Lake George spread below us in long blue ribbons between dark ridges of forest.
Above the lake, the sky was changing slowly, the gold thinning into orange, then darkening into deep rose as the light settled lower. We stopped at the stone railing, the rough surface cool under my hand.
Liam checked his watch.
“You are extremely committed to whatever schedule you are running,” I said.
“Almost…”
“Almost what?”
He took my hand and guided me a few more steps along the overlook path. We rounded a small bend in the stone wall.
Liam looked up at the sky, then at the lake, “Now.”
I followed his gaze, and my breath caught in my throat.
The sun was just touching the horizon, turning the entire lake a molten gold. The water reflected the sky in wide glowing bands that stretched between the dark mountains. Clouds above the horizon caught the light and turned deep orange and crimson, pouring color across the entire sky. Every ridge and forested hill rolled away into the distance, fading into layers of purple and blue. The lake curved through it all in a long shining path.
“Oh,” I said softly, awestruck at the beauty. Then I sighed. “Well, what a way to go.”
Liam made a sound beside me.
I turned toward him. “You really picked a beautiful spot for murder.”
But he wasn’t looking at the sunset. He was looking at me.
Completely focused.
My stomach did something very strange.
“You’re missing it,” I said.
His expression didn’t change. “I’m not.”
I didn’t know what to do with that, so I stepped closer and kissed him, just a soft press of my mouth against his.
When I pulled back, I said quietly, “Thank you.”
He smiled, and we turned back to the view. Neither of us spoke as the sun slipped slowly below the mountains. The sky deepened into darker reds and purples as the gold faded from the lake.
The wind moved softly across the overlook.
And we stood there together, hand in hand, watching the day end.
Dinner wasloud and warm and full of too many small moments to keep track of.
Liam had ordered an enormous entrée that looked capable of feeding a family of six. He listened to everything I said with that intense attention of his, occasionally asking questions that proved he had been absorbing details I barely remembered sharing. At one point, he moved my water closer to me without interrupting the story I was telling.
It was extremely inconvenient behavior when I was trying really hard to remain emotionally reasonable about this man.
When we were done, Liam held the door open for me, and we stepped onto the sidewalk. The village had settled into the comfortable hum of a summer night.
“There’s an ice cream place just down the block,” he said. “Small place. Family owned. They make everything fresh every morning.”
I looked up at him. “Is that a sales pitch?”
“It’s the best ice cream around.”
