Lakeside Sweethearts. Lisa Jordan

wandered over to the table for a piece of Mary’s birthday cake. He wanted to see Red more than he wanted that cake.

      All afternoon he tried to keep from staring at her, but with the way the yellow sleeveless dress twirled around her shapely legs or her laugh floated through the air...it was a wonder he had managed to score any points playing cornhole.

      Now that the others had decided to take a break, he snuck away before they started a new game.

      “Nice party, Red.” He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his Dockers and leaned against the deck railing.

      “Thanks, Ian. I hear your team won.”

      “Yes, the red team scored twenty-one points first. Oh, yeah, we rock.”

      “Nice to see you’re a gracious winner. Want some cake?”

      “Sure. Thanks.” He took the paper plate she held out to him and dug his fork through the white frosting and put it into his mouth. “It’s good. So, how many pieces have you had?”

      “That’s not important. You just enjoy your cake.”

      “Manning the cake table? Pretty sweet setup, if you ask me. You can have your cake, and no one will notice if you have an extra piece or two...or six.” He winked and shoved another bite in his mouth.

      “I don’t believe anyone asked. A gentleman wouldn’t notice such things.” Agnes pinched a glob of frosting off the corner of his piece and stuck it in her mouth.

      “You okay?”

      “Why do you ask?”

      “I see the smile, but the light in your eyes is snuffed out.”

      “I’m wearing sunglasses, Ian. Little hard to see any kind of light. Mama invited me to spend the summer here while she hangs out with my memaw back in Texas.”

      Ian’s stomach jumped. His eyes skimmed his parents’ house that edged Mary’s property.

      Agnes next door all summer?

      Yes, please.

      In his head, he did a few fist pumps and shouted, Woo-hoo! at the top of his lungs. He shrugged. “That’d be cool.”

      “Maybe.”

      “Maybe? Why’s that? You and your mom get along pretty well.”

      “Yes, we do, but she won’t be here if I say yes.”

      “What’s the problem? She doesn’t want to go?”

      “She does, and I’m sure she’ll have a great time. It’s just...”

      “So what’s holding you back?”

      “I’m a little old to be moving home again.”

      “There’s a difference between house-sitting and moving back in. I moved back home to help Mom and Dad with Griffin. It’s definitely not permanent.”

      “True. If I’m not paying rent for the summer, then I could put that money toward a down payment for the cottage.”

      “So it sounds like a win-win for everyone.” Including him.

      With Red next door—even for a couple of months—he could show her he was more than a buddy, the guy next door, but the guy she needed to marry.

      But right now he had to get something off his chest...something that wouldn’t make her happy.

      He jerked his head toward the lake. “Wanna go for a walk?”

      Red waved a hand across the yard. “I can’t leave the party.”

      “Just to the dock. I need to talk to you about something.”

      “What’s going on? You look serious.”

      “Let’s walk.”

      He waited while she crossed the yard to tell Mary where she was headed. Mary lifted a hand and waved. He returned the gesture, then smothered a smile as Mary and her friends put their heads together behind Red’s back. He could only imagine what they were saying. And he figured Red wouldn’t like it.

      They cut through the shrubs that ran between both properties. Ian shoved his hands in his front pockets. It would’ve been so easy to slip his fingers around hers. But she’d probably slap him or shove him into the chilly lake.

      The gravel path coiled through the trees. Red teetered on the stones in those ridiculous heels.

      She stopped and placed a hand on his arm. “Hold on. I have a pebble in my shoe.”

      “Wear something practical, and you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

      “What do you know about fashion? You live in faded jeans, shorts or dress pants when you have to be in the office.” Red slipped the sandal off her foot and brushed away the bits of gravel.

      “Woman, one of these days you’re going to break a leg wearing those crazy things.”

      “At least I’ll look cute doing it.”

      “Believe me, Red, you could ditch the shoes and still outshine every female in this town.” He caught a movement behind her.

      A garter snake slithered across the path less than a foot behind her. If she looked back...

      Grasping under her arms, he pulled her to her feet and wrapped her against his chest.

      She pushed away and stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What’s that all about?”

      Ian tightened his arms and glanced over her shoulder. The weeds swayed as the snake disappeared. “I didn’t want you to back up and sit on the garter snake behind you.”

      She screeched, causing him to wince and drop his ear to his shoulder, and practically jumped into his arms. Not that he was complaining. “Relax, Red. It’s gone.”

      He turned her gently so she stood behind him but could see the clear path. He reached for her hand, giving it a little tug. “Come on. Let’s go sit on the dock. I’ll protect you.”

      “Thanks for not laughing at me, Ian.” She clung to his arm and rested her head against his shoulder.

      He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her, squeezing gently. If only he could hold her for the next fifty or sixty years. “I’ll tease you about a lot of things, but your fears aren’t one of them.” He held her hand as she stepped over a muddy patch between the end of the path and the beginning of the dock.

      Waves lapped at the shore. A frog croaked in the weeds. Somewhere along the water’s edge, a couple of ducks quacked, joining in the chorus. Baked earth mingled with the fishy scent permeating the air.

      Red’s heels clomped on the wooden dock. Their shadows stretched over the blue water. Dad’s old aluminum rowboat rocked and knocked against the dock. Tall grasses sprouted between the weathered boards.

      At the end of the dock, they settled in two sun-warmed Adirondack chairs, one painted lemon-yellow and the other fire-engine red.

      Agnes pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and raised her face toward trails of late afternoon sunshine streaking across the dusky sky. She didn’t say anything for a moment. Sliding her glasses back on her face, she faced him. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

      Sighing, Ian rested his head against the back of the chair, kicked off his shoes and toed off his dress socks. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you this.”

      “What’s the matter? Did you find someone who wasn’t afraid of her own shadow in that place?”

      “No, nothing like that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s just that...well, there may not be an Agape House.”

      “Why? What happened?”

      Ian pushed himself out of his chair and stood on the edge