Her answer reverberated in her head. No.
They moved slowly, winding their way through the graveyard, drawing closer to the church. Some of the stones they passed were taller than Penelope. Some had crumbled to nothing more than a bump in the ground. Eventually, they came upon a group of stones smaller than any of the others.
Finn tried to move her on, but she pointed at them insistently. “What does it say on those?”
His voice became somber. For most of their visit, he’d held onto a teasing tone, daring her to explore. That fell away as he answered her.
“Those are the headstones of the children and the babies.”
A gasp escaped her.
“That’s horrible.” She held herself tighter as her mind began to spin and her eyes began to water. She knew she was overreacting. She didn’t know these people. And they’d died so long ago. But the actuality of standing in the dark, in a graveyard, by the ruins of an ancient church, in a field in Ireland was catching up with her. On top of that, the thought of these babies and young children like her own students, lying in graves, having barely lived a life, hit her with an unexpected pang of sadness.
“Life was very hard,” Finn said quietly into the night. “Come on.” He nudged her softly. “Let’s go look at the church.”
This time, he wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her gently forward. Thankful for the comfort of his presence, she sank into the warmth of his hold.
They stopped a couple feet back from the entrance so he could pass over it a couple times with the light, allowing her to see into the darkened nooks and crannies. Then he led her into what had once been the foyer.
Reining in her fears, Penny reached out to graze her fingers against the cold, rough stone. “It’s weird to think about how many people came through here before us. You don’t see history all around you like this at home.”
Glancing back over her shoulder, she added, “How many funerals were here? How many people came to worship?”
“How many weddings and christenings?” Finn added. “How many people walked down this little aisle?” Still holding her close, he continued down through the middle of the church. “Imagine the wooden benches on either side. The priest up ahead. The whole village here.”
It was somewhat comforting that the roof had long since disappeared, making her wonder if it had been thatch, something less sturdy than the thick stone around them, or simply the lapse of so much time that had worn it away. Regardless, she was grateful for the moonlight that accompanied them inside.
It was all so surreal; Penelope felt like she could be dreaming it. This scene was like something out of a nightmare, but with Finn’s arm around her, it felt safe. They moved down the aisle together until they stood at the front of the church. Looming there was another gash in the wall. One that had probably been filled by a beautiful stained-glass window once. Now it opened up onto darkness.
Penny shivered, and Finn placed his body against her back, positioning himself more protectively around her.
The wind picked up, carrying the salty smell of the sea. She shivered again, hoping he wouldn’t know that this time it wasn’t from the cold. She felt intoxicated, but not from alcohol. The walk up had sobered her in that sense. The realization of where she was and who she was with kept hitting her in waves. Old Penny would have turned around the minute they arrived, insisting they head home. But she’d changed. Something abouthim made her feel daring and alive. She wanted to embrace that part of herself.
“Cold?” he said into her ear.
She nodded, his roughly stubbled chin pressing against the top of her head as she did. She regretted this almost instantly as she felt him step back, baring her to the cold air now separating them. Until she felt something soft and warm wrapped around her: his flannel shirt. She breathed in the scent of his cologne and felt her legs grow weak. Her body was seeking his out again, leaning back against his solid chest. She closed her eyes and allowed herself for once to live in that moment.
“Penny,” he called her name gently.
“Hmm,” she breathed out, afraid to break the spell she was in.
He moved around her, turning her. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at his chest. Without thinking about it, her hands came up to rest against it, her fingers pressing into the strength there, suddenly craving it. He lifted his hand to her chin, tilting her head up.
Their eyes met, and for the first time, she knew what it meant to feel desired. The look he gave her made her feel beautiful, giving her the courage to feel reckless. When his head dipped, she rose onto her tiptoes to meet him. His lips were gentle on hers—tentative, testing that this was okay. Her fingers grasped his T-shirt, pulling him closer, her lips pressing more firmly as his hand slid down her back, pulling all of her up against him.
She knew she was trembling, overwhelmed by the emotion sweeping through her. This felt right. This, with Finn, felt more right than anything she’d ever known before.
His mouth traveled across her jawline, down to her neck. Her lips felt the loss of heat as he hovered over her, every other part of her warm and pulsing. Then his lips were back on hers, pressing firmly this time. His mouth opened, his tongue slipping into hers as he gripped her tighter. She couldn’t help the moan ofpleasure that escaped her. She wanted time to stop—to stay here, in this church of all places, with Finn holding her forever.
When he did pull away, it was only to look down at her. The rest of him still held her close. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
“Really?” she asked in a hushed voice, still catching her breath.
“Yes.” His tone was firm and reassuring. “You’re so beautiful. In so many ways.”
She felt small and safe in his arms, like she could let this comment in. Like maybe he was someone she could trust. Still, something nagged at the back of her mind. Something about this being wrong, but it didn’t make sense. Not compared to everything that was shouting the opposite.
“Would you be okay if we go sit?”
