Page 143 of The Wild Card

“Emmie.”

“Crew.”

I glance over my shoulder. Foster and Sadie are on the couch, arguing about what movie to watch. If I’m quick—

I spin her around and kiss her, fast and hard. She squeaks in surprise, then sinks into it, her damp hands gripping my shirt.

“Subtle,” she whispers when I pull back.

“I’m past subtle.”

“I noticed.” She’s flushed, breathing fast. “How much longer do we have to—”

“Hey!” Sadie calls from the couch. “We’re thinking a night hike. That trail you mentioned, the one that loops around the property? Foster wants to see it.”

“I do?” Foster says, then grunts like someone elbowed him. “I mean—yes. I do. Love a good night hike. Very outdoorsy.”

Emmie and I exchange a look.

“You two should stay here,” Sadie continues, her voice dripping with fake innocence. “Someone should keep the fire going. Watch the cabin. Make sure no bears get in.”

“There aren’t any bears here,” I say.

“Better safe than sorry.” She’s already up, hauling Foster to his feet. “We’ll be at least an hour. You kids have fun!”

“Subtle,” I mutter, echoing Emmie.

“You’re welcome!” Sadie sings as she drags Foster out the door.

The cabin goes quiet.

Emmie and I stand there, dish towel still in her hand, looking at each other.

“So,” she says.

“So.”

“We’re alone.”

“We are.”

A beat of silence.

Then we’re crashing together.

I lift her onto the counter, and she wraps her legs around my waist, and pulls me in. The kiss is hungry, messy, all the pent-up want from the entire day finally spilling over. Her hands are in my hair, tugging. My hands are everywhere—her waist, her hips, sliding under the hem of her shirt to find warm skin.

“Been thinking about this all day,” she gasps between kisses.

“All day?”

“All month.” She bites my lower lip, and I groan. “Do you know how hard it’s been, living with you, wanting you, pretending I didn’t—”

I kiss her again just to shut her up. Just because I can.

We migrate to the couch without breaking contact, a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths. I end up on my back with her straddling me, her hair falling around us like a curtain. She rolls her hips experimentally, and my hands clamp down on her thighs.

“Emmie—”