Page 20 of Landing Love

He sat silent for a long moment, a rapturous look on his face. “Your voice is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank you. I quite enjoyed your voice as well.” She more than enjoyed it. She reveled in it, feeling its reverberations down to her toes. Reminding herself that this was merely another echo of Roger, she took deep breaths to slow the furious beating of her heart.

Before she could recover, he piped up with another song and then another. They sang all the way through Queens, only stopping when Junior began to fuss.

“Oh dear, I think he’s hungry.” This was awkward. She’d tried so hard to avoid this very thing, but there was nothing to be done. “I fed him extra this morning so that this wouldn’t happen. Do you mind terribly if I feed him? He’ll go right to sleep after.”

“Not at all.” Mary was a mother. Of course, she understood.

Bill cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Not at all,” he echoed, but in a slightly strangled voice.

He looked uncomfortable, but what was she supposed to do? There was at least half an hour left in their journey. The factories of Queens had only just started to give way to suburbs and farmland, and none of them would be happy if Junior spent the whole rest of the drive screaming.

Reaching down to her bag, she pulled out a blanket and draped it over her front. Then she unfastened her dress to give Junior access to her breast and helped him latch on. Bill studiously looked straight ahead, his hands tightening on the steering wheel once again.

Mary caught her eye, nodded at Bill, and rolled her eyes. Ann broke into a smile. Men were so ridiculous about these things.

In no time, Junior finished and dozed off, and she fastened herself back up. “I’m done. He’s asleep,” she whispered to Bill.

His shoulders dropped several inches, and the three of them settled into a comfortable silence.

They stayed quiet for the rest of the trip to avoid waking the baby. She was still agonizingly aware of every tiny movement Bill made. It was almost more than she could take. Her heart and mind might be loyal to Roger, but her body certainly wasn’t. She was reacting to the man beside her, not some echo of her lost husband, no matter how guilty it made her feel.

When the truck stopped and Bill got out, she breathed a sigh of relief. The torture was over. She was home at last.

8

Bill took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He’d seen women breastfeed before and knew everything was covered, but the mere thought of her naked breast so close at hand, coupled with her being pressed up against him, proved to be too much.

The remainder of the car ride passed in a torturous silence where there was nothing to distract him from the errant images floating through his mind. Thank heavens they finally arrived, and he could throw himself into work. There was nothing sensual about hauling boxes. At least from his perspective. If she happened to enjoy the view, he wouldn’t mind.

He was relieved Hank was flying today and couldn’t join. Ladies never looked at him when Hank was around. Without Hank here, he stood a chance of being the center of her attention. She was certainly the center of his.

Was it his imagination, or was she looking especially lovely today? She was wearing a grey shirtwaist with a black skirt, a change from her usual unrelenting black. The cut of it flattered her figure, hugging her hips before it flared out. Her glorious auburn hair was in a loose bun and glowed around her face like a fiery halo. Had she put effort into looking nice for him?

Pritchard and Thompson arrived and helped him begin the unloading. Mary took Junior while Ann directed where things should go. Once the furniture was done, Ann retired to the kitchen to make sandwiches. An hour was all it took to unload everything.

When they were done, they squeezed into the sitting room, all three of the men on the sofa, leaving the two wingback chairs for the ladies. Junior had been put down for a nap in his crib. Ann brought in the sandwiches and put them on the coffee table. Then she brought cups and a pitcher of lemonade. Lastly, she asked, “Who would like a beer?”

All three men raised their hands. Then Mary smiled and raised her hand too. “I’ll have one too, if you’ll have one with us.”

Ann’s eyebrows shot up, but she nodded. Moments later, she came back with five beers, handing them around and then opening her own and sniffing it with suspicion.

“To your new home,” Pritchard toasted.

Ann took a sip and winced.

“To sandwiches and beer,” said Thompson, oblivious.

She took another sip, and her expression was slightly less disgusted.

“To Mrs. Prince.” Mary raised her beer in salute.

With everyone looking at her, Ann took a deep drink. She smiled, and Bill wondered if anyone else saw how much effort it took. Maybe he should have spoken up. He didn’t want her to do something she was uncomfortable with for their sake. But something about her determined look stopped him.

“To the future,” Bill said carefully, holding her gaze.

Her eyes widened, but then she nodded, raising her beer again and taking another sip with nary a wince.