Page 90 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

“Easy,” he groaned, grasping her by the waist and supporting her as her knees shook, lifting her up and gasping as she settled back down. They did it twice more before she was fully seated, their pelvises flush against each other.

“Come here,” he whispered, grabbing her by the nape and pulling her close so her head rested on his shoulder. He held her there, one hand at her neck, the other at her hip. Her knees were bent, and the tops of her feet rested on the tops of his thighs, as close as they could possibly be to each other. Then she began to move.

He helped, his one hand guiding her until she found a rhythm, face buried in his neck, breath coming out in shallow gasps. The angle usually didn’t work for her, but this time she found that in every thrust, the feel of him hit just the right spot every time.

She could feel the heat rising from deep inside, spreading over her chest and her neck as her movements became more erratic, more desperate, reaching for the pinnacle that was just within her grasp.

“Gem,” Ethan rasped, his grip tightening on her. “Gem, I’m going to—”

At his words, the culmination of the electric heat within her snapped, and she sat up, riding them both through their joint climaxes, pressing her hands into his shoulders as she came and as he came, feeling the pulsations between them and not knowing whose was whose.

After a lifetime or a few seconds, she collapsed over him, hearts pounding in unison through their joined bodies as he stroked her hair back, their heavy breaths intermingling in the quiet room.

“I hope none of the guests heard you,” he managed to say between breaths, amusement in his voice.

“What do you mean?” she responded as indignantly as she could through her own breathlessness. “I was quiet as a mouse.”

He chuckled softly and pressed his lips into her hair. “Whatever you say.”

“What does this mean now?” she asked, her voice growing more serious. “You said you quit your job.”

“I did.”

“So what job will you have?” she said softly, thinking aboutthe pictures spread out on her kitchen table. His childhood dream.

She felt him shrug underneath her head.

“I want to see where this photography thing takes me for a bit. I have enough saved up, I think I could do it.”

“So you would just walk around and take pictures of me like my own personal photographer? Like I’m Beyoncé?”

He chuckled. “It wouldn’t be just you, though I’m sure I won’t be able to resist all the time. But Icouldhelp you here. I could…I could stay here.” He grew quiet and still, his fingers no longer playing with her hair. “If you’ll have me.”

Ethan staying there, with her. Helping her.

“How?” she asked. She couldn’t exactly picture him hanging bedsheets, though he was a good height for the clothesline.

“I want to help you share this place with others,” he said, as if he had the answer prepared. “I’ll take the pictures that will show the world what this place looks like through the eyes of the people who love it. Through your eyes”—he kissed each of her eyelids—“and mine. The Katy-and-Noah thing helped, I can see. The buzz online is all about this place, and the parking lot was full when I pulled up. I know you don’t need me.” His voice gentled. “But I want to do more. I want to give you longevity and certainty. I want to give you security. What do you think about that?”

“I think,” Julia mused, thoughtful. “I think…” Her expression grew mischievous. “I think the Cabin Room is booked for the next few weeks.”

He let out a laugh, surprise and relief evident in his amusement.

“But,” she continued, sitting up so she could look at him, “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He smiled back at her, his eyes reflecting all the love she knew shone from her own.

“We have time,” he said, nodding in assurance. “All the time we need.” And then he kissed her.

And he stayed.

Epilogue

“This is nice.”

The comment was an understatement, Julia thought, though she was too content to say anything about it, instead relishing the feel of the hot sun beating down on her as she lay on her towel, the sounds and smells of the lake in summer washing over her. She exhaled, long and drawn out, releasing the breath she’d been holding.

Behind her, she could hear the rumble of men’s voices, low laughter as her dad and Ethan’s dad clinked beer bottles together. The families had reunited again at Donwell Cottage for the week, where the scent of woodsmoke mingled with fresh baking and the days slipped by in golden slants of sunlight, soft laughter, and the quiet comfort of being somewhere as familiar as home. Maggie and Katy were set to join them as well in a couple of hours, and Julia had already prepared Victorian Elegance for their stay.