Holiday Kisses

An usher led them to a table, but he only sat for a minute before standing and opening his arms. She walked into them, unaware that their movements gave an intense feeling of intimacy. At that moment, she wished for a long swirling skirt to fit her romantic mood.

Four or five steps took them to the dance floor, and he held her close to him as the strains of “Midnight Sun” floated from an alto saxophone. The band played it like slow jazz, and every note of it primed her for the man who held her and who danced as if he did nothing else and had always danced with her. Her head told her to sit down or she’d be lost, but her body said stay. As they danced, a new and wanton feeling took hold of her, and she rested her head against his shoulder and moved to his beat.

She could almost feel his reticence slipping away from him as his hold on her became a caress. She welcomed it, swung her body closer to his, and their relationship changed irrevocably.

“Don’t think for a minute that this thing is temporary,” he whispered. “You are in my blood, and I intend to know what you can mean to me.”

She missed a step and then another. “I’m not going to respond to that,” she said, but she knew he had his answer when she snuggled closer to him, not to make a statement, but to satisfy her hunger.

They danced piece after piece without leaving the floor and, to her, it was another world, one that included only the two of them. Finally, the orchestra played a seductive slow piece that Craig sang softly. “It’s an old Fats Waller song,” he explained, “‘Two Sleepy People.’ It’s a favorite of my mother’s.”