He bent down and scooped Alison up. The three of them clung to one another, swaying gently in time to “The Very Thought of You. ”
Claire looked away quickly—before Ali could ask why Mommy was crying. To her left, Mama was spinning poor Bobby around as if he were a top. Claire laughed out loud and knew exactly what her dad meant.
Every emotion.
That was what tonight was. All her life she’d look back on this night and remember how good her life was, how much she loved and was loved in return.
That was what Meghann had given her.
Meghann gazed at the black velvet lawn of Edgar Peabody Riverfront Park. Across the street, the Quonset hut sat bathed in moonlight. Behind her, the band was breaking down their equipment. Only a few die-hard guests were still here. Mama had left hours ago, as had Sam and Ali. Everyone else, including the bride and groom, had drifted away at around midnight. Meghann had stayed late, supervising the cleanup, but now that job was done.
Meghann sipped her champagne and looked across the street again. Her car was parked in front of Joe’s house. She wondered now if that had been a conscious choice.
He was probably sleeping.
She knew it was ridiculous to go to him, maybe even dangerous, but there was something in the air tonight. A heady combination of romance and magic. It smelled like roses and made a woman believe that anything was possible. For tonight, anyway.
She didn’t let herself think about it. If she did, she’d call herself a fool and stay put. So she hummed along with the music and walked down the gravel road. When she reached the black ribbon of asphalt, she turned right.
At his gate, she paused. The lights were on.
This was so unlike her.
She pushed the thought away and went to his door. There, she debated for another minute or two, then knocked.
Moments later, Joe opened the door. His hair was messed up, as if he’d been asleep; all he wore was a pair of black jeans. He waited for her to say something, but her voice had pulled a full retreat. She just stood there like an idiot, staring at his naked chest.
“You just going to stand there?”
She lifted her right hand, showing him the bottle of champagne she’d carried over.
He stared at her, saying nothing. When the silence became uncomfortable, he grabbed a black T-shirt from the sofa and put it on, then came back to the door. “I suppose you’re horny. That’s why you came by, right?”
She flinched at that. She thought about pulling herself up, slapping him, even, but it would be for show. A woman who screwed strangers had lost that right long ago. He was being honest, but there was something else, too. It felt as if he were angry with her. She couldn’t imagine why. Even more disconcerting was the realization that she cared. “No. I thought maybe we could go out. ”
“You want us to go on a date? At one o’clock in the morning?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“A better question is why. ”
She looked up at him. When their gazes locked, she felt a flutter in her puls
e. She couldn’t possibly put the answer into words. She didn’t dare look too closely at her own motivations. “Look, Joe. I was in a good mood. Maybe I had too much to drink. ” Her voice stumbled; need tripped her up. Humiliated, she closed her eyes. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry. ” When she opened her eyes, she saw that he’d moved closer. It would take nothing at all for him to kiss her now, barely a movement.
“I’m not much for going out. ”
“Oh. ”
“But I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come in. ”
She felt the start of a smile. “Great. ”
“What I mind,” he said, “is waking up alone. It’s okay if you don’t want to spend the night, but don’t sneak out like a hooker. ”
So that was it. “I’m sorry. ”
He smiled. It lit up his whole face, made him look ten years younger. “Okay. Come on in. ”