Tiffany and Pat rode in the back seat of his parents' car, holding hands in the dark. Pat's father was on cloud nine. He had won the parlay bet when the couple's dance scored a 5 out of 10. The best part of the evening for Tiffany, however, came later when Pat gave her the letter. The line that would always stand out in her mind was "Thank you. I love you."

When Tommy died, Tiffany thought she'd die as well. Nothing filled the void he left behind, not pills, not other men (or women), not anger, nothing. Then, from out of nowhere, Pat Solitano had crashed into her world. He was crazy and had no filter on his mouth, but he was also the most caring and kindest man she'd ever met. It didn't hurt that he was handsome and charming with a totally hot body. She kept looking to her across the darkened back seat to make sure he wasn't some kind of a dream. Every time she looked, he was looking back at her.

They arrived back at Pat's parents' house close to midnight. It was Philadelphia in late December so pretty cold out. Pat's mom invited her in for a drink or cup of coffee but she said she was tired and wanted to get home. Pat's father handed him the keys and told Pat to see her home.

She only lived a couple of blocks away but it seemed to take forever for the car to reach the driveway that led to her tiny converted garage apartment. Pat jumped from the driver's seat and walked around to open her door, "Wow, I don't know how to act. You're not insulting me or being weird." He just smiled and took her hand, "I'm being romantic, remember?" She found herself too nervous to snap a witty comeback which was unusual, to say the least.

She unlocked the door and he followed her into the dance studio. As she took off her coat, he lit a couple of candles on the small table near the door. Then he turned and took her in his arms, "May I have this dance?" He began to slowly waltz her across the floor. "But, Pat, there's…." before she could finish her sentence, his lips were on hers. His hand traveled down her back, settling low on her hip, and pulled her body against his. Her arms went around his neck and pulled his head lower into a deeper, hotter kiss.

They were no longer waltzing across the floor. This was a different kind of dance. His hands were exploring her body, pulling at clothing, unfastening buttons and snaps. Hers were busy doing the same. Within minutes, they were skin to skin, their lips never losing touch with each other's body. He pushed her back against the wall next to the mirror and with a hand high on the back of each thigh lifted her just enough. Her legs wrapped around him and their bodies became one.

The sensation of his skin, his tongue, his breath against her neck, all combined to make her head spin. Her breath came faster as their urgency increased. "Pat," she cried out and they both shuddered in ecstasy.

Even after their lovemaking, he didn't seem to want to let her go. It was like he wanted to know every inch of her. She had a similar exploration in mind so she took his hand and led him up the stairs to the one room of the second floor, her bedroom.

The moon was full and bright in the clear, cold December sky. It provided all the illumination they would need as their bodies continued to find each other, to learn each other's strengths and desires. It wasn't until sometime near sunrise that they feel asleep wrapped around each other.

Tiffany woke before Pat and lay looking at the beautiful man beside her. He was actually smiling in his sleep. That seemed like a good sign. She wanted him to be happy. He deserved it after all he'd been through in the past year and so did she. Pat slowly opened his eyes and stared down at her, "G'morning," he mumbled. She reached up and pressed her hand to his cheek, "It is, isn't it?" They both chuckled.

Pat lay a while longer with her and they talked about the amazing events of the previous night. They'd danced and done pretty well for beginners in the competition. Pat's father had won big on the parlay bet. And most importantly, they had finally been truthful with each other about their feelings. It felt like they had turned a corner with no more visions of past mistakes still showing up in the rear view mirror.

He had to take the car back to his Dad so he got up and got dressed. She lay under the sheet and watched him. This was what she had wanted from the first time she saw him at the disastrous dinner at her sister's house. He bent down to kiss her before leaving and she held onto his arm for a moment, "Pat, is this real? Is something this good really happening?" He smiled, "This is our silver lining, Tiff."