Page 26 of Dreams of Falling
Ceecee shrugged. “I guess so. I’ve never known any other place. It’s really beautiful—and historic, too. Did you know that the Marquis ofLafayette landed in Georgetown the first time he visited America during the Revolution?”
He smiled, his white teeth glowing in the moonlight. “I did not know that.”
“It’s true. And we’ve got rivers as far as the eye can see—we’re surrounded by rivers, creeks, and marshes, so everybody has a boat and knows how to swim and fish.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes like Margaret had shown her, hoping he could see in the moonlight. “I know Charleston’s not far from the coast, but if you haven’t spent a lot of time on the water, it wouldn’t take you long to learn how to do all that. People are friendly there and would show you.” She’d wanted to say thatshewould show him, but she’d already been forward enough. “The harbor’s so pretty—like a postcard—and we’ve got lots of old houses and abandoned rice fields right behind town that you can kayak through and see some of the old dikes.” She peered shyly up at him. “You should come visit sometime.”
“You make it seem so nice, I’m thinking I should. The thing about being a doctor is that you can be a doctor pretty much anywhere. I can either join an existing practice or start my own. My mama would be disappointed if I didn’t go home to Charleston, but I like to keep my options open.”
“That’s nice,” she said, a feeling like fluttering wings tickling the inside of her chest.
He looked sideways at her, as if unsure whether she was joking. “The way I see it, the only thing lacking in Georgetown is intelligent, suitable young men. I can’t believe you don’t have any suitors breaking down your door.”
She stopped and looked up at him, the moon framing his head like a halo. “You don’t need to flatter me, Boyd Madsen. I’ve already let you lead me onto the beach and walk far enough away from everyone that if you kissed me, I would probably let you.” Ceecee wasn’t sure where all those words were coming from. Maybe she’d seen too many movies with Margaret and Bitty and thought that was how women were supposed to talk to men. Or maybe it was the moonlight and the sound of the waves and the distant musical notes sliding their way intothe breeze and this man whose presence seemed to make all reason and caution disappear.
“Is that so?” He gently nuzzled the underside of her chin with his finger before tilting her face upward. “Because even though I’ve been thinking about kissing you from the moment I first saw you at the Esso station, I’ve been doing my best to be a gentleman at least until tomorrow when I see you again.”
“So, you’re already planning on seeing me again tomorrow?” she asked, trying to sound provocative the way Deborah Kerr had inKing Solomon’s Mines. Instead, her voice was so soft, she wasn’t even sure she’d actually spoken. She’d been keeping her hope that he’d want to see her again wrapped up inside her chest, where it couldn’t be seen or ridiculed as being overly optimistic. Her mother was always accusing her of that, so Ceecee had learned to keep her dreams tucked inside a corner of her heart.
He pulled back slightly. “Only if you want me to.”
And because she was afraid he might change his mind, she stood on tiptoes on the shifting sand and pressed her lips against his. She’d never kissed anyone on the mouth before, but Margaret had told her and Bitty to practice on their pillows so they’d know how to do it right when it was time.
But nothing could have prepared her for what it was like to kiss Boyd. There was softness, and heat, and soft tongue that made her knees buckle. His large hands came around her waist to support her, and because her hands had nowhere else to land, she slipped them around his neck and held on tightly, pressing herself against him because she had the oddest thought that they were two halves of a shell, fitting perfectly together to become a whole.
Eventually, he pulled back, breathing heavily, his hands slipping from her waist. “Wow. That was a surprise.”
“You... you didn’t like it?”
He cupped her head in his hands. “I liked it a little too much.” He pressed his forehead against hers, still breathing heavily. “You’re something else, Sessalee Purnell.”
“And so are you, Boyd Madsen,” she whispered.
“We should get back to your friends,” he said. “Before your reputation is completely ruined.”
She knew what he meant—as a way to keep Ceecee on the straight and narrow, her mother had been drilling her about what happened to girls who’d lost their reputation. Not that her mother had ever been able to go into the actual specifics of what a girl had to do to lose her reputation. She was fairly sure going somewhere alone with a man and kissing him was pretty close, but she also knew there was much more they could have done that would have sealed her reputation as a loose woman.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm again as they walked back to the hotel and the others, the moon at their backs casting long shadows in front of them. The dark sand swallowed their footsteps, hiding them as if they’d never been there at all, making Ceecee shiver.
“Are you cold?” Boyd asked, taking off his jacket and placing it around her shoulders before she could answer.
“Thanks,” she said, pulling the lapel closed over her neck. She was busy thinking of ways to extend the evening, when she spotted Bitty coming down the steps to the beach and running toward them.
“There you are—thank goodness,” she said. “Margaret’s not feeling well, and we need to get her home.”
Ceecee let go of Boyd’s arm and began walking quickly toward the steps. “What’s happened?”
Bitty leaned toward Ceecee and lowered her voice. “I think too much to drink and too much dancing. Reggie convinced the band to play some jitterbug music, and I think it just shook up Margaret’s stomach.”
“How can I help?” Boyd asked. “Can I carry her to the car?”
Bitty started to say yes, but Ceecee interjected. “No, but thank you. We can manage.” She told herself that she wasn’t ready to share Boyd yet, but she knew it was more than that. She wasn’t ready for Boyd to meet Margaret. Even the flash of shame she felt at the thought wasn’t enough for her to change her mind and ask for help.
She turned to face Boyd, reluctantly handing back his jacket. “Thank you. It was a lovely evening.”
“Can I see you again? Tomorrow?”
Ceecee pretended to think, knowing she owed her mother at least that. “All right. Meet me at the Pavilion—say five o’clock?”
“Can’t I pick you up?”
