Until the Stars Fall From the Sky by Mary Crawford Page B

mind-boggling to me that Jeff thinks nothing of picking me up and holding me for several minutes of time. He doesn’t even break a sweat. It is as if we are two puzzle pieces that suddenly found their way into the right box. I inhale the amazing scent that is uniquely Jeff. He smells exactly how I always pictured “guy-ness” to smell. Woodsy and spicy, but not overpowering. I sigh in contentment. I actually feel a low growl pass through Jeff’s body. Oops, I forgot. Bad Kiera! Moaning makes Jeff react in unpredictable ways. This is rather fun. I feel like a seductress.
    As the dance ends, we move to the side of the floor where William is waiting for us by my chair. After Jeff gets me settled, William gives me a hug and shakes Jeff’s hand as he instructs, “Jeff, take good care of this one, she is pretty important to me . My wife used to babysit her mama and she has taught my granddaughter, Grace, so much about independence since her car crash.”
    “Yes, Y our Honor. Of course, I will, sir.” Jeff stammers, a distressed expression on his face.
    “Young man, unless you’re standing in front of my bench, I want you to call me William,” he says with a bemused expression.
    Jeff looks like someone has punched him in the solar plexus, “Yes, sir. I mean — William.”
    William pulls out his card and writes his cell on the back. “Kiera, you already have this number, so make sure he calls me if he needs anything, you hear,” he says with a warm smile. I watch with odd fascination as Jeff’s hands tremble with uncertainty when he takes the card from William. This is a totally different side of Jeff. Sure, he had told me that he struggles to control his shyness. However, to see it on full display is just peculiar given the level of familiarity between the two of us.
    “I’ll take good care of him I promise. He’s pretty special to me,” I solemnly vow.
    “I plan to hold you to that promise, Pretty Girl. I think he’s suitable for you. I haven’t ever seen you smile this much. Good night folks. Drive safe,” With those parting words, he left the dance floor.
    The DJ announces the last song of the night. It is Garth Brooks. The Dance . Jeff bows in front of me, “Milady? May I have the last dance on your dance card?”
    “Absolutely,” I utter as I beam, unable to even almost pretend to be demure.
    Jeff gently scoop s me up to his chest and gave a country two-step flair to our version of the waltz. His musicality is amazing. “Where did you learn to dance?” I ask.
    “Who do you think my big sister practiced with all those years?” Jeff answers with a lifted eyebrow.
    “Remind me to thank her,” I retort.
    “I owe her a big thank you as well. Donda taught me about full service dating,” Jeff explains. “Still, even I couldn’t imagine all that’s happened tonight. I’m here with the most gorgeous woman in the room; I got to play wingman while you slayed the office bully, got a turn at playing Florence Nightingale, danced like Patrick Swayze and got an Oregon Supreme Court Justice’s private cell number  Don’t pinch me…I don’t want to wake up from this fairytale.”
    I kiss the side of his jaw, “ Yes, this night is pretty spectacular.” I agree. “Add ‘working on the art of the perfect kiss.’ and I say you’ve nailed the highlights. The best part is that it’s all true.” I tilt his chin down and kiss him with everything I have. It’s probably not my brightest idea because Jeff is so startled by my bold move that he practically drops me. However, he quickly recovers and adjusts his grip so that he’s holding me more securely and continues to kiss me with the delightful thoroughness.
    The sensations are overwhelming. I can feel the texture of Jeff’s light wool jacket against my shoulders, the heat of his hands where they are supporting me, and I can hear his heart rate increase as we become lost in the magic of our kiss. I forget that we are in a public place with his