.
“Let’s go.” I push off my skate, pulling her forward, and we glide together off the ice.
twenty-five
Ruth
I’ve stopped in front of my hotel door that Bill has walked me right up to. “Never mind,” I whisper into his lips that are nearly touching mine, but it sounds weak even to me. “This whole tripand everything about it was a mistake.” I half laugh, but real doubts are sinking in, as my heart hasn’t slowed in hours.
“Call it whatever you want, but I don’t believe for a second you think it’s a mistake.” Bill leans closer and rasps as his gaze flicks to my lips.
Judging from the way his hand is parked on my hip like he owns it, he’s feeling the magnetism I am. Instead of fighting it, I tilt my chin up, teasing him, “Maybe it’s fine.”
His smile tugs into one I’ve never seen before. It’s a mixture of something mischievous and confused. “Just fine?” he whispers, and his voice comes out rough. Without waiting for a reply, he shifts his weight, removing his hand from my hip and placing it on the door behind me. It’s no longer touching me, but I feel it like a spark above me.
My heart races.
My stomach loops into an endless spiral.
I’m not this person.
I’m not this woman who gets caught up in the romanticism of a beautiful city and these warm kisses and soft touches. Somehow, I’ve turned into a puddle of jelly.
His gaze softens. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, but I should go inside and go to bed.”
He nods, just once.
His feet stay firmly planted on the floor, and the corners of his mouth twitch like he knows there’s a punchline coming. “Then go inside,” he says, his voice steady. “We can meet up in the morning.”
I can see the sincerity in his eyes that he’ll do whatever I ask him to. It makes the last lingering crust of my shield crumble to the ground. I never expected to meet a man like Bill.
Heaven knows, I’ve resisted.
