He smiled, looking right into her soul. “No, no one is out there.”
She pulled back, claiming her seat beside him.
“That’s the best part. Around this time, every night in the summer, the owner plays jazz. It’s like it’s for everyone else’s enjoyment.”
Old houses and now this? Where had this man been hiding all this time?
“I just wanted to show you. Now, off to the restaurant,” Noah said, pulling the lever into drive.
“I’m glad you did.” She smiled, gazing at his perfect profile. Being with Noah was like a chance to relive her twenties. Her twenties lost to motherhood, sleepless nights, diapers, worry, and all-consuming, unconditional love for another tiny human—so much so that it was all a great big blur.
They drove two more blocks into the small town center and parked in front of an old yellow cottage with an expansive front porch.
“We’re here,” he said, pushing down the parking brake. “The next big farm-to-table restaurant on the North Fork.”
“This is adorable,” she said, her hand going to her heart. “What’s it called?’
“The Hive.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“Let’s go in. I can come back out later for the banquettes. I want you to meet Gretchen.”
It felt like a big deal for him to want her to meet his sister, especially when they barely knew each other. Dahlia followed him up the staircase, feeling like she might trip. She was high on Noah and all of the beautiful things he was opening her eyes to.
“Hey, is anyone home?” he called, walking past the mismatched tables and chairs, which gave an eclectic and artsy vibe.
Dahlia grinned, running her hands over the ironwork. This place was right up Lil’s alley, and she would have swooned over every last detail.
“You’re here! Finally!” A tall woman with long auburn hair, overalls, and Doc Martens emerged from the back.
At first glance, Gretchen was cooler than Dahlia expected. Dahlia jammed her hands in her pockets, not feeling artsy enough. Style-wise, Dahlia was sandwiched between the creatives and academics. Never really knowing where she fit in.
“What took so long? I was about to close shop and go home.” She gave Noah a long hug and looked directly at Dahlia. “And who’s this?”
“Dahlia. I’m his neighbor for the summer. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“I know. He told me all about you.” Gretchen gave a weak smile.
“Oh.” Her voice peaked. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d told her, but then remembered the barbecue. “The food was amazing the other night, thank you.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
They exchanged pleasantries and a few jokes at Noah’s expense. Dahlia could tell they were close by their playful banter. She looked on fondly, remembering the painful nights after her parents died, staring at the shadows on the wall, wishing she had a sibling to ease the loneliness and pain.
“Have you seen what my brother can build?” Gretchen asked.
“A little.” Dahlia shrunk, realizing she’d been so consumed with herself and Lil’s house.
“Well, take a look at the hutch he built for my pantry.” Gretchen walked through the door into a narrow alley.
“Wait, you built this?” Dahlia said, running her hands over the smooth finish. It was just one more quality to admire. After being with the least handy person alive for fifteen years, Noah was a breath of fresh air. Dahlia ogled him, feeling the air in her lungs stall, waiting for his reply.
“Guilty.” He shrugged.
“He tried to match it to the period of the house with some craftsman details,” Gretchen boasted.
“The carvings in the doors, very arts and crafts, and the color. This peacock blue is delicious.” Dahlia giggled. “Sorry, how I think of color is probably how you think of food.”
