Vince was working like a maniac on the gazebo.

It had been the one thing at our extreme fixer-upper that I insisted be restored instead of replaced.

It was about 90 degrees in the shade, and he was out there sweating, swearing and looking adorable trying to get the structure ready for our upcoming late-summer cookout.

I heard a rumble of thunder as I dropped some fresh cut lemon in the pitcher of lemonade I’d made to surprise him.

Just as distant lightning cracked in the sky, I heard, “Goddamn it!”

I managed not to laugh as I ran outside and grabbed him by the back of his shorts. He turned to me, hammer in one hand and the other pressed to his sweating forehead.

“Stop for the day,” I said.

“I’m almost done... Read More