Page 72 of The Kiss Keeper
The thick coastal canopy of trees diffused the last rays of light. Shadows played off the foliage, but neither of them slowed. It was as if the well were calling to them, beckoning them back to the place where they first met fifteen years ago as strangers and left as cursed kiss keepers.
They passed a thicket of blackberries, and the sweet scent transported him back in time. Back to that night when he stumbled, blindfolded down the path that led from the teen boys’ cabin to the old well.
“Jake,” she whispered. “We’re here.”
It seemed crazy that they’d visited the well just this morning—like a thousand years had passed instead of less than a dozen hours. Hal was right. The hours did feel more like months here.
He led her to the stone structure, then took both her hands into his. “What if I kissed you here?”
She stared into the dark well. “The legend says that it has to be a first kiss offered up.”
The heaviness in his chest made way for a lightness that centered him and slowed the hammering beat of his heart.
“What about a last kiss?”
She released his hands and took a clumsy step backward. “Holy crap! Youarea part-time serial killer.”
He gathered her into his arms. “I don’t mean your last kiss ever. I mean that I want to be the last Jake you kiss.”
“That still sounds pretty serial killer-ish,” she answered, eyeing him closely, but she didn’t pull away.
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “How about this, I want to kiss you and then keep on kissing you.”
She looked away. “I’m not just some girl that you swooped in and rescued from her family’s ridicule. I have real responsibilities now. I can’t fail, Jake. Too much is riding on this for me.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder and brushed her collarbone with his thumb. “I understand, Heels, and I want to help you.”
“Youwant to helpmewith Camp Woolwich?” she asked with a skeptical twist to her words.
He had to break through this barrier she’d erected.
“I want to be with you. If that means Camp Woolwich, then so be it. I want you, Natalie.”
She stared down at his hand, resting on her shoulder. “What about your real life back in Denver?”
He slid his hand up to tilt her chin, then held her gaze in the misty darkness. “Nothing in the past fifteen years has been more real than the last two days I’ve spent with you.”
“Wow, that sounds a lot less serial killer-ish,” she said as wonder edged out the thread of disbelief in her voice.
Her walls were coming down. Could this place really be enchanted, or was the connection between them too strong to ignore? One or the other, that didn’t change what he knew in his heart.
“Let me kiss you, Natalie. Let me kiss you, and let’s put any talk of a curse behind us,” he whispered into the air like a prayer.
The hint of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You want to be my seventh Jake?”
He shook his head. “No. I want to be the Jake who makes love to you every night and wakes up with you in my arms each morning.”
She released a shaky breath. “That also definitely doesn’t sound like a serial killer thing to say.”
He closed the distance as his lips nearly grazed hers when she startled.
“What is it?” he asked, looking around for…ghosts or whatever creepy things hung out around old wells.
“We should do this right,” she said, then tore two strips of fabric from her lobster bake luau skirt.
“You want me to blindfold you?” he asked.
“And then put one on yourself. That’s how the kiss keeper works. The guy and the girl are supposed to be blindfolded. If we’re going to try to break this curse, we might as well do everything,” she replied, handing him the strips.
