“Enough to know Dad was being stubborn. He wasn’t going to let someone tell him hecouldn’tgo cut down a tree. He’s done that his whole life.”
“So, you let him think you really wanted to do it.”
“It’s not like I don’t,” Noel said with a shrug. “It’s been years since I did that. It will be fun.” He waggled his eyes. “Especially if you do the heavy lifting for me.”
I grinned. “Oh, I see. You just like me for the manual labor I can do for you.”
“That’s not the only reason.” He slapped my ass to make his point. “Come on. Those lights won’t hang themselves.”
He started across the yard, and I followed, a grin breaking loose. Maybe Noel would only be here for a short time, but that just meant I had to make the most of the time we had.
CHAPTER 15
NOEL
Hopper stoodabove me on a ladder, ass looking delicious in light blue jeans, as he used a staple gun to attach a string of lights to the edge of the barn. We’d strung several lines from the barn to the nearest trees and back, creating a canopy of lights that would twinkle right above the fire pit, where customers could enjoy cocoa and s’mores.
Even in daylight, I could tell how much charm it would add. I patted Hopper’s ankle from where I steadied the ladder. “This is going to be beautiful for the wreath-making event Friday night.”
“ThisFriday?” He twisted to look down at me. “I didn’t know you’d still be here.”
Ouch. That hit home. My smile faltered. “Eager to be rid of me?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I just wasn’t sure…”
I nodded. That was fair. We both knew this was a short-term arrangement while I was here. Chicago wouldn’t wait forever.
“I haven’t decided yet when I’ll leave. I want to make sure the season is off to a strong start. Maybe next week, if things are going well.”
“Right. Okay…” He cleared his throat. “So, where were you planning to host the wreath-making?”
“The event space in the back of the store, like always?”
“Uh, about that…” He rubbed his neck, looking sheepish.
“Don’t tell me I can’t use it!” I said. “I already put up some fliers in town and made some social media posts for the farm online.”
His eyebrows shot up. “When the hell did you have time to do that?”
I shrugged. “I was shopping in town, anyway. I asked the Ellises if I could put something up at the Meat Market, and then since the Stag Pub was close, I popped in to talk to Maude, and then?—”
He laughed. “Okay, I get the picture. But social media posts, too?”
“I still have admin privileges. I did it on my phone while the cookies were baking.”
“Of course you did.” He lifted the staple gun to secure the line, then came down the ladder. “I don’t think you even realize what a force of energy you are, do you?”
I didn’t know what that meant. When I saw something that needed done, I did it or found someone who could. I was more concerned about the event I’d already advertised.
“What’s going on with the event space, Hop? Stop beating around the bush.”
He sighed. “Probably best if I just show you.”
Hopper led me through the store to the door that led to the event space we’d used for countless years. Mom held wreath-making events there, but also ornament-decorating and gift-wrapping workshops, photos with Santa, and half a dozen other things over the years.
I opened the door and swore under my breath. The beautiful mahogany table my great-great-grandfather built by hand sat covered in boxes and old decorations that had been tossed haphazardly across its surface.
“What the fuck?”
