Love on the Lake (Lakeside #2)(49)



Aaron laughs. “I borrowed it from my neighbor. He’s in his early eighties and only drives to the grocery store and back. I take his car to the garage when it needs servicing, so when I asked if I could borrow it, he agreed. It smells like old man, but it’s pretty nice otherwise.”

“I can’t believe your eighty-year-old neighbor drives this, or that he lent it to you.”

“I’m a good driver.”

“I know that. I just mean, that’s a sweet ride. Bradley would never let me drive his Porsche, and I’m family.”

“Oh, well, that’s kind of the way it is around here. And don’t look too closely because Chuck has hit a lot of things while driving that car.”

“Chuck is your neighbor? And he’s eighty?”

“How do you know Chuck?”

“He’s the one retiring from Harry’s Hardware.”

Aaron laughs. “He says that every single year, and then he retires for a month and comes back. I think he likes the party they throw him, and he’s been working there since he was twelve, so they don’t mind celebrating him like that. He’s been a fixture in that place for as long as I can remember.”

“This town is something special, isn’t it?”

“It has its moments, that’s for sure.”

We chat as we head toward Lake Geneva, talking about work. “I’m going to attend the next town council meeting and propose a farmers’ market.”

“We haven’t had one of those in years. Who wants to take on that job?” Aaron asks.

“I thought it would be a good way to connect the community. But maybe it’s too much. I don’t know if people will trust me enough to want to be part of it.” And maybe I’m biting off more than I can chew.

“I think it’s a great idea. Lots of people talk about putting things like that together, but there hasn’t been follow-through. You’ll have tons of interest, and the town loves you, Teagan. If you need suggestions or someone to bounce ideas off, I’m here.”

“Okay. Thanks, I appreciate that. I’ve run events for Smith Financial before, so it’s not outside of my wheelhouse, but being a new face might be a deterrent.”

“Not if you have some old faces backing you up,” he says with a wink and a smile.

Twenty minutes later we arrive in Lake Geneva, which is much busier than Pearl Lake. The whole vibe is different, almost like the city has been transplanted here in some ways. Upscale restaurants line the main street, which is well maintained. The nightlife here is different as well. While my dress tonight would make me stand out in Pearl Lake, here I blend right in. In fact, I feel underdressed and like I should have tried harder, but surprisingly I don’t care what anyone but Aaron thinks.

We arrive at Fresco’s, a seafood and steak house. It’s the kind of place I used to go to all the time. Upscale everything, pretty drinks, and tiny appetizers, the food as much art as it is a meal. For years I didn’t appreciate what I had. How this kind of dinner out should be an occasional splurge and not a weekly occurrence.

And I feel bad that until now I’ve never truly appreciated how hard people work to be able to afford this kind of treat. I would have to save most of my paychecks this week to cover the cost of a single meal here.

“Hey, everything okay?” Aaron squeezes my hand.

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Your face kind of says something different.”

“Really. I’m fine. It’s been a while since I’ve been somewhere as nice as this, and it got me thinking about how I didn’t appreciate it when I had it.”

Aaron brushes a tendril of hair away from my face and places his finger under my chin, tipping my head back. “Then I’m glad I get to be the one to take you out for a fancy dinner, and we can appreciate it together.”

I smile up at him, and he dips down, lips pressing softly against mine.

The host greets us, and a server takes us to our table, which is outside on the patio overlooking Lake Geneva. It’s different from Pearl Lake, the lake bigger and busier. Even from here I can see that most of the lake boasts the same huge homes that take up the north side of our lake. Beaches break up the green swaths along the coast, lit up and lined with restaurants and bars. The water is dotted with party barges, the sound of laughter and music floating across the lake.

I check out the wine list, cringing internally as I note the prices beside each of them. It’s embarrassing that I never used to consider the cost of things until we suddenly found ourselves up to our eyeballs in debt. What’s even more humbling is the fact that some of these bottles cost what I collectively earn in a week. Minus tips from the pub and the diner, anyway. And what I make in tips during one shift at the Town Pub is almost the same as my regular wages at the diner, the pub, and Harry’s Hardware in a week all rolled together.

“What are you going to have to drink?” I ask Aaron.

He grins. “The usual.”

“You mean root beer? Do they even have that here?”

“They better, or I’m going to ask to speak to the manager.” His summer-storm eyes twinkle with mirth. “But you should order whatever you like. And stop looking at the prices, which I know you’re doing.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

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