Resting my palm on her waist, I bring my lips to hers and give her a soft kiss. She wraps her arms around me, pressing closer, and I wonder if she can tell I’m hard. Although it’s not because I was having indecent thoughts about waking up with her this morning . . . I’m like this every morning. But now that she’s kissing me back, my body gets a bunch of new ideas about how we can make the most of our morning. I refuse to think about the fact that it could be our last morning together.

Matt’s words ring in my head. Find a way to make her stay.

Summer pulls back and meets my gaze with a shy expression. Her hair is loose on the pillow, messy from sleep. Damn, she’s gorgeous. Even having just woken up, without a bit of makeup on.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” I say, pressing my lips to her shoulder. “Last night was incredible.”

This time with her has been so much more than I was expecting. She’s so low-drama and sweet. My entire family has fallen in love with her. There’s that l-word again. I can’t seem to help myself from it constantly flitting through my brain, which is completely out of character for me.

I’m about to ask her if she wants to get up, maybe get some coffee, or even pancakes in town at a great diner I know, when Summer trails her fingertips over my chest, then down over the muscles in my stomach. My pulse jumps, and I forget all about breakfast.

The press of her soft curves fitting against me sends a jolt of desire down my spine.

While her hand ventures under the elastic of my boxer briefs, I begin exploring too, testing the weight of her luscious breasts in my palms. Finally, I draw her panties down her legs.

A few minutes later, when I join us, her breath catches in her throat. It’s the best sound, so desperate and need-filled. Of the two of us, she’s the strong one, the one with her life together. She was sent here to help me—and here she is coming undone for me. I love it.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” I growl, picking up the pace.

She moans and clutches my hips in her hands to draw me even closer.

Our lovemaking is slow and unhurried, and completely perfect.

Which is why, when Summer is showered and had coffee, I’m shocked when she walks out of the bedroom carrying her bags.

The crunch of tires in the driveway catches our attention, and I look through the window to see a yellow minivan parked in front of the cabins. The sign on the side of the van advertises rides to the airport.

My neck feels hot, and when I turn to face Summer, everything inside my brain scrambles. “Sweetheart?”