Naughty Neighbor - Lauren Runow Page 0,62
guides us to safety, and we laugh that we needed to be rescued by a child.
Inside the barn, they’re having a cider tasting. Jake grabs three gallons along with an additional three bushels of apples and two pies.
“You’re gonna eat all that?” I joke as he pushes his cart to the front to pay.
“This is all for my family back at the house. Everything, except for the apples we picked. Those are magical apples, and they’re all ours.”
“Now, if they had some spiked cider here, that would be magical,” I joke, and the cashier points out the door.
“We have a hard-cider barn on the other side of the corn maze. You can do a tasting there.”
Jake’s teeth show with his grin. We place everything in the car and then walk into the hard-cider barn with our hands rubbing together, eager to try the good stuff.
There’s a small bar at the end of the room, and Jake moseys over with his hand out to shake the gentleman’s hand on the other side, reading the name on his shirt. “Fritz, you’re just the man we want to see. My girl and I are on our fifth first date and would like to try some of your amazing cider. The more potent, the better.” He winks, and I roll my eyes at his charm.
“Our fifth first date?”
He leans his elbow on the bar and explains, “The bar was our first date as friends. The Italian restaurant was our first date as TikTok kissers. The museum was our first date when I was trying to impress you, so we’d be more than friends. The third at Navy Pier was our first date when we,” he leans in and whispers, “fucked afterward.”
I hit him in the arm, but he doesn’t seem to care as he points to the orchard.
“And this is our first date as us.”
A slow, broad smile graces my face. “Us.”
“Us.” He kisses me and then turns back to Fritz. “Now, my man, you can’t embarrass me with my girl on our fifth first date, so please, show us your finest variety.”
Fritz seems enamored with Jake’s wit. “So, you want the high alcohol content?”
With a point and a wink, he laughs. “You got it.”
“Well, brother, let me give you the full-service treatment. I take it, neither of you has done a cider tasting before?” he asks, and we both shake our heads. “We have to get you guys the entire flight.”
Fritz puts champagne glasses on the table and fills the first two. “Unlike wine, cider is made through various techniques and comes in a huge range of flavors. We’ll start with the least interrupted ciders. This one is fermented from apples only.”
I lift my glass and hold it up to Jake. “To the new champagne.”
He clinks his glass with mine, and we drink them way too quickly.
“Damn, that’s good,” Jake says and motions toward the bottle. “I’ll be taking a bottle of that.”
As we drink our next glass of cider with spices, Fritz tells us—without oversimplifying the chemistry and steps involved—how ciders are made. Jake is fascinated by every word and asks a ton of questions.
Our next glass is barrel-aged cider. I love it so much that Jake tells Fritz we’re taking a case.
We try pear cider and one with honey. Neither of us is a fan, but we still drink the entire glass. By the time we get to the brandy, Jake and Fritz are trading jabs back and forth like they’re longtime friends. He’s not drunk. No, Jake is just personable like that. I know that anywhere I go with him, he’ll see someone he knows or meet someone new. Everyone enjoys his company, and he seems to genuinely like people. I might not be as outgoing as he is, but boy, do I love watching him in action. His demeanor is so easygoing, and his spunk is spot-on.
And even though he’s engrossed in conversation with someone else, he always has his hand on me.
We finish our flight and walk away with way too many bottles of cider. On the way home, we take the scenic route, listening to music and just enjoying the drive. His hand holds mine, tracing small circles on my palm. The lingering touch is soothing and sweet.
He hums along to the song on the radio, and I fall into the seat and sigh, completely distracted by the sunset ahead when something stirs inside me.
It’s like a mini earthquake, where the floor falls from beneath my feet.