He seemed to sense what she was thinking before she voiced it.
“Not among the headstones. If we follow the hill down a bit, there’s a field.”
Penelope nodded, afraid to speak and have the moment shatter.
His arm stayed wrapped around her as he led her back out of the church and over the rocky ground.
Doubt crept in the further they walked. It was too much, too good to be true. She tried to keep her tone playful, but she could hear the dry edge in her voice. “Is this where you take all the girls?”
“What?” He stopped short. His hands reached for her shoulders, turning her. “Wait. What? No.”
“I just….” She felt the hurt in his voice.
“I came here as a kid, Penny, with the lads. I’ve never brought a girl here before. I wasn’t trying to….”
She grabbed his hand and squeezed, wishing she could take her words back. “It’s okay. I just… this feels special to me and….”
“It’s the same for me,” he reassured her.
“Oh,” she lost words after that, snuggling herself closer to him and letting him continue to lead the way.
Eventually, he stopped. They were still surrounded by tall grass, the sound of the waves closer than before.
It surprised her when he dropped to the ground to sit, spreading his legs apart so that she fit snugly inside them. He wrapped his body around her like a blanket as she pressed her back against his chest.
He felt her body tremble. “Are you still cold?”
“Kind of,” she mumbled, afraid to admit the truth. “But I’m okay,” she added as a quick reassurance.
“Good.”
She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and telling herself to relax. She preferred it when they were facing each other—when his lips were on hers. But this was nice too. This was slower and maybe what she needed.
“There are some cliffs just down there that lead to the sea.” He pointed with his chin, scraping it gently along her cheek.
“I can smell it—the saltiness. I love Lake Michigan. And it has a smell. But not so intense. You have to know kind of what you’re looking for.”
“Do you know what you’re looking for, Penelope?”
The sound of his voice pronouncing her full name as well as the question took her off guard. It was like he could see into her. Like he knew she was looking, had been looking for so long. But did she really know what she wanted?
“I don’t know.”
The soft hint of his breathing tickled her ear. She wanted him to kiss her again—wanted it more than anything.
Instead, he asked, “What made you want to be a teacher?”
“Huh?”
“You said you teach second grade. What made you want to be a teacher?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I guess it was just always there.” She’d been asked this a million times before. Her rehearsed answer rolled out without any thought behind it. “I remember playing school as a kid, lining up my stuffed animals like my students. Both my parents were teachers, although my dad’s a principal now. I guess it was just always in my blood.”
“But do you like it? I mean, is it what you really want?”
This wasn’t something she’d been asked before. It caught her off guard. The sincerity in his voice made her pause and reconsider her answer, giving herself time to think it through. For once, she dared to say more than she’d admitted to anyone in a long time. “For a while, I wanted to be a writer. I even took some classes in college. My professor thought I was pretty good, too. But… it’s probably just a silly dream, not something solid to make a living from. And I do like teaching, I really do. I love second grade. The kids already kind of have school figured out, as in why they’re there. But they’re still so young and innocent. You can make anything exciting for them. And seeing the progress they make. It’s a big year for reading. They’re so proud of themselves when it really starts to click.”
He chuckled against her. “Yes. That is fun.”
