Page 10 of Beneath the Dawn

He nodded. “You’ll love it.”

The look she gave him all but told him she doubted it, and he couldn’t help but smile at that. Still, he was determined not to give up on her. “We’ll build a bonfire. Insects and beach hoppers won’t come near the fire. We’ll be fine.”

He started to end it with, “Trust me”, but knew that saying such a thing was asking a lot. Although they sort of had a history from that summer back when they were kids, she needed to get to know the man he was now. He figured he had a few weeks to prove that he was a pretty good guy. “How do you like your steaks?” he asked.

“Medium rare,” she replied. “How do you like yours?”

“Medium rare, as well. That’s something we have in common.” He couldn’t wait to discover what else he could add to that list.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“I decided to keep the sides simple, and they’re ready. The tossed salad is in the fridge, and the baked potatoes are warming in the oven, ready to be loaded with all kinds of decadent toppings.”

“Hmm, how loaded are we talking?” she asked, grinning.

“Fully loaded,” he said, grinning back, while playfully flashing his eyebrows. “You won’t believe all the different toppings I have on hand.”

“Sounds like a potato I’ll never forget.”

“You bet. As for how you can help, I was wondering if you’d like to make some lemonade. I left some lemons on the kitchen counter, just in case.”

“No problem. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Dante watched her enter his home through the screened patio, admiring the sway of her hips in the shorts and top. Returning his attention to the steaks, he thought about what had happened on the beach earlier that day. What had caused her to tremble the way she had? Not once, but twice. What had she been thinking about at the time?

He pushed the questions from his mind, once again wondering if his security background mindset was analyzing things it shouldn’t.

***

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re a master griller, Dante. And you didn’t lie about all the toppings you had for the potatoes. As you saw, mine was a little over-loaded.”

He smiled. “There’s no such thing as an overloaded baked potato. Besides, a decent man would never comment about how much or how little a woman eats. I’m just glad you enjoyed everything.”

“I did.” She leaned over the table and, as if there were others around and she didn’t want to be overheard, she said, “And I know that Italian dressing you had for our salads didn’t come from a bottle.”

Dante chuckled. “It came from a bottle, but not one you can buy in any store. It’s homemade from my maternal grandmother’s recipe. You liked it?”

“I loved it! The salad was good and fresh, and adding that dressing made it pop.”

He lifted a brow. “Pop?”

“Yes, it made all the ingredients come alive in a way that my taste buds appreciated.”

“Thanks. And you did a great job on the lemonade, but then I figured you would.”

She leaned back in her chair. “How did you figure that?”

“You’re Ms. Della’s granddaughter. I’d expect she would have passed her secret lemonade recipe on to you.”

Marti couldn’t help but smile at that. “Does that mean you’ve had some of her lemonade before?”

“Yes, every summer that we came here. She would welcome us back with a huge pitcher of lemonade with guaranteed refills whenever we wanted. Dad and I loved it.”

She grinned and said, “I can believe that. Nana was the best. However, there’s no secret lemonade recipe. You just have to know the right mix of water and sugar, and how many fresh-squeezed lemons to use. And notice I said fresh-squeezed lemons and not artificial lemon juice. I can spot the difference the moment I take a sip.”

“I believe you,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe my disappointment after spending a summer here, then going to a restaurant, asking for lemonade, and being let down by its taste.” He shook his head. “Some people don’t know what they’re missing. Are you ready for dessert?”

“I would love a slice of pie.”