Free Whispers at Willow Lake by Mary Manners Page B

swallowed hard. “I mean, we can ride the cycle.”
    “Good.” She let him take her hand as they started down the walk toward the boathouse, where he’d parked the Honda. When they’d made it nearly halfway down the walk Ali paused.
    “Where’s that light coming from.”
    “You’ll see when we get closer.”
    “Ryder, what have you done?” Delight tickled her belly. “There’s a bench, a lantern…and flowers—lots of flowers.”
    “You said you still love to read, so I made you a garden—a reading garden. It will give you a place to relax when you’re not tending to guests, or baking your soon-to-be-world-famous-scones.”
    “It’s…lovely.” She smoothed a hand over a swirl of wrought iron and couldn’t help but tease. “Can we stay here now? I have a new book—”
    “Later.” He grinned, tugging her past the bench. “The night is waiting.”
    “Where are we going?”
    “To the symphony.”
    “Ryder.” Ali stiffened and stumbled over a cobblestone. Her delight fled, replaced by trepidation. “I’d rather—”
    “I know you’re scared. But I’m asking you to trust me.” He leaned in, smoothed a finger over the bracelet. “Why did you wear this tonight?”
    “I’m not sure.” Ali fought the wasps that stung the inside of her belly. She’d planned to leave her wrists bare, but at the last moment had felt led to wear the bracelet. “I guess I’m in a sentimental mood.”
    “Me, too.” He brushed his lips over hers. “That was a good night, wasn’t it?”
    She couldn’t speak, so she nodded slightly as they entered the boat house. His bike waited, and he handed her a helmet.
    “Please, trust me, Ali.” He skimmed her cheek with callused knuckles. “Tonight will be even better.”
     
     
     
     

10
     
    Ryder was home. As he and Ali sped from the inn that night, the realization firmed like cured cement. Watching the lights glow and the lake shimmer in his rearview mirror while they pulled down the drive, he was certain he’d never be content anywhere else. He and Ali shared a love of Willow Inn—and a love for one another.
    Ali slipped onto the blanket he’d spread over the grass near the band shell. As she nestled close, her citrusy perfume filled his senses and mottled all thought except the truth at the very core of his being.
    He loved her.
    His will, not yours.
    “I got some popcorn and sodas.” Ali slipped a kernel into her mouth. “Josie’s across the way. She said to tell you hi. She said to tell you your second order of books just arrived.”
    “I’ll pick them up next week.”
    Listen to your heart, Ryder, and seek His will.
    Hearing his heart was no problem; it pounded through the cotton fabric of his polo.
    “Here’s your drink.” Ali handed him a bottle of soda. “Are you OK? You look flushed.”
    “It’s a bit warm.” He tugged the collar of his shirt as she eased in beside him. The music started, filling the air with the song of violins.
    “There’s Maci,” Ali whispered, pointing discretely to a willowy, cinnamon-haired woman seated at center stage beneath the lights of the band shell. “Isn’t she wonderful?”
    “Yes.” Ryder slipped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer as the music washed over him. Ali’s eyes slipped closed, and he knew she was feeling the gentle cadence building to a crescendo, just as their love for one another grew. “I’m glad you came with me,” he murmured into her ear before planting a gentle kiss along her jawline. He’d never felt such depth of emotion…such need.
    “Can we stay for the fireworks?”
    “Mmmm…” He kissed her again. “I believe they’ve already started.”
    Much later, the crowd cleared and the sky morphed from smoky-gray to a deep, nearly translucent blue. The scent of gunpowder lingered, an after-effect of the fireworks. Ali nestled beside him, her eyes still filled with wonder at the brilliant display of light.
    “You thought I’d forget, didn’t you?” Ryder twined