Love Next Door (Lakeside #1) by Helena Hunting

Because it means I get to do the thing I love and be with the person I love more than I’m without her.

“Do you have another box? I’ve already filled this one.” Dillion folds the flaps over and scrawls the words FRAMED PHOTOS across the top of it.

“Yup, got another one right here.” I pass her the empty box and take the full one, moving it to the porch.

We’re getting ready to paint, which means we have to take all the photos off the walls. And there are a lot of them. Probably close to a hundred. As soon as the ice was off the lake, we started preparing the cottage for renos. Over the winter we renovated one of the bathrooms, and we tackled the kitchen this spring. We’ve also started on the garage, which meant ripping off the roof and building up, so we could turn it into a loft apartment and still keep the storage space under it. Dillion’s brother and Aaron are doing all the work according to my specs, and so far it all looks fantastic.

With the kitchen taken care of, we’re moving on to the painting and freshening-up stage. And it doesn’t matter how thorough we think we’ve been; we’re still finding stashes of money hidden in the house. Just like Dillion said, it’s an Easter egg hunt that keeps on giving.

Teagan has been coming up to visit frequently, and I expect that will only increase once the garage is finished. Bradley’s incarceration, and our dad’s unwillingness to call in favors to lighten his sentence, means the next few years are going to be rough for him.

Also, Dad’s finally moving on. He’s going for therapy to deal with his guilt over the loss of our mother, and he recently started dating someone. I think Teagan comes here so she doesn’t feel like she’s intruding.

When I return to the cottage, Dillion has already managed to fill half the box. I reach over her head for the photos that are too high for her to get without a step stool. I lift a picture of me with Grammy Bee from the wall, inspecting it. It was taken in town and shows me helping her out of her ancient truck. Her smile and mine say everything about who we were to each other.

Dillion rests her cheek on my biceps. “Every time you came to town with Bee, you’d always hop out of the truck as soon as you had it in park, and you’d run around to the other side before she could open the door.”

“That door stuck all the time. I didn’t want her to put a shoulder out.”

“I know.” She smiles. “She was forever trying to WD-40 the hinges, but she could never get it to open easier. You’d have to yank so hard on that door, and then when you’d finally get it open, you’d look so relieved, and she’d be so happy. I loved those moments you two always shared, so I captured this one.”

“I didn’t know you took this picture.”

“Mmm. I had it framed for Bee’s seventy-fifth birthday.”

I turn it over and slide the backing out, aware that Grammy Bee always dated the pictures on the back. My name and age are scrawled neatly on the back, and along with it is a note.

I set the picture down and unfold it.

Dearest Donovan,

If you’re reading this, it probably means that I’m gone. I hope you’ve found all the treasures I’ve left for you, and that you’re making the smart choices I know you’re capable of. You were always a wonderful young man, and you’ve only gotten better with age, much like a good scotch ;)

If all has gone the way I hoped it would, you and Lynnie will have found your way to each other. I’ll never forget the way you always headed for the food truck, even though you can’t stand hot dogs. Or the way she’d ask about you as if she was being sly back when you were teenagers and still too obtuse to see what was right there in front of you.

If I’m right about the two of you and you have managed to open your gloriously big hearts to each other, then I’m sure I’m sitting up in heaven smiling down on you.

When you’re ready to make her yours forever, you’ll find what you need in the top drawer of the china hutch in the right-hand corner. Don’t wait too long on that, either, because she’s not one you want to lose.

Love and best wishes for a bright and wonderful future,

Grammy Bee

“I’d say I can’t believe that she’d do this, but it’s exactly like Bee to play matchmaker, even from heaven,” Dillion says.

“It really is.” I set the note carefully on top of the picture and head for the china hutch.

Just as she promised, there’s a small black-velvet bag in the back of the right-hand corner. I slip the small box out. I don’t need to open it to know what’s inside.

I turn to Dillion, standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by boxes and pictures of the life and legacy Bee left for us, and drop to one knee. “You’re my person, Dillion. You gave me a reason to put down roots. You make this place home. You’re my summer love that turned into forever. Be mine, Dillion. Marry me.”

I flip open the box to reveal Bee’s engagement ring. It’s simple and elegant and exactly right for Dillion.

She smiles and nods, eyes bright with unshed tears. “You brought the magic back to this place for me, and you made it impossible not to love you. Of course I’ll marry you. My heart is yours.”

I slip it onto her finger and rise. Taking her face in my hands, I press my lips to hers.

A gust of wind makes the chimes tinkle outside, and I know that we’ll always be watched over with love.