Kate Hoffmann - The Right Bed? - Your Bed or Mine?

“Silly stuff. Mementos of our grand love affair. There’s a piece of bubblegum you gave me. I was sure it meant that you wanted me. I used to take it out and touch it because I knew it had been in your pocket.”

“That’s a little scary,” Jake teased.

“I know. I was a teenage girl hauling around a huge torch. Everything meant something.”

They climbed the snow-covered steps and Caley walked to the window, peering inside, her hands around her eyes. “It looks the same. I’d imagine this was a beautiful place to visit in its day.”

Jake walked along the outside wall until he reached the second set of windows, then bent down and pulled a stone from a spot beneath the sill. Beneath it, he found the keys.

“How did you know about that?”

“I was here alone one summer and the caretaker showed up. I saw him get the keys. After that, I could get in whenever I wanted.” He grinned and grabbed Caley’s hand and pulled her along to the corner of the house. “See this. These logs were hand-notched so they fit really tight. Durant always used materials from the surrounding forest.”

Jake unlocked the three locks on the front door, then opened it. He stepped aside, waiting for Caley to enter. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”

They stood in the entry hall, an old deer-antler chandelier hanging above their head. The furniture was tattered and dusty, but he’d managed to clean up most of the mess left by the leaky roof and broken windows.

“Wow,” Caley said. “This place needs a lot of work. It seemed like a palace when we were kids, but now I see it for what it is.”

“Look beyond the surface,” Jake said. “Can you see what it could be again?”

“I can,” she said. She walked over to a low bench made of branches and twigs. “But it would take someone with a lot of time and a lot of money.”

“I used to walk through this house and memorize all the details. This is why I decided to become an architect. I wanted to design houses like this. Summerhouses. Places where people relax and have fun.”

Jake felt her take his hand and weave her fingers through his. It was a simple gesture, but he instantly knew she understood. He wasn’t sure anyone else would. But Caley would. It seemed right that he share this with her again. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Though he hadn’t kissed her or even touched her in an intimate way, Jake felt as though they’d suddenly become so much closer. This was who he was now, not the boy she’d known. And the woman standing beside him understood what it all meant.

They wandered aimlessly, Caley taking in all the details silently, as if caught in her memories of the past. Dust motes swirled around them in the light that filtered through the windows. When they passed through a shaft of sunlight, Jake gently pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his mouth searching for a familiar taste he’d come to crave.

“I need you,” he murmured, his lips warm against hers.

Caley looked up at him, her gaze fixed on his mouth. “Show me the rest of the house,” she murmured.

They walked slowly through each of the six bedrooms, Jake pointing out the architectural details that made Havenwoods so special. By the time they got back to the entry hall, Jake was almost desperate to kiss her. But he waited, hoping that this place would work its magic.

It was a great wreck of a house, but it was part of their history together, part of who he’d become. It deserved better than to be consumed by the elements and left for some errant campfire spark to take hold of and burn down.

He’d mortgaged his future to buy it, cashing in his investments, selling his sports car to buy a secondhand SUV. He’d even sold his house in Wicker Park and took up residence in a tiny one-bedroom in a seedy neighborhood, just so he could afford the mortgage and taxes.

It left little for renovations, but Jake felt it was worth the risk. Although, he still hadn’t told a soul he owned it. His father would probably blow a gasket and his mother would never understand. But he had an ally in Caley.

“There are only two things I ever really wanted in my life. And this was one of them,” Jake said.

“What was the other?” Caley asked.

“You,” he said with a devilish grin.

JAKE LOCKED THE FRONT DOOR behind them and returned the key to its spot beneath the window. Caley watched him, her mind flooded with memories of their childhood. She couldn’t count the number of days they’d spent at the Fortress. It had been a magical place, a place all their own.

It was sweet of him to remember, she mused. Even when things had been difficult between them, Caley had been able to count on Jake. As teenagers, they’d argue and pout, but he’d always be the first to come back with an apology—a gift of something he’d found in the forest or a plan for a brand-new adventure or just a silly joke that would make her laugh.

It wasn’t difficult to understand why she’d been in love with him all those years ago. When she was with him, she felt as if she were the most important person in his world. And she felt that way now. There was an honesty between them, a respect that she’d never felt with any other man.

When he stepped back to her side, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pushed up on her toes, dropping a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For bringing me back here.”

Jake slipped his hands around her waist and drew her closer, his mouth covering hers. The kiss was quiet and gentle, his tongue caressing hers in a slow, seductive way.

It was as if they both finally knew that being together was inevitable. There was nothing stopping them anymore. All day she’d been thinking about this, about what even one kiss would do to her. If a kiss could devastate her defenses so easily, what would a night in bed do?

Suddenly, Caley wanted to find out. She didn’t need to weigh the consequences of what she was about to do because she didn’t care anymore about consequences. All she cared about was sharing herself, completely, with Jake.

“Would you like go back to the inn?” she asked.

“I thought we could walk down to the lake,” Jake said. “There’s something else I want to show you.”

“I want to go back to the inn,” Caley said. “With you.”

He stared down into her eyes, an odd expression on his face. Then a slow smile curved the corners of his mouth. “We don’t have to go back there,” he murmured.

“We don’t?”

He pulled her along the porch, circling the house until he’d reached the side that faced the lake. She saw the small log building about thirty yards from the house, connected by a covered walkway. They’d called it the Guardhouse when they were kids, but now Caley knew what it really was—a summer kitchen. When they reached the front door, Jake pulled out his keys and unlocked the padlock.

“You have your own key?” she asked.

Jake opened the door. “Yeah. It comes in handy since I own the place,” he murmured.

Caley gasped, not sure that she heard him right. “You own this cabin?”

“No, I own the whole thing. The house, the property, the rotting dock and the roofless guest cabins. The musty furniture and that old moose head over the fireplace. It’s all mine.”

Caley glanced around the small cabin. A drafting table was set up near the window and a small cot stood in front of the fireplace. She walked over to the table and stared down at the yellowed plans spread out there, recognizing the facade of the main house. They were covered with yellow sticky notes in Jake’s handwriting.

Caley felt her heart warm, suddenly understanding the deeper reasons for their visit. This was his home. And he wanted her approval. “I can’t believe this is all yours,” she said. “How did you get it?”