He was so handsome. His black hair was curled wildly, and his blue eyes reflected the gorgeous California sun. He looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.
She walked toward him. The walk felt like it took forever. All her thoughts seemed to be one large mess in her head.
When she stood before him, she heaved a sigh, dropped her suitcase to the side, and placed her hands on her hips.
“I came all this way,” she finally said, as he studied her face. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
He didn’t speak.
His hands extended over her cheeks as he kissed her.
Their eyes closed.
In the sky, planes flew toward the airstrip and back into the sky above.
Still, they kissed.
Charlotte’s heart lifted into her throat.
She felt that they, too, could have flown away.
When their kiss broke, she gripped his hands and pressed her teeth into her lower lip.
Behind them, some guy who waited for Everett’s car to get out of the way leaped out of the driver’s side and hollered, “All right. That’s enough! Some of us want to get home to see our families.”
At that, Everett finally laughed, shrugged, and said, “Welcome to LA. What else did you expect?”
As they drove out toward Silver Lake, Charlotte splayed one hand out the window, while she gripped Everett’s with her left. The radio played songs they’d always known, with lyrics they sang along to. In these moments, she wasn’t forty-one, or seventeen, or anyone, or anything she really recognized. She was just happy. And she was so grateful to find that it was still possible.
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A Vineyard White Christmas
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August Sunsets
A Vineyard White Christmas
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A Vineyard Thanksgiving Page 16
