Lyrics by Martina McBride:

"And only God could have planned, The steps I've taken, That led me to where I am-Love Land.

Anywhere you hold my hand, Is Love land."

"We don't have to do this you know." Phyllis leaned in closer to him, smiling softly as his arms instinctively wrapped around her. It had been two days since she'd arrived at his door with tears streaming down her face and her heart in her hands. Her greatest fear had been that he'd turn her away, having finally becoming fed up with her constant indecisiveness, but he hadn't. He'd stood before her, listening intently as she spoke. He never interrupted her, never questioned her, never berated her. He simply listened.

Finally, after she'd said everything she knew to say, he'd taken her in his arms and simply held her. She'd vowed to him and to herself that she would never leave the safety and comfort of that embrace again. And for the last two days, she barely had. They'd lived in their own little world, leaving the bedroom only long enough to call for takeout and wait for the delivery. It had been perfect and now they were about to venture out into the cold, cruel world.

"You don't want to go?" She felt him lean back a bit, his eyes reflecting a slight confusion. "I thought you were looking forward to a night out—a little drinking and dancing." He pulled her closer to him again and she watched as a sly smile spread across his face. "I know I was..I can't wait to get you in there and show the whole world how much I love you."

"Yeah…that's kind of the thing. It's just, it's been so wonderful being with you and we've been so happy. I kind of hate to go out there and let the whole world spoil all that." She softly ran her hand against his cheek, her heart dropping at the disappointment she saw in his eyes. "It's not that I'm not proud to be with you. I've never been more proud to be with anyone, but not everyone is gonna feel that way. You know that."

"Since when does Phyllis Abb.." He stopped himself, automatically correcting, "Phyllis Summers care what other people think."

She sighed. "Since it hurts the people I love…the people I care about." Her hands slid slowly down his chest as she felt his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh. "I know your family…"

"Hey. Forget about my family. This is about us. If they aren't happy for us, we can't change that, but I'm not going to let them steal one more second of our lives from us. We deserve this. We've waited a hell of a long time for this."

"You're right. I know you're right." She flashed him a bright smile as he moved to stand beside her, taking her hand and leading her towards the door.

"Thank you." Billy nodded politely to the waiter as he walked away from the table. He looked over at Phyllis who shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You ok?" he whispered, reaching across and taking her hand in his.

"Yes. I'm fine. I just really hope they didn't hire any performers tonight because clearly we are the entertainment. Nobody in here is watching anything but us. I mean it's like we're some kind of exhibit or something. Honestly, the people in this town are…" Her voice dropped off suddenly as she saw Billy abruptly stand.

"Billy," she hissed between clenched teeth. "What are you doing?"

"Well, you said everyone is watching us," he smiled. "I figured we were probably not being very good entertainment." He extended his hand towards her. "Come on."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dance with me. If they want to watch, let's give them something to see."

"Billy, I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I mean no one else is dancing."

"So..we'll be trendsetters." Laughingly he beckoned her, leaning in again and whispering "Do you really want to see me hit my knees and beg? Because you know I will. I have no shame. None."

"Alright, Alright," she grinned as she gripped his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet.

They settled into a slow rhythm as he gently moved her across the floor. She could feel the eyes on them, the whispers of the room growing more insistent with each passing second.

Billy pulled her closer to him, his warm hands stroking her back, willing her to relax. "They still staring?" he asked, knowing the answer by the tension that settled in her neck and shoulders.

She nodded.

"They're just looking at you," he whispered. "Just like I am."

He smiled as he felt her forehead brush against his cheek, her green eyes now staring up at him, "You're a smooth talker, you know that?"

"So I've been told, but it's true. I don't see anything else in this room tonight but you."

There were times the simple beauty of his words could stun her into silence. He had a way of making her feel more beautiful and desirable than any man ever had before. Their connection went far beyond the physical. She'd had that before—many times—but this was altogether different. Billy knew her—the real her—the her that she was often afraid to reveal for fear it would be too much, too honest, too real. He knew everything about her and he still loved her, still wanted her, still needed her. It was difficult to comprehend that kind of love and still hard for her to believe.

She felt his hand run through her hair before it gently cupped her face, and she looked into his eyes just before his lips touched hers. The looks and whispers suddenly no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered was this man, this room, and this moment.

Billy pulled away slowly, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. His smile broadened as he saw the smile on her face. "What's that smile for?"

"You," she grinned. "You're quite the charmer, you know that?"

He nodded. "You know you love it."

"I know I love you," she whispered. "And that's all I need to know."