Page 87 of Room for Us

“You do look a little green. Want me to drive?”

His smile is a grimace. “We’re almost there.”

There is a small clearing outside a one-room cabin that looks like it was built a hundred years ago. A few trees sit beyond it, then wide-open sky. Sunlight floods the area. I suck in a lungful of crisp air touched by moisture from the lake beyond.

Ethan parks and turns off the car with a relieved sigh. After a long look at the cabin, he turns to me with a grin.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“Last one in the lake has to cook dinner.”

He’s out of the car while my mouth still hangs open, running toward the path past the cabin, shedding clothes as he goes.

I take my time following him, not bothering to undress. A breeze slightly warmer than the air teases my neck. Pine needles crunch beneath my sneakers.

I round the cabin just in time to see Ethan, stark naked, running down the small dock toward the lake. For a second, I entertain the thought of calling out to warn him, but settle on enjoying the moment. Besides, he’s beautiful, his bare ass and muscled legs flexing as he runs.

His jump is lovely, high and long. The resulting splash is impressive. The sight of him surfacing, wet and glistening, is delicious—and lasts a second before the cold hits.

His high-pitched screech and frenzied race back to the dock? Priceless.

“You could have warned me,” he grumbles, but his eyes sparkle.

“City boy,” I admonish, tucking a blanket under his chin. “Besides, I don’t mind cooking dinner. Mom packed us a lot of food. And I like feeding you.”

He grins. “You do?”

I nod. “It makes me feel good.”

He wiggles his hips suggestively, a ridiculous smile on his face. “You know what else makes you feel good?”

Laughing, I whack his arm and stand. “Dick jokes for days, this guy.”

His laughter follows me to the kitchenette, where I finish unpacking the bags of food. I’m not sure why I didn’t rip the blanket off of him and reacquaint myself with his body. It’s not like my own body isn’t screaming for his touch.

I lift out the third jar of homemade spaghetti sauce. “How long did she expect we’d be here? There’s enough food here to feed a family for a week.”

I don’t hear him behind me and jump when his lips graze my neck. “I’m not in a hurry, Zoey.”

I turn and frown. “Huh?”

He cups my face, then drops his forehead to mine. “We don’t have to have sex for me to feel close to you. There’s no rush.”

“What? That’s not—I don’t—”

He stops my blubbering with a sweet kiss. “Did you forget that I know you? That we’re made for each other?”

The knot of tension inside me releases. Hope and possibilities shimmer in my mind, slippery notions like true love and happiness. But his words give them substance. I want so badly for this to be real.

“You really believe that?” I murmur.

He smiles, eyes calm and direct on mine. “With complete certainty. No, I can’t explain it. But I know it’s true, as surely as I know I love my daughter. You’re it for me, Zoey. Everything I’ve waited for. We’re going to grow old together.”

My certainty expands, bright and light, diminishing the shadows of my doubts.

I sigh happily. “Okay.”

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