“I suppose you do.” She grins. “I think you always did.”
I lower my mouth to hers and decide it’s the perfect time to show her just how long I’ve wanted her and how many things I’ve imagined doing to her right in this very tree fort.
Ava
Two months later . . .
Lilly is officially the cutest Fern who’s ever graced the stage of Charlotte’s Web, and this production is possibly the best I’ve ever directed.
“What do you think?” Sydney asks me backstage after the cast is gone and the audience has cleared out. Tonight was the last performance of the summer, and Sydney and Lance have been by my side through the whole thing, helping kids learn their lines and overcome their fears of performing in front of an audience. I’m not sure what’s better—watching the young kids perform or the older ones teach them. Either way, this is the best job in the world.
“I think it’s perfect,” I say, smiling. “I couldn’t ask for more.”
“Will we get to help next year?” she asks. “And meet at your new building for drama club?”
I grin. “Absolutely.”
“I can’t wait,” Sydney says, and next to her, Lance gives an uncharacteristically excited fist pump.
“Excuse me,” Jake says, making all three of us turn away from the stage. “I’d like to congratulate the director.” He holds out a bouquet of roses. “For my girl.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t have to do that, Jake.”
He puts the roses on a table between a couple of prop boxes and pulls me into his arms. “I’m trying to get on your good side so you’ll come home with me tonight.”
Between the production and gearing up for my new program, my summer has been busier than ever, but most nights I’m at Jake’s or he’s at my house. Sleep has definitely taken a back seat to other priorities the last two months, and I couldn’t be happier. “You might be able to talk me into that.”
He lowers his mouth to mine, and the teenagers behind him snicker.
“We’ll give you some privacy, Miss McKinley,” Lance says.
I wave to them and smack Jake’s hands away when they drift from my waist to my ass. “Behave,” I whisper.
“I’d rather not.” His next kiss is longer, lingering, and I get swept under the spell of his hands sliding up and down my sides.
“We’ll lock the door behind us,” Sydney calls.
Jake pulls away. “Thanks, Sydney! I always liked you.” Mischief is all over his face. He stills until the click of the back door echoes across the stage, then he pushes me against the wall and snakes his hand up my shirt.
I arch into his touch. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting distracted. I’m back here for a reason, but I’ve got you alone and want to touch.” His mouth trails slowly up my neck, then his breath is hot against my ear. “I have to make up for all those years I couldn’t.”
I flatten my palm to his chest and push. “Don’t be distracted.”
His nostrils flare as his gaze slips up and down my body again. “Maybe I’m trying to calm my nerves.”
“Nerves?”
He swallows hard and backs up a step. “I wanted to wait until the papers were signed and everything was in place for your new theater program. I wanted to let you get that part of your life in order first.”
A chill races up my skin. “First? Like before you did something else?”
“Yeah.” He nods and lowers himself to one knee.
&
nbsp; “Jake . . . Are you . . . Is this?”