She nodded, leaving her backpack and feeling free as she hurried to the little cabin on the end. The key slid into the lock with a delightful click, and she turned it and stepped inside. It was the typical New England rustic decor, with bears on the comforter and fake (at least, she thought they were fake) moose antlers over the bed. She shut the door and went to the bathroom, washing her face and straightening her hair the best she could.

She heard him come in, and she found herself hesitating to go back out, staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed, and her whole body was tingling, like a limb that had gone to sleep and was just waking up.

What was happening seemed so out of character for both of them-it seemed too fantastic to be real. Was she really sitting in her Ancient History class right now, looking out the window, chewing on a pen cap, and dreaming all of this? Part of her thought that must be the case. When she opened the door, he was standing by the open window, looking out at the lake. He smiled at her and held out a hand. She took it, still marveling at his touch, and joined him. The sun was brilliant on the water as it rippled toward shore.

“Look.” He pointed toward the mallards that were paddling toward the reeds. As she watched, she saw a mother duck leading her little downy ducklings all in a row for a swim out on the lake.

She watched them in wonder, all too aware of James’ body, his hip against her hip, his hand moving around her waist. “I wonder which one is going to grow up to be a swan?”

He smiled down at her, his attention shifting, his eyes falling to her mouth. “This one.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her. This wasn't like the tentative kiss in the car. This one was full of passion and an eager longing that matched her own. She whimpered against his lips, seeking his center with her tongue.