Chapter 15
Ali
Jake stood in front of me in full traditional workwear right out of Bavaria.
Culturally accurate as far as I could tell, except his shorts were very short and extremely tight.
I have always found lederhosen hilarious.
And never in my wildest fantasies did I find the style hot, and yet .
. . on Jake? I may have a new lederhosen kink.
He was what can only be described as a slutty mountain man.
Wool socks wrapped around impressively curved calves, bunched just below his knees.
And a lot of defined quads bulged until they met the hot pants–length brown leather shorts.
A floral embroidered decorative flap covered the crotch.
A very fitted gingham button-up in dark green clung to his torso and chest, which were strapped in by crisscrossing suspenders.
His strong hands pushed up the rolled sleeves and exposed more of his rigid forearms.
I dropped my hands from my gasp and opened and shut my mouth a few times, not able to form words. Heat flooded my body. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to stare. I wanted to lust. I pressed my fingers to the space between my eyebrows instead.
“Stop holding your breath, Ali. You’re turning purple,” Jake said.
“Okay, but if I breathe I’m going to laugh.
I’m so sorry—” I couldn’t hold back any more.
I snorted and cackled. Like I’d never heard come out of my mouth.
I put my hands on my knees and let the laughter take over.
Every now and then I’d look up and start all over again.
Jake was enjoying this. He did a little twirl, letting me see his backside.
And oh, that looked so good. Silly. But also so nice.
“Okay. Okay. Let me collect myself here.” A few last fits of laughter before I started to settle.
“You look incredible. I’m sorry I laughed. I wasn’t expecting . . . well, this . . .”
Jake stood with his hands on his hips. He looked like a proper German workman. And with that, I snorted into a fit of laughter again. The kind that made my belly ache. Jake was laughing hysterically too. It felt good. To be laughing. To be surprised by someone. To be sharing this moment with him.
I took a deep breath and wiped tears from my cheeks—laughing tears this time.
“Why do you own lederhosen? And more importantly, why are they so short and so tight?” I said, still catching my breath.
“Okay. I’ll tell you. But this story stays right here. Promise?” he asked.
“I swear on my favorite Louboutins.”
He nodded, probably unsure about what I swore on, but continued.
“Right after vet school, I was invited to take part in a fundraiser for an organization raising money for pro bono animal care and rescue. The fundraiser was a calendar of ‘hunky’ veterinarians across the US,” he said, putting air quotes around the word hunky.
“Each month of the calendar had a theme. I’m sure you can guess which month I was.
” He spread his arms wide to show off his entire look.
I thought about it for a beat and finally gasped when it hit me. “October?”
Jake nodded, closing his eyes and playing it off like he was ashamed. “Barktoberfest.”
“That is the best thing ever.” I snickered into another fit of laughter.
“Hey. Chic had to do it too. He also has lederhosen. But listen. I don’t think anyone in Lakeside knows about that project. I’ve never told anyone. And I’m sure it was long enough ago that no one would remember. I would never live it down,” he said.
“But you’re wearing it now?”
“It’s silly, I know. But you inspired me.”
“You risked exposing your little secret project and all that leg . . . for me?” I asked.
“Yep.” He rocked onto his toes and snapped his suspenders.
I didn’t erupt into laughter again because I was suddenly touched by the gesture.
“That’s really sweet of you, Jake.” I crossed my arms and dug my nails into my forearms. Held myself back from jumping into his arms.
I cleared my throat, shifting the moment. “The origin story of how lederhosen ended up in your closet is safe with me.”
“Good. But now I have to go out there by myself. Know anyone who owns a dirndl to match my vibe?” he said with a wink.
“Okay. You win. No one is going to bat an eye my way after being exposed to those gams of yours anyway,” I said with a wink back.
“I run a lot of miles for these—I should show them off. Shall we, fr?ulein?” he said, popping out a bent arm for me to take.
I hopped off the throne of cans and smoothed down my skirt.
I felt small impressions on the backs of my legs from the cans.
I tossed my milkmaid braids to the front of my shoulders and grabbed his arm.
“Did I ruin my makeup?” I asked, quickly turning my face toward him so he could examine the damage my tears had caused.
“Um. Here. One little smudge under the eye,” he said as he brushed his thumb gently across my cheek. It was so tender. Intimate. “There. You look beautiful,” he said with more sincerity than I had ever felt in my life. It made me blush, and I gulped slowly.
I turned my attention back forward. “Oh here. Let’s carry out some of the auction baskets,” I said, and I handed Jake a basket full of orange and white blocks and a couple of rounds of cheese wrapped in wildflower-print cloth that Maggie Jo happened to have available.
A couple of dark bottles stuck out the top in the center.
Mine was similarly decorated but offered different varietals of cheese and spirits.
“These look great!” he complimented.
“Thanks. It was a team effort. Now . . . Let’s see if that butt of yours can increase auction bids.”
“Hey, that reminds me. Misha called me Dr. Love Paws earlier. What was that about?”
“Misha is a master of the nickname. He already has like five for you,” I said. “Not to worry. They’re all complimentary.”
We pushed open the swinging doors to find a rambunctious crowd enjoying the night. It felt like the entire town had shown up. Any fear or worry I felt before Jake found me in the back was replaced with pride and joy.
When the crowd took in the sight of Jake and me, they started to clap and hoot.
“Pretty sure those are for you, Bavarian Beefcake,” I said to Jake.
“If you say so, Bavarian Bombshell,” he retorted.
His flirty banter. All his attention. Focused only on me. I hated to admit it, but it felt good. Too good.
“Jake! When have I seen you wear this before?” Jake’s receptionist shouted from a few feet away, coming toward us. She was trailed by another woman. “We’ve definitely seen it on him before, right, Carol?”
“I don’t think so, Sheila,” Jake said. “It’s just in support of tonight’s theme. See, Ali’s wearing something similar.” He turned his head in my direction. “Have you ladies met Ali? She put this whole event together.” He was clearly trying to change the subject.
“Yes, we met at the clinic. Sheila. It’s nice to see you again,” Sheila said.
“I’m Carol Lopez. Nice to meet you.”
Carol—who’d made at least one generous pass through the bar—smiled at me but studied Jake like he was a puzzle she almost had solved.
“It’s just . . . I can practically see it,” she murmured. “The whole outfit. I just can’t place the when and why.”
“Tempted by the Timberman,” I snapped, fingers clicking like I’d cracked the case.
Carol’s gaze finally shifted fully to me.
“The romance series set in southern Germany,” I continued smoothly, as if this were common knowledge and not something I just invented thirty seconds ago. “About the American who travels to Bavaria and gets swept off her feet by a broody mountain man?”
“Broody?” Jake mumbled under his breath.
I nodded toward Jake. “Misha will not stop talking about it. You probably saw the cover. The model was H-O-T hot. Very similar lederhosen situation.”
“Huh,” Carol continued. “That’s gotta be it.”
Jake mouthed, Thank you.
We spent the evening working the room to increase auction bids and selling raffle tickets. Side by side. We made a good team.
I was having a blast. The music. The dancing. The cheers and laughter. And most of all Jake. It all made me feel effervescent and carefree. I didn’t care who was watching.
I didn’t feel like the girl in Chicago.
And for once, I didn’t miss her.
Later, as we were cleaning up, Jake reassembled his pull-away pants so he could help without causing too much distraction.
The ladies of Lakeside did not hide their admiration for Jake’s assets on display.
I had to admit, it was hard for me to hide what he was doing to me too.
Thankfully, I had a distraction tallying up the profits from the night.
“Betsy, I am happy to report we unloaded most of the cheese overage. What’s leftover I think you can easily store in the coolers at the market.
And we raised more than thirteen thousand dollars for Employment Resources, Inc.
—mostly thanks to you trying to auction off Calvin’s recipe.
” Betsy had spontaneously started a live auction, promising the recipe for Cal’s Gold Rush recipe to the highest bidder.
Calvin himself outsmarted her by raising the bid to $10,000. “Brilliant idea, by the way.” I winked.
“I may be an old bird, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She smiled kindly.
After a pause, she continued. “If you still want a job at the store, I think we can make some room for you.” She tried to sound reluctant, but I heard a deeper meaning.
“I gotta admit, you did really good, kid. Libby would be proud, eh?”
I let my face sink into the sweetness of her comment. “Thank you. For saying that. Yes! I would love to work at the store. Shall we discuss salary and benefits?”
“You’re delusional, kid. We pay hourly and no benefits.”
“Figured as much,” I said. “Shall we hug on it?”
“Let’s not push it.”
I lifted my hand, palm facing her. “How ’bout a high five?”
She rolled her eyes and started to walk away but turned and lifted her arm and sure enough fived my high.