“I’m good. My mood is great this morning.”
He swims to the ladder at the side of the dock and climbs out,droplets running off his broad, carved chest. A wicked gleam flares in his eyes.
“Tate.” I scramble back, laughing deliriously, but he’s too fast, arms coming beneath me. “Tate.”
He lifts me in the air, grinning as he yanks the duvet off. “You’re going to want to keep that dry for later.”
“Iwant to stay dry for later.” I can barely breathe, I’m giggling so hard, kicking and fighting him off.
Who am I? I don’t giggle. I’m supposed to be like Wednesday Addams, cynical and bored.
I break off on a shriek as he throws me into the water like I weigh nothing, and I hit the surface with a splash, the cold water like tiny knives.
“It’s fucking cold!” I yell when I surface, and he laughs from the dock. I think I’m laughing, too. “You asshole.”
“Oh, Jordan.” He shakes his head with a fond smile. “I love it when you get mad like that.”
“I hope you have your will up to date, because I’m going to kill you.” I swim to the ladder. “And I’m taking the guesthouse.”
He leaps into the air and does a cannonball, splashing icy water all over me as I’m halfway up the ladder. Before I can react, though, his big hands come to my waist and I’m hauled back into the water.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs, arranging my legs around his hips.
He presses me against the dock, and even through my shorts and tank top, I can feel his warmth.
My arms slide around his neck. “Inside, where I won’t die from hypothermia.”
He slips his hands beneath my shorts, palming my ass, and god, his hands are so warm.
“Poor Jordan,” he murmurs, bringing his mouth to mine,nipping my bottom lip, my jaw, my neck. “Let’s make out. That’ll warm you up.”
His mouth returns to mine and I smile against it. “What’s gotten into you? You’re...” He’s kissing my neck again, and I don’t feel cold or annoyed or anything except his lips on my skin and his warm hands slipping closer to where I need him at the apex of my thighs. “Lighter. Sillier.” I hesitate. “Happier.”
It’s probably being away from it all, from all his responsibilities and pressure. It’s the fresh air and sunlight and sleeping in a new place. It’s the summer house.
My dumb little heart hopes it’s me, though.
With sharp, stunning clarity, I realize I’m fully in love with Tate Ward.
I’m notfalling,I’ve fallen. I can’t imagine a life without him and Bea. With them, I feel complete, like they’re what I’ve been searching for my entire life.
Like we all belong together.
He makes a low humming noise, pulling back to look into my eyes, a little smile on his lips. “I am happier here. With you.”
I press my lips together and he smiles before kissing me again.
Another realization loops through me, full of energy and intensity. My mom would want this for me. She’dlovethis for me. She’d tell me to be brave and jump into the cold water with both feet.
My father’s regrets replay in my head. He shared them so I could learn from his mistakes.
I want this forever.This,with Tate.This,sitting at my mom’s summer house, watching the sunset with his arm around me and his lips on my temple. Maybe with Bea sleeping inside. In the morning, Tate would make pancakes while Bea and I sit on the dock. Maybe she’d play her guitar.
My heart does a flutter of anticipation. If he doesn’t love me back, if he reminds me firmly that we had a deal until the end of the season, I’ll just—I don’t know.
I’ll be humiliated. Deeply disappointed. Devastated and lost. But if I don’t tell him, I’ll regret it forever, so for Tate and Bea, I’ll be brave.
I just have to figure out how. And when.
