Love on the Lake (Lakeside 2)

“Oh.” I tear my eyes away from him and shoot my soon-to-be sister-in-law a warning look.

“Where do you want this?” Van asks, still out of breath.

“With the back of the couch facing the wallpapered wall, please.”

Dillion shoves the last of the muffin into her mouth and wipes her hands on her jeans, then decides that’s not going to work and washes them in the sink. While Van and Aaron move the couch into position, Dillion and I grab the cushions from the truck.

When we return, Aaron is standing by the fridge, drinking a root beer, and Van is holding a mostly empty glass of water while drooling over the muffins.

“The ones on the small plate are jamless; the rest have strawberry jam in them. Feel free to help yourself,” I tell them as I put the cushions back on the couch.

“I love you more than words, sis.” Van shoves an entire muffin into his mouth.

I cringe and look away, not wanting to see the sugar and cinnamon sprinkling the floor because he’s failed to use a plate.

“You need to try one of these, man, they’re the best,” Van says to Aaron through a garbled mouthful of food.

“I’m good, thanks.”

I keep my eyes averted, telling myself that I shouldn’t be hurt because he doesn’t want to try my muffins. Feeding people has always been part of my love language. I started not long after my mom passed away, maybe because I remember her always making treats for us. Every day we’d come home from school and there would be some kind of baked goodies: fresh bread, healthy muffins, and on Fridays there would be cookies or what she called “treat muffins.” I stopped eating them when she passed away and started making them instead.

“Seriously, have one.” Van holds the plate in front of Aaron, and he caves, probably because he doesn’t want to be rude.

Two seconds later a low groan comes from the other side of the room.

“I told you. Teag makes the best muffins. And cookies. And biscuits. And bread. If there’s flour involved, she’s basically a wizard.”

I laugh at that. “It’s a hobby.” But I feel a tinge of pride as they both reach for seconds. I might not know what I want to do with the rest of my life, but at least I know I’m good at a few things that make people happy.

I add the throw pillows and take a step back. I still need end tables, a coffee table, and some art, but it’s coming together.

Dillion stands next to me, her hands on her hips. “This really brightens it up.”

“Thanks. I wanted to delineate the space since it’s all one big room, and the best way to break it up is with some color and pattern.” I’m planning to paint the wall behind the bed, too, to give it some dimension, and I’d like to get one of those room dividers to make the bed feel separate from the rest of the living space.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I don’t have anything planned.”

“I have a meeting with a homeowner on the other side of the lake. They’re renovating their pool house. Maybe you want to come along and see if you have any ideas on how to make the most of the space?”

“Sure.” I shrug. “I can do that.”

“Great.” Dillion beams. “I can tell them what kind of wood to use and what cabinet styles would work, but I don’t have the eye for color that you do.”

I wave the compliment away. “I spend a lot of time on Pinterest.”

“Pinterest terrifies me. I’ll start looking at cabinet ideas, and three hours later I’m staring at bare-chested guys.”

“Ahh, yes, it can be a rabbit hole for sure.”

The ping of a phone has us all checking our own.

“I should head out.” Aaron shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“Thanks for your help today.” I motion to the couch.

“No problem. Thanks for the muffins.” He kneads his neck. “Sorry I ate so many of them.”

There are only two left on the plate.

“Don’t worry about it. I can always make more, and they’re best when they’re right out of the oven.”

“Not gonna argue with that. I’ll come by tomorrow morning and get the baseboards up so I’m not in your way.” His gaze shifts to Dillion. “Then I’ll head over to the Winslows’ and work on finishing up the landscaping there since it’s supposed to be a nice day.”

“Works for me,” Dillion says.

“See y’all later.” And with that he’s out the door.

“Is it me, or has Aaron been throwing out the vibes?” Van points at me, but he’s looking at Dillion.

“I wasn’t paying attention to anything but the muffins.” Dillion nudges me with her foot, as if to say, See, I’m not the only one who’s noticed.

CHAPTER 8

GIVE ME THE DIRT