“Elizabeth, you’ve made your point. I’ll make amends. Now call me so I can help.”
Lou had reached for the phone, tempted to let Devlin clean up the mess of her failing business. It would be easy for him to pay vendors, fire employees, and get out of contracts. She could move in with him tomorrow; he’d asked her a million times. It would be so easy to fill the role he had created for her, to sell her dreams for their safe, comfortable routine. Wasn’t that what she’d been doing before she found him with Megan? But then she imagined bumping into Al, his expression when he saw her with Devlin. Lou shuddered. He would know she had taken the easy route—and so would she.
“Are you cold?” Al asked, breaking into her thoughts.
They hadn’t said much during the last few blocks. Al turned his head to Lou, waiting for her response.
“A little.” Lou gave a small smile and put her sweater on. As she stepped off the curb to cross the street, a small car screeched around the corner. Al grabbed her right wrist and hauled her back toward him, using his right arm to wrap around her back and hold her steady against his chest. The car zoomed away, missing them by a wide margin. Lou found Al staring into her face with wide, fiery blue eyes. His hand pressed against her lower back, holding her firmly against him, all of him. His other hand still grasped her wrist. Lou’s left hand landed on his chest, spread against the cool cotton of his shirt. She still had yet to breathe after the surprise of finding herself so close to him. Both froze, no breath between them, only the heat where their bodies touched.
She could feel the pulse on her wrist where Al began circling his thumb. Lou’s fingers pressed into his shirt, not pushing him away, but trying to grab on to him. Their eyes still locked, he pulled her even closer.
“Get a room!” shouted a voice from a passing car.
Al and Lou stepped apart and took long breaths.
“So sorry. I thought that car was much closer.” Al looked at the traffic as it passed. Lou straightened her purse so the bag hung against her front hip.
“No need to apologize. Feel free to save my life anytime. I like to encourage that type of behavior in my friends.”
Al’s eyes crinkled and he laughed, the tension gone. Lou sent a silent thank-you to the heckler. A moment longer and Lou’s resolve to keep their relationship out of the bedroom would have fallen into the nearest hotel room.
Al took Lou’s arm and set it on his.
“Since you are clearly not capable of safely crossing the street, I’d best keep a hand on you.” Lou chuckled and they walked the last few blocks to Summerfest arm in arm.
• • • • •
Once they were through the gates of Summerfest, the crowds tried to sweep them away. Keeping their arms looped together, Lou navigated the torrent of revelers, guiding them toward the lake, crossing perpendicular to the flow of traffic. Al turned his head in every direction, trying to take it all in. At first glance, one main thoroughfare went parallel to the lake through the center of the grounds. He could hear country music from his left, rock to his right. Was that Meat Loaf?
In front of them, a play fountain materialized between the bodies. Attendees of all ages stood barefoot in the splash zone, cooling their feet after walking the festival in the hot summer sun all day. It was about nine o’clock, the sun long gone behind the nearby overpass, leaving the warmth rising from the blacktop as the only reminder of its earlier blazing. People poured in, ready for a warm night of music and beer at the world’s largest music festival. Families, who spent the day when it was less crowded, wandered toward exits, strollers and exhausted children in hand.
Lou pulled Al free of the masses and onto a grassy area beyond the splash fountain. People dotted the grass, resting, snacking, and a few even sleeping.
“Whew. That crowd always makes me question why I come to Summerfest. Thankfully, there are roads less traveled.” She led him toward the lake.
They stopped to enjoy the view of the lake; the mishmash of music combined to make a hum in the background. Attendees blanketed the breakwater rocks, resting and absorbing the serenity. Despite the crowd, it was peaceful. Al took a deep breath. He smelled the slight fish odor common on Lake Michigan’s shore, hot grease, and the ever-present vanilla scent of Lou. The breeze fluttered Lou’s unbound hair. That combined with the summer dress made her look soft and vulnerable. Her eyes closed and she breathed deeply; Al couldn’t look away.
“Mmmm. And this is summer in Milwaukee. Crowded, loud, sometimes a little stinky, and more fun than you can possibly imagine.”
“Is that the tagline from the tourism board?”
“Perhaps that’s a new career path for me.”
“Absolutely—tourists will come in droves.”
“It’s a gift; I know what the people want.” Lou opened her eyes and caught him staring at her.
He snapped his gaze back toward the lake and cleared his throat. “So, where is this band we’re seeing?”
“It’s on the south end. We’ll grab a beer at one of the stands. Usually one of the local breweries sets up down there.”
“Who are we seeing again?”
“West of East. They have a folk, country, singer/songwriter vibe. I went to high school with both of them. I like to go to shows when I can, which means not as often as I want.”
“Are they good?”
“For shame, Al. Have I ever led you wrong? Not to mention, they wouldn’t be performing at Summerfest if they weren’t wonderful.”
“I think I heard Meat Loaf on the way in. Care to change your opinion?”
“It’s a music festival. They need to cover all types of music—even the kinds you don’t like. I imagine he’s sold more records than you have.”
“Everyone has sold more albums than I have.”
“Then zip it and enjoy the music.”
Al and Lou purchased beers and entered the stage area. Bleachers formed a U shape around several rows of benches, all facing the small stage. The area sat about two hundred people, and almost all the spots were taken. Al took Lou’s free hand and led her toward the top row. Two spots appeared between the seated attendees, but not side by side.
“You can sit there, and I’ll sit behind you,” Al said, pointing to the lower bench.
“Works for me.”
Lou settled herself into the spot, then scooted forward to avoid bumping his knees.
Al leaned over. “Feel free to lean back; I promise I won’t spill beer on your lovely frock.”
“No worries if you do. I make it a point to own all beer-proof clothing.”
Lou pulled her hair out of the way so it wouldn’t get stuck and gently settled her shoulder blades against Al’s knees.
Al leaned over to get closer, a smile flirting on his lips. “We’ve explored art, beer, custard, baseball, and music. But I’m still not sure I’m convinced Milwaukee is as brilliant as you claimed.”
Lou turned. “Really? I think you just like excuses to hang out with delightful little me.”
She smiled and set one arm on Al’s knees. Al tensed as her hand settled gently on the crisp khaki he always wore. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, revealing a stretch of smooth skin. Al wanted to trace a line from her earlobe to her shoulder with his lips, maybe find the source of her alluring scent, but instead took a deep breath to focus on her words.
“Well, since you claim you aren’t convinced—we’re entering the peak of festival season. For the rest of the summer, there will be a different ethnic fest here each weekend. I have to work, but you should come with someone. This fest, Summerfest, is all about music, whereas the ethnic fests each celebrate a different culture. They’re tons of fun, a lot less crowded, and each has its own spin on food and music. You’ll probably enjoy Irish Fest—it covers all of the UK—and there’s Festa Italiana, Mexican Fiesta, and German Fest. There’s usually a tent where you can learn the history of that culture in Milwaukee. It’s a great crash course in Milwaukee’s past.”