The Lake House Had One Bed Left for Our Parents' Wedding Week, So I Shared It With My Soon-to-Be Stepbrother novel · Chapter 21 of 24

Chapter 21: Stay

The floor creaked, and for the first time all week neither of us cared.

I stood in the middle of the back room with my back to the door.

The window was open to the lake.

The one lamp was on, the quilt was turned down.

The whole tent party still murmured faintly across the lawn, laughing, clinking, a guitar being tuned.

Jack stood in front of me in his white shirt with his jacket on the floor.

"On the porch," he said. "I said something."

"You did."

"I'd like to say it again, with the light on."

"Say it."

"I love you, Kate."

It was very quiet in the room.

He didn't look away, and he didn't wait for me to answer.

He stood there with his hands open at his sides.

"I know it's been five days," he said. "I know it's absurd. I know that on paper, tomorrow, we."

"Jack."

"I'm only telling you what's true."

"I love you too," I said.

His face did something I will never forget.

It broke open, just for a second.

"I love you," I said again, because it felt good in my mouth. "I love you, I love you, you idiot. You told me on a porch with a fern in the way."

"The fern was supportive."

"The fern was a witness."

He crossed the room and kissed me.

It was slow, deep and long, a kiss with no hurry in it at all, and when it ended he rested his forehead on mine.

"I want to take my time," he said.

"You always say that."

"This time I mean it."

He found the tie of my green wrap dress at my waist.

He undid it with two fingers, slowly, and the dress fell open.

He drew it back off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

I stood there in my underwear and the navy scarf and nothing else.

He looked.

He did it for so long that I started to blush, and then I stopped, because there was nothing in his face but wonder.

"Come here," I said. "Let me."

I undid his shirt.

I did it button by button, the way he did, with my mouth against his skin under each one.

His chest, his ribs, the line of hair that ran down his stomach.

When I reached his belt he drew a breath, and I looked up.

"Slowly," I said.

"Slowly."

I took his clothes off him piece by piece.

He let me.

We stood naked in the lamplight, face to face, and he put his hands on my hips, and I put mine flat on his chest.

His heart was going as hard as mine.

He lifted me in his arms and laid me down on the quilt.

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