“What if I’m not the Jake who leaves?”
9
Jake
Sweet Jesus! He’d said it—said he wanted to be her Jake, her real Jake. And he knew he’d spoken the words because Natalie’s jaw had nearly dropped to the sandy beach.
She closed her mouth, shook her head, then headed toward a cluster of bushy pines, casting long shadows in the setting sun.
“I don’t think you know what you’re saying,” she whispered over the sound of the water.
But he did. He knew exactly what he was saying. After his conversation with Hal, it had all become crystal clear. Staring out at the vast ocean of Natalie green waters, it seemed so simple. He’d lost his way. He’d forgotten what mattered. But there was a way out of his empty life, and it was right in front of him.
Choose hope.
Choose love.
Choose Natalie.
She was his kiss keeper. Since he was a boy, she was the constant reminder that there was good in the world, and now he had a chance to be with her—to be loved and to give love, real love like what his parents had shared.
He and Natalie had a spark from the moment they met. A connection that bound them together. He knew it every time he touched her, and she felt it, too. He could see it in her eyes each time she smiled at him.
He wasn’t just another Jake to her.
But, holy shit! What was he supposed to do now? She’d volunteered to take over the camp. The very camp he was tasked with acquiring.
His thoughts spiraled as he tried to piece it all together.
Did his conversation with Hal set in motion this idea to offer the camp to his family? And not in a million years would he have imagined that Natalie would volunteer to run the show all by herself. But isn’t this what he wanted—to have her and to be able to experience the magic of Camp Woolwich?
He wanted to come clean and tell who he was and what he was really doing there, but now, with her taking over, what would she think of his con? Her ruse had been so innocent. She merely wanted her family to think she had it together. But his deception meant uprooting everything she loved and stealing the camp out from under her family.
He couldn’t tell her—at least, not until he could figure out what the hell to do with Charlie. And what was up with his boss? Text after text, asking for updates. It was like the guy was obsessed with this place. Then, as if the old man could sense it, his damn phone chimed an incoming text.
He pulled his phone and, sure enough, it was from his boss.
Where’s my update? I expect an answer.
He shook his head and pocketed his cell. When he looked up, he found Natalie tugging a weathered, half-beaten to hell rowboat from behind a cluster of trees.
“What are you doing with that?” he asked.
She looked down at the old boat. “Not flying.”
He glanced at the calm waters, glittering with the last rays of sunlight. “It’s getting late. The sun’s almost set. You can’t take that thing out on the water.”
She dragged the boat past him and edged it into the ocean. “I know this coastline like the back of my hand, Jake. I need to think, and being on the water helps me put things into perspective.”
But he needed to keep her on dry land because he had to talk to her.
“You shouldn’t steal that boat, Heels.”
She chuckled. “I’m not stealing it. It belongs to Fish, and I promise you, he won’t mind if I borrow it.”
He took a step toward her. “Natalie, I meant what I said.”
She adjusted the oars then froze. “Jake, if you hadn’t noticed, my life just dramatically changed. I need some time on the water,” she replied, not meeting his gaze.
With one last pull, the rowboat pitched forward then rocked in the shallow waters. Steadying the boat, Natalie climbed in and settled herself on the center bench.
He paced the shore. “Where’s your lifejacket?”
“Right here,” she said, holding up a pair of sagging orange floatation devices. “Two to choose from.”
She strapped one on, then gripped the oars, but he couldn’t let her go. His gaze bounced wildly between the little boat and the vast expanse of water. The same waters that had taken his parents. But he wasn’t about to lose Natalie, too. She needed to understand that he was all in. And that started by getting his ass in that rickety as hell boat.
Sprinting through the salty water, he caught up to the tiny boat, gripped the bow, and hoisted himself into the creaky vessel.
“I didn’t think you did water,” she said unblinking.
He glanced from side to side as the boat evened out. “I don’t. But I also don’t do commitment or relationships, but here I am.”
She rested her head on the handle of the oar. “Jake, you don’t have to be here.”
He stroked her cheek. “I don’t think you understand how much I do.”
“You can’t understand,” she said with a shake of her head.
He leaned forward. “I know how important Camp Woolwich is to you. It’s important to me, too. You’re important to me. Can’t you see, we’re good together, Heels, and I never thought I’d find you.”
She frowned. “Find me? We’ve only just met.”
The rowboat drifted in the current, and he strapped on the other lifejacket.
Shit! He couldn’t screw this up, but that meant walking a fine line.
“Find someone like you. Someone who filled the part of my heart that I thought would always remain a gaping hole,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth.
Her features softened. “Is that why you don’t do water? Did you have a bad experience?”
He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythmic sway of the boat. A sensation that used to be a comfort. He could almost hear his parents, chatting quietly, as he drifted off to sleep in their trim little Herreshoff sailboat.
He rubbed his hands on his thighs and released a tight breath. “Yes, I lost my parents in a sailing accident when I was thirteen. I grew up on the lake in northern Michigan. My mom and dad were both solid sailors, but they were in unfamiliar waters and, a storm came in.”
She took his hand into hers. “Were you with them?”
He swallowed hard. “No, I wasn’t there. It was just the two of them. They were on a special trip, celebrating their anniversary, and I was...” he trailed off and stared at the land—at where he’d been, safe at Camp Woolwich, while his mother and father drowned out at sea.
“Oh, Jake. I’m so sorry,” she said, filling in the silence and saving him from telling her the whole story.
He nodded. “After that, my life changed completely. My parents had me late in life. My grandparents passed before I was born, and my mom and dad didn’t come from large families. My uncle, my dad’s brother, took me in. He wasn’t happy about it. For the next five years, I worked my ass off on his dairy farm after school, and he never let me forget that I was a financial burden to him. The day I turned eighteen, I left and never looked back. I thought that making money, lots of money, would make me feel complete and fill that damn hole in my heart. I never wanted to rely on anyone but myself ever again.”
Natalie stared out at the water. “I know a thing or two about wanting to feel complete. That’s why I can’t let the camp get sold off. This is the only place where I feel whole. I love my parents, don’t get me wrong, but after they divorced, I became secondary to their careers—a part-time daughter. But when I’m here, I know who I am. I—”
His phone chimed, and she released his hand and sat back. “You can get that if you need to.”
He slid the phone out to find another message from Charlie, and all he wanted was to be free. “I don’t need to check anything. In fact, I’m done with that part of my life.”
“Done with making buckets of money?” she asked.
He nodded, then chucked the phone into the ocean.
Natalie gasped. “You know, you could have blocked your work calls.”
>
He shook his head. “No, it needs to be a clean break. You and those sexy as hell shoes led me here and reminded me of the person I want to be in this world.”
Shock and confusion marred her features. “You’ve known me for a day and a half, and I know it sounds crazy when I say this, but I’m cursed when it comes to love.”
This damn Kiss Keeper Curse! He had to figure out a way around it.
“Natalie, you know I’m right about us. You know there’s something more between us than two people pretending to be a couple.”
“I know, but I’ve been wrong so many times,” she said, focusing on the space between them.
“Six times isn’t so many times,” he pressed.
Pain flashed in her eyes. “Six broken hearts and all of them from Jakes. I’m starting to think that I’m not meant to have anyone. Maybe I’m supposed to be Jake-less.”
No, she couldn’t be right. There was a reason he’d ended up back here with her. They were meant to be together. But how the hell was he supposed to convince her when he couldn’t reveal that he was her kiss keeper?
He glanced over at the shore and saw the outline of the old abandoned lighthouse. The abandoned lighthouse that wasn’t far off from the Kiss Keeper’s well. An idea sparked, and he grabbed the oars and started rowing.
Natalie gripped the sides of the boat. “Where are you going?”
“To break a curse,” he answered, slicing the oars through the dark water.
She stared down at her feet. “I don’t think it can be broken, Jake.”
He had to try.
He rowed into a shallow, sleepy cove, and the boat grazed the ocean floor. Without waiting to hit dry land, he jumped out and pulled the boat onto the pebbly sand.
“That structure over there. It’s the abandoned lighthouse, right?” he asked, playing stupid. He knew damn well where they were.
“Yes, this is the old Wiscasset lighthouse. How do you know about it?” she asked as he helped her out of the boat.
“Finn mentioned it when we were fishing today,” he lied. “It’s close to that well, right? The Kiss Keeper’s well?”
“It’s not too far,” she answered, watching him closely.
“Tell me more about this curse,” he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the lighthouse’s crumbling outbuildings.
“The whole Kiss Keeper tale started with a young man who lived here and the kiss he never got to have with the young woman he loved.”
They passed the lighthouse tower, and he ran his hand over a battered railing.
“Does anyone know what really happened to them?”
She released a heavy sigh. “I don’t think so. Nobody knows what’s fact or fiction anymore. All I ever heard was that the Wiscasset family used to mind this lighthouse. Otis Wiscasset was a young man who was supposed to take over the lighthouse after his father, but he’d fallen in love with a girl named Muriel Boothe. But Muriel’s family was quite well-to-do, and they didn’t want their daughter to marry a lowly lighthouse keeper. To make matters worse, her parents decided to send her back to England, that’s where they were from, to try to stop the budding romance. But it was too late. She and Otis Wiscasset were already in love. The legend has it that the night before she was supposed to be shipped off, they’d agreed to meet at this well to have their first kiss. But it’s said that Muriel never showed up, and Otis disappeared, never to be seen again.”
That’s how he remembered it, too.
“Curses have to have a way to be broken. I think it’s a rule or something,” he said, imagining Otis Wiscasset’s pain when he realized the woman he loved was gone. Christ! What would he do if this didn’t work?
“Which way to the well?” he asked, anticipation building in his chest.
Yes, he knew the answer, but needed to maintain the ruse.
“That trail will lead us there,” she answered as they headed into the woods.
The thick coastal canopy of trees diffused the last rays of light. Shadows played off the foliage, but neither of them slowed. It was as if the well were calling to them, beckoning them back to the place where they first met fifteen years ago as strangers and left as cursed kiss keepers.
They passed a thicket of blackberries, and the sweet scent transported him back in time. Back to that night when he stumbled, blindfolded down the path that led from the teen boys’ cabin to the old well.
“Jake,” she whispered. “We’re here.”
It seemed crazy that they’d visited the well just this morning—like a thousand years had passed instead of less than a dozen hours. Hal was right. The hours did feel more like months here.
He led her to the stone structure, then took both her hands into his. “What if I kissed you here?”
She stared into the dark well. “The legend says that it has to be a first kiss offered up.”
The heaviness in his chest made way for a lightness that centered him and slowed the hammering beat of his heart.
“What about a last kiss?”
She released his hands and took a clumsy step backward. “Holy crap! You are a part-time serial killer.”
He gathered her into his arms. “I don’t mean your last kiss ever. I mean that I want to be the last Jake you kiss.”
“That still sounds pretty serial killer-ish,” she answered, eyeing him closely, but she didn’t pull away.
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “How about this, I want to kiss you and then keep on kissing you.”
She looked away. “I’m not just some girl that you swooped in and rescued from her family’s ridicule. I have real responsibilities now. I can’t fail, Jake. Too much is riding on this for me.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder and brushed her collarbone with his thumb. “I understand, Heels, and I want to help you.”
“You want to help me with Camp Woolwich?” she asked with a skeptical twist to her words.
He had to break through this barrier she’d erected.
“I want to be with you. If that means Camp Woolwich, then so be it. I want you, Natalie.”
She stared down at his hand, resting on her shoulder. “What about your real life back in Denver?”
He slid his hand up to tilt her chin, then held her gaze in the misty darkness. “Nothing in the past fifteen years has been more real than the last two days I’ve spent with you.”
“Wow, that sounds a lot less serial killer-ish,” she said as wonder edged out the thread of disbelief in her voice.
Her walls were coming down. Could this place really be enchanted, or was the connection between them too strong to ignore? One or the other, that didn’t change what he knew in his heart.
“Let me kiss you, Natalie. Let me kiss you, and let’s put any talk of a curse behind us,” he whispered into the air like a prayer.
The hint of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You want to be my seventh Jake?”
He shook his head. “No. I want to be the Jake who makes love to you every night and wakes up with you in my arms each morning.”
She released a shaky breath. “That also definitely doesn’t sound like a serial killer thing to say.”
He closed the distance as his lips nearly grazed hers when she startled.
“What is it?” he asked, looking around for…ghosts or whatever creepy things hung out around old wells.
“We should do this right,” she said, then tore two strips of fabric from her lobster bake luau skirt.
“You want me to blindfold you?” he asked.
“And then put one on yourself. That’s how the kiss keeper works. The guy and the girl are supposed to be blindfolded. If we’re going to try to break this curse, we might as well do everything,” she replied, handing him the strips.
She had a point.
He took the fabric and pressed it over her eyes. “Is that okay? It’s not too tight?” he asked, gently tying the blindfold.
She pressed her fingertips along the edge of the frayed material. �
��It’s perfect. Now, it’s your turn.”
He stared down at her just as he had when he’d removed his blindfold all those years ago when the night patrol threw a wrench into their first kiss.
“Jake, are you ready?” she asked.
“Hold on,” he said, securing his makeshift blindfold.
They stood there, frozen in time. It was like being thirteen again, except now, there was a lot more riding on this kiss.
“Hey, Heels?” he said, resting his hand on her hip.
“Yes.”
He wanted to tell her everything. In the inky blackness, while wearing a blindfold decked with tiny lobsters, he wanted a clean slate. He wanted to erase the past fifteen years and confess, but her voice halted that train of thought.
She pressed her hands to his chest and twisted the fabric of his shirt. “Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
In the space of a breath, he forgot his past. He forgot the heartache of losing his parents and the emptiness of a career spent wheeling and dealing and amassing a fortune that never felt like enough. Here, in this place, he was solely Natalie Callahan’s kiss keeper. He pulled her in close and pressed a whisper-soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.
She hummed a contented sigh as the sound of the hypnotic ebb and flow of the ocean carried in on the night breeze. At Camp Woolwich, a million miles from where he thought he’d end up, holding the girl he could never forget, he was home.
“Natalie, I…” he began, not even knowing where to start when she pressed her index finger to his lips and silenced him.
“I think we need to go big time on this kissing business,” she said with a smile in her voice as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You want big time?” he asked, lowering his voice.
“Curse busting big time,” she challenged.
He gripped her ass, lifted her into his arms, and held her flush against his body. “Challenge accepted,” he answered, then captured her mouth in the exact opposite of anything that could be described as whisper-soft.
The Kiss Keeper Page 15
