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“One point for Casanova,” I joke, tugging her gently so that we walk to the stairs descending to the water and dock.
“I had no idea this place was even out here.”
“It’s a local secret, I’d say, even though half of the surrounding towns spend special occasions and birthdays here. You can also always find the same fishermen drinking at the bar on any given day.”
“Why is it empty now? Is it closed?” she wonders aloud as our shoes hit the dock planks.
Holding her fingers laced in mine a little tighter now, I make sure to traverse slowly. “Dockland’s has always been closed on Mondays and Tuesdays to give the owners a night or two off. It’s a family place, much like our restaurant, and I know how tirelessly they work. But I called in a favor to get us a private meal.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I would have settled for anywhere, even in town. You probably could have convinced me.” She looks sheepish when I glance back.
“You deserve something this special, and every romantic moment I’ve been witness to between my parents has taken place here. Or I’ve heard about it. This is where my dad proposed to my mom.” I smile at the thought.
Gabrielle sucks in a breath, and I hope I’m not spooking her with how big a hold this place has on my heart.
“Plus, Nate, the owner’s son, needed some last-minute garlic for a dish they were serving. I sold him ten crates for half price. He owed me.”
“And you used that to cash in a date with me?” She almost sounds like I’d be nuts to waste that on her.
“I’d use any clout I had to call in something to impress you.” I say this earnestly as we enter the gazebo.
The table is set with a white cloth and teal plates that match the color of Dockland’s exterior. Steaming rolls and salted butter sit in the middle, along with two lit candles. The only sounds are the hum of boat engines nearby and the lapping of the lake waves against the dock. Pulling out her chair, I make sure Gabrielle is seated and comfortable before I round the table and sit across from her.
“This is amazing.” Her gaze takes in the entire lake valley, a hidden treasure that leads back out to the river valley through a narrow channel.
“I’ve always loved it here, and don’t let it slip, but they have the best clam chowder on the East Coast.”
“I think Maine and some of the like might disagree with you.” She chuckles as she observes the small menu Nate and I cooked up for tonight.
“Evening, miss. I won’t bother saying hi to this knucklehead, because he’s badgered me about making this perfect for a week now.” Nate comes up to the table with a bottle of wine, and I flip him the bird disguised as scratching my nose. “But, of course, we’d pull out all the stops for a beautiful woman like you.”
“Stop flirting with my date.” I nearly growl.
He smirks and ignores me. “Tonight we have our famous clam chowder soup and shrimp cocktail for an appetizer, then Liam chose the tuna steak and lobster roll for you to split as entrees, with our caramel cheesecake for dessert.”
I cringe. “Shit, I probably should have asked you if you like seafood.”
Nate snickers next to me, and I send him a glare.
“Luckily for you, it’s my favorite genre of food.” Gabrielle grins, then looks to Nate. “That all sounds fantastic. I can’t wait to try it.”
“Good, I’ll pour you some wine and leave this guy to screw up this date because I surely won’t.”
Another glare is directed at him until he scurries back to the main restaurant, and I pick up my glass. “To not screwing up this date even if my childhood friend has hexed me.”
She clinks her glass to mine. “I have a feeling there would need to be a meteor strike to ruin this night.”
My dry throat is thankful for the bite of the white wine.
“To be honest, this is the first time I’ve been on a date in … well, years,” she admits.
Nate is walking back down the dock with our appetizers, and I refrain from asking anything more until he’s out of earshot.
Gabrielle ladles her soup as it’s finally clear to ask why. “That surprises me, looking at you. I mean, not that dating is all about looks. You’re obviously way smarter than anyone I know, too. But … shit, I’m putting my foot in my mouth. Why haven’t you dated?”
I look like a rambling, nervous idiot, and it probably shows I haven’t been on a date in my whole life.
To her credit, she’s only giving me a gracious smile. “I don’t know. The older I got, the more I was just resigned that I wouldn’t meet someone who ticked all the boxes. That maybe I’d just at some point decide to have a baby on my own or something, that I didn’t need the dream husband and the picket fence. I got caught up in work and pleasing my family, although my mother’s constant nagging about marriage was also probably a deterrent. Anyways, I haven’t been on a date in a long time. And never one as romantic as this. So Liam, you don’t have to be so nervous. I’m having a wonderful time, and you’re knocking it out of the park.”
