The Lake House Had One Bed Left for Our Parents' Wedding Week, So I Shared It With My Soon-to-Be Stepbrother novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Get in the Canoe

The canoe rocked under us, and Jack's paddle dipped without a sound.

We were out in the middle of the cove, a hundred yards from the dock, with the moon laid across the black water and the lights of the lake house small and yellow behind us.

He shipped the paddle.

The canoe drifted.

"This was your idea," he said.

"It was."

"What was the plan?"

"I thought we'd talk," I said, and climbed over the middle thwart on my knees, and the canoe rocked so hard he grabbed both gunwales.

"Kate."

"Hold still."

I settled into his lap facing him with my knees on either side of his hips, and the canoe steadied under us.

He was warm and solid, and his hands came to rest on my waist.

"Is this safe?" he said.

"No."

"Good."

I kissed him.

It was slow, deep and hungry, and I felt him harden against me through two layers of cloth.

His hands slid under my shirt and up my back and held me against his chest.

"You went quiet on the porch," he said against my mouth.

"So did you."

"I know."

"We can talk later," I said. "I don't want to talk."

"What do you want?"

I took his hand and put it between my legs.

He felt the heat of me through my shorts, and his breath caught.

"This," I said. "And one more thing."

I reached into my pocket and put the bullet in his palm.

It was small and smooth and silver, no bigger than a lipstick, and he turned it over under the moon.

"Where did this come from?"

"My toiletry bag."

"You brought this to your father's wedding."

"I travel with it," I said. "Don't judge me. It's been a long two years."

He laughed, deep and soft, with his forehead against mine.

"I'm not judging. I'm incredibly grateful. But I'm not doing this in a canoe."

"Why not?"

"Because I want both hands, and I don't want to drown you."

I leaned back and looked at him.

"Then take me to the dock."

He had the canoe back at the pilings in four minutes.

He tied it off and handed me up onto the boards and spread the old picnic towel from the stern across the planks at the very end, where the dock jutted out over deep water.

The planks were still warm from the day.

Frogs sang all along the shore.

"Lie down," he said.

I lay down on the towel and looked up at a sky so full of stars that it made me dizzy.

He knelt beside me and drew my shorts down my legs, slowly, and my underwear with them.

Then he sat back on his heels and looked.

"Don't do that," I said. "I'll get shy."

"You won't."

"I might."

"You won't," said Jack, "because I'm going to tell you everything I see, and you're going to listen."

He turned the little bullet on with his thumb.

It buzzed in the dark, a low, busy hum.

He touched it to the inside of my knee.

I jumped.

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