But it isn’t.
Our lips slowly move together, charged with attraction like sparks catching fire. I forget that we’re on the porch, forget the family around us, forget everything except him…until Ihearthem.
“Oh my gosh, you two!” Noah barks. “Get a room!”
We pull apart, breathless and flushed.
The porch bursts into laughter, whistles, and applause.
“Camila, you’re in trouble,” Rhett says.
You’re telling me.
Dane stands and claps Hess on the back so hard the swing jerks. “We'd better stop the joking there. Things need to stay PG. Kids are running around, for cryin’ out loud.”
My cheeks burn, but I can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or from the kiss.
Hess
We’re standing on opposite sides of the bed, tugging pillows off, pulling the blankets back in unison, and I literally feel like Camila and I have been married for fifty years. The small, mundane actions that make up a lifetime with someone. That’s what I want. And recently, I’ve been feeling that it’s what I wantwithCamila.
So, despite the charged air between us, despite her shorter-than-short pajamas and slouchy off-the-shoulder top that always seems to slip down, I’m keeping my hands to myself.
I want something real. Something lasting.
Not gratification for one night only.
“Sorry about my family earlier. They don’t have boundaries. But tomorrow will be different. They’ll back off.”
“Don’t apologize. I thought it was funny how they teased you. I always wanted to grow up in a family like that.” She pauses, her fingers brushing the quilt as she meets my gaze. “I used to get so mad as a kid that I didn’t have a family.”
“You have a family.”
“I had a mom who worked all the time or who was off trying to find her next husband. I wanted loud family dinners where the food wasn’t cooked in the microwave or eaten in front of the television.” A sad smile plays across her lips. “I wanted what you have.”
The honesty in her voice knots something in my chest. “You can still have that.” I want to saywith me. You can still have that with me.But it’s better if Camila figures that out on her own than have me say it to her.
She has to want it as much as I do.
She shakes her head, masking her vulnerability. “I don’t even care about that anymore. Just a childish dream I got over.”
Before I can say something, Camila climbs into her side of the bed, leans over, and turns off the lamp, plunging the room into complete darkness. I do the same, lying there stiff as a board, clinging to my side of the mattress. I never said having boundaries was easy.
After a beat, she whispers, “About that kiss earlier?—”
“Can we please not talk about the kiss right now?”
There’s silence, then she lets out a little giggle.
My head turns, but I can only see her outline. “You’re laughing?” But my words just make things funnier. I reach one arm out, tickling her side. Her body writhes and coils, trying to get away from me as she laughs.
And then—CRACK.
The mattress dips violently inward like a soggy pancake as the slats underneath give way. We both roll helplessly into the middle, our bodies colliding, legs tangling. She yelps, and I curse under my breath.
“I think we broke the bed,” she says.
“Wait ‘til my brothers find out about this.”
