She pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket and held it out to him. “Here’s the list. We can go over it as we walk.”
He shone the light on it. “Go ahead.”
She began to read, and as she did, the time she’d spent at each place came to mind, and she told him anything that came to mind that wasn’t written down. It was a long list, and about halfway through he stopped her.
“You’ve been to all these places?”
“No. Some are just on this list because of things I’d heard,” she explained. “They are on the can’t-visit list.” She shook her head. “The list isn’t the only reason I wanted to come down here.”
“Oh?”
“No, I wanted to know more about you.”
“What about me?”
“Everything,” she said. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’ve been to so many places, seen so many things. It’s exciting. Thrilling. I’ve had more fun with you the past few nights than I’ve had my entire life, and...” She shook her head. “I just want to know more. Anything you want to tell me.”
“I’ve already told you more than I’ve ever told anyone else, Betty.”
His voice was low, nearly a whisper and it made her heart race.
“You have?”
“Yes, I have.”
She stretched up on her toes and kissed his lips, softly, quickly. “I’m glad.” She then looped her arm through his and leaned her head against his upper arm. “And I still want to know more. Tell me about some of the traps the kitchen workers set out to catch you.”
He did. Stories about pots and pans tied together with trip strings and flour sprinkled on the floor that had her laughing, and then stories about sneaking extra blankets for cold children that had her confirming all over again that he’d been a real hero as a child.
She listened to all he said, but more than that, she listened to how he said it. She could hear the happiness in his voice when he spoke about certain things, and people. That made her feel so good. Knowing there had been some happiness in his childhood.
He’d just finished telling her a funny tale about a picture his friend Mick had drawn on a chalkboard that had them both laughing, when he shone the light ahead of them. “We’re here.”
There was a solid, curve-topped door ahead of them, with black hinges and a large handle. It excited her to open the door, see what was behind it. “I feel like I’m sneaking into the orphanage kitchen,” she said with a giggle.
He laughed as he opened the door and motioned for her to walk inside. “There’s no food here, and not much to see, either.”
“Yes, there is,” she said, taking in the white sheets draped over dressers, chairs, a couch, and kitchen table. “Look at all this.”
“They are just dust sheets.”
“I know, but it’s still exciting.” She couldn’t begin to describe the yearning inside her. She’d never felt it before. This burning need. Knowing he would soon be gone and she’d be married to James filled her with something she couldn’t describe. It was like she wanted to break every rule there was, now before she wouldn’t be able to. She set the list on a wood shelf as she picked up a dusty old bottle and blew the dust off it before setting it back down. “To someone who wants more.”
“More of what?”
She twirled around. That was it. More. Of everything. The next month, she wanted to live like she was never going to live again. Laughing, she walked over and pulled a sheet off the couch, tossed it aside, and plopped down.
“More of everything!”
“Like what?”
She jumped back up and grabbed his hands. “Everything we’ve done since I met you. You are only going to be here a month, and during that time, I—I want to help you with more than just a list.” She released one hand, held their clasped ones up, and twirled beneath them. “And I want to dance and laugh.”
This wasn’t like her, but it felt so good. So right. She stepped closer to him. “And kiss.” She stretched onto her tiptoes and whispered, “I need you, Henry. You make me feel alive.”
He cupped her face with one hand and, looking at her with those early-morning-sky-blue eyes, shook his head. “You don’t need me for that.”
Her heart skipped a beat, because she did. She did need him. “Yes, I do.” She grasped his hand and pulled him onto the sofa. “Tell me more about your life.”
“There’s no more to tell.” Touching her cheek, he said, “Tell me about you instead.”
“I’ve already told you...” She paused and bit her lips together at the happiness that rose up inside her. “I could tell you about my first kiss.”
He lifted a brow and she giggled. “It was with the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. First he rescued me, saved me from downing.” She leaned closer to him, so close their noses almost touched. “Then he kissed me.” She tilted her head and brought her mouth closer to his. “Like this.”
She pressed her lips against his, and then used her tongue to part his lips like he had hers the other night in the tunnel.
She felt a rumble, a groan, in the back of his throat as he pulled her so close against him that she could feel his heart beating inside his chest. Hers was pounding, and it felt glorious, alive.
When their mouths separated, she was gasping for breath, but also laughing.
Then they kissed again. And again.
She’d lost count of their kisses when he ended a kiss and stood up, breathing heavily.
She stood up, too, and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.
His body felt so good pressed up against hers, she wiggled against him. He twisted around and wrapped his arms around her. She kissed his throat, his chin, and then tilted her head back, giggling as he kissed the side of her neck.
Her legs wobbled and his hold around her waist tightened.
Henry’s mouth
