He leads Duke toward the barn. I hang back, keeping my distance and enjoy the scenery—code for admiring Beau’s backside. The man fills out a pair of jeans like it’s a public service.
When he glances over his shoulder and catches me looking, I nearly choke on my own spit. I should’ve learned my lesson the other night. The man hears everything. Probably sees everything, too.
“You comin’?” Amusement laces his words.
“I’m… observing, taking in the great outdoors.” I lift my head high and straighten my spine.
“Uh-huh.” His grin widens as he and Duke disappear inside the barn.
I step inside the shadowy building. The air smells faintly of cedar, leather, and toasted grain—warm and earthy like sunshine’s baked into the walls. Light filters through the wood planks, striping the hay-scattered floor in gold.
Beau stands at the stall door, stroking Duke’s neck while brushing his hind quarters. The sight does strange things to mychest. The easy tenderness. The quiet strength. The way Duke leans into Beau like their partners instead of man and beast.
“I could get used to this view,” I murmur under my breath before realizing I said it aloud.
Beau turns, one brow cocked. “Think the council will agree?” He grins, and I’m certain he knows I wasn’t talking about the barn.
“More than happy.” I glance at the high rafters, perfect for stringing lights and mistletoe. “It’s perfect…the barn,” I clarify. “But it needs some elbow grease.”
“Perfect comes at a price. That was the deal.” Beau tilts his head, eyes gleaming, enjoying this way too much.
I remember all too well. The teasing way he used my words against me has been replaying in my brain for days. That and his hand over mine, making my heart jolt to a thunderous beat. It rattled me so much I botched two drink orders I could easily make blindfolded.
When I agreed to get him on board for the Holiday Hoedown, I wasn’t signing up to be a cowgirl. Perhaps I romanticized things a bit, thinking ourdealwould include planning layouts, stringing lights, and tinseling trees. Not this. I love my boots, but they’re for dancing, not for slinging hay and shoveling shit.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” I blow out a breath.
I’ve never shied away from hard work, but damn it, rubbing shoulders with a cowboy—with Beau—wasn’t on my holiday bingo card.
His grin deepens. “You trust me, don’t you?”
I arch a brow. wondering if I should be leerier of Beau than of his horse. Because one of them could break my heart, and it sure as hell isn’t the four-legged one.
“Not even a little.”
“Good,” he says, his chuckle a deep rumble. “Makes it more fun that way.”
6
BEAU
Timber groansas the early morning frost loosens its grip. I’m cleaning a stall when a caravan of vehicles pulls into the drive. Coco jumps out of her Jeep, cheeks pink from the cold, hair tucked into a knit beanie, looking cute as a bug and just as much trouble.
And damn that suits me just fine.
“Reinforcements,” she says as people exit vehicles.
I wasn’t expecting her to bring help, but I’m not surprised. Seems like everyone pitches in around here, especially the Garland brothers. They’ve got their fingers on the pulse of this town, keeping it thriving while corporations try to tear it apart for profit.
Haven’t had visitors since movin’ here. But folks are makin’ me rethink this whole solitude thing. Not a single person has snooped around or made me feel like an outsider.
Coco grabs bags from the back of her Jeep. Holly from the bakery in town, follows behind her juggling thermoses and bakery boxes. Oren Garland hauls coils of extension cords over both shoulders. His brother, Tannon, and Aspen bring up therear with tool boxes and a spool of white lights big enough to lasso the moon.
I wipe my hands on my jeans. “Thought I was gettin’ one bartender,” I say. “Looks like I got a whole damn crew.”
“You’re welcome,” Coco says, breezing past me. The scent of citrus and something sweet skates under my nose. “We’ve got lights, cords, cocoa, muffins. Aspen’s a party planner—the brains. And Tannon and Oren are the brawn.”
They each nod, ready to get to work.
