Page 66 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

She tilted her head, arms still around his neck, and she murmured, “I can’t go back in there with all of them. Especially not after—”

Ethan pulled back abruptly, and Julia almost gasped at the suddenness, her eyes wrenching open in surprise.

“That thing with Emily,” he started. “She and Inever—”

“Ethan,” Julia cut him off. “You don’t have to explain. It’s none of my business—”

“It is,” he said fiercely. “It is. And I want you to know. Nothing happened between her and me. I think she always had a thing for me, but I let it slide. I didn’t think she’d do anything that stupid and crazy, that’s for sure,” he ended on a grumble.

Julia gave him a half smile, and he felt the relief in his chest, the tension releasing like a balloon.

“Same,” she said quietly, tracing her finger over his chest in an absent manner, seeming almost unaware that she was even doing it. “Noah kissed me. I didn’t expect it. Or,” she added, bemused, “really want it, to be honest.”

Ethan could feel his expression darkening. As much as the kiss hadn’t made him happy, he at least would have hoped she’dwantedit. Otherwise, it made him consider other possibilities, more painful ones that would have to be inflicted on Noah Booker in particular for forcing himself on her.

She must have caught his expression, because she shook her head quickly. “Not like that. I just mean it caught me by surprise, that’s all. I thought he and Katy were friends, or close enough that he would keep himself contained for the duration of the stay here.” She shrugged, trailing off. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner.”

Ethan didn’t know what she meant exactly, but shrugged it off, bringing his hands up to her face to gently stroke her cheeks with his thumbs. When he kissed her again, it was slower, more intentional, tasting and touching, licking into her mouth and reveling in the moment.

She shivered, and he almost took credit for it as an emotional response to his kiss, when he realized that she was actually cold.

They had taken refuge from the storm by running into the shed, but that didn’t mean that their wet clothes weren’t sticking to their skin.

“We should go in,” Ethan said begrudgingly, unsure where their time in the shed would have gone, but with enough heat coursing through his veins—accumulating in certain areas in particular—that he had hoped it wouldn’t have come to such an abrupt end.

Any thoughts of things ending or where they would go from there, however, were swiftly halted as he watched her pull her shirt up over her head and push him gently back until he stumbled on a wooden bench, inadvertently sitting down.

“Let’s stay here instead.”

23

What are youdoing what are you doing what are you doing—

Julia’s internal monologue provided zero help or solace when it came to the decision she was currently making.

It felt like eight years ago all over again. She wanted to kick herself for even initiating anything, knowing what had happened in the past. Not learning from one’s mistakes—it was the stuff of fools. Wasn’t that the whole point about making them? Making sure not to repeat them?

But no, instead she was leaning into it. Leaning into it so hard that it felt exactly like the same mistake all over again, as if she hadn’t had all this time to dwell on the last one and how spectacularly wrong it had gone.

And why?Why?

Because she wanted it? Wantedhim? Probably always had, if she were being honest with herself. And whatever happened, whether he rejected her completely in the end or they went through with it this time, at least she would have her answers.

After all, she knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere, regardless. They had no future together no matter what happened in this shed, away from the house and sheltered from the rain.

But at least in this moment, if they did go through with it, she would have him. He would be hers—not for a lifetime, maybe, but at least for her dreams. It was where he had stayed for so long that it felt like home for him now anyway. She kept it locked up inside her heart, pulling out the old memories like pictures in an album to sift through in the times when she was the loneliest or the saddest. This would just be another photo to add. A snapshot that would, perhaps, change the theme of the album from nostalgia and regret to something a bit warmer. Not happier, per se, but…gratifying. The bittersweet pleasure of coming to the ending of a good book.

And although she couldn’t say for certain the direction things were going to take right then and there, she had a pretty good guess. The way he was looking at her, eyes running over her body as though his hands wanted to do the same, with a hunger that she had only seen before in glimpses, the peripheral vision of a sidelong glance but now fully developed for her to take in.

Still, he kept his fists clenched at his sides, seemingly trying to get his fill with just his gaze. He was worried, she realized. Worried, maybe, that he had somehow misinterpreted her words or gestures. That he was going to do the wrong thing. His uncertainty made her want him all the more—made her believe that he wantedthisjust as much as she did, but was worried about what the future would hold for them.

All we have is now,she wanted to tell him.It’s all we’ve ever had. And that’s okay.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she realizedshe’d been waiting for him to speak, to say something,anything, before she did. In the end, she’d waited for nothing. Because instead of speaking, he finally grabbed her and pulled her to him, winning the war with himself over touching her.

Hands ran up her back, gliding over her bra and then under the straps, not moving or removing, but instead justfeeling. Taking inventory of all the remaining clothing and skin and impediments and advantages.

She leaned into him, burying her face in his neck and breathing him in, and he held her even tighter, drawing her closer to him, over his legs, until she straddled him where he sat on Norman’s old workbench.