Page 97 of The Kiss Keeper

“It is the last night of camp,” she tossed back.

“And the anniversary of our first kiss,” he answered, remembering the blindfolded mystery girl, standing in the moonlight.

They dressed quickly, and he pulled on his cap as they left the main house. It was easier living there, in the center of camp, than staying in their little cottage. And thank God, they had the place to themselves. Hal’s health had improved, and he and Bev had left for a cruise around the world right before camp started. But to be on the safe side, he and Natalie had hired an architect to draw up plans for a cozy one-story bungalow right on the water, which would allow the Woolwich camp founders to relax, but also be close enough to enjoy camp life—when they wanted.

He grabbed the flashlight next to the door and took Natalie’s hand as they fell into step and started the loop. He didn’t mind night patrol. With his wife by his side and the ocean’s quiet, rhythmic lullaby woven in with the buzz of the woods at night, it was hard to think of anyplace he loved more.

They rounded the curve and headed toward the well when Natalie stopped and squeezed his hand.

“Jake, look. I think it’s Finn,” she whispered as two blindfolded forms awkwardly approached the well.

He led her behind a wall of spruce pines, and Natalie leaned into him as they peeked out through the needles, watching the nervous teens. He rested his hand on her shoulder, and, like he’d done that first night and probably a hundred times since they’d reconnected, he brushed his thumb across her collarbone.

“Looks like the Kiss Keeper legend lives on,” she said, staring up at him with no blindfold between them.

“And it always will,” he replied, then leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, offering up another kiss.