Holly thrusts the boxes of cookies at my chest. “Eat. You’ll thank me later.”
“I’m thankin’ you now.” I lift the lid and inhale the scent of pumpkin and spice.
“Pumpkin, oatmeal, and banana nut,” Oren says. “Fresh this morning.”
“And a few apples for Duke,” Coco says, surprising me.
She throws me a quick look. I can’t quite read her expression, but I sure as hell know when a person’s makin’ an effort.
“We’ll start with a sweep and shovel, hay bales for seating, and from there we decorate,” Aspen says, scribbling on a pad of paper. “I’ll sketch out a floor plan.”
Oren and Tannon haul a makeshift bar for Coco to serve drinks. Coco and Holly grab push brooms and begin clearing the dusty, hay strewn floor. I tend to the horse stalls, shoveling and washing them down.
Every now and again I take a gander at Coco when she isn’t looking. She braces her shoulder against a hay bale, muscles flexing under her jacket, grunting as she pushes and pulls it into seating areas. Her cheeks redden and a strained crease furrows her brow. But damn if she doesn’t make hard work look sexy.
By mid-morning, the barn’s less cold, less hollow, a little less dirty. Welcomin’ even.
“Lights.” Aspen yells. “I need bodies. Coco, up the ladder.”
Coco climbs the tall wooden ladder balanced on the rafters with a bundle of lights draped over her shoulder. I move to spot the ladder. “You sure about this?”
“I’m sure I’m not a delicate flower,” she calls down.
She reaches up, stretching to clip the first strand. Her sweater rides up her waist revealing a thin strip of creamy skin. My hands tighten on the ladder rungs.
“Next beam,” Aspen says. “A little higher.”
I glance over my shoulder at Aspen in disbelief. We’re not circus performers. If the ladder shifts even a fraction, Coco could fall.
“How about here?” Coco asks, stretching outward to reach the next beam. I curse under my breath.
“A little to the right.”
Coco climbs one more rung. The ladder wobbles and creaks. Just a whisper of movement, but enough I’m sweatin’ bullets.
“Don’t move,” I snap.
“I’m fine,” she says a little breathless. “Totally—whoa?—”
The slick sole of her boot skates off one rung. The bundle of lights slips from her shoulder, sending the tangled strands dangling from the beam. The ladder shifts, then steadies under my shoulder and Tannon’s quick hands. Coco gasps, her legs shaking as she looks over her shoulder.
I climb two rungs, checking to make sure the ladder will hold both our weights. “Back down slowly. I’ve got you.” I climb a few more rungs, watching her every step until she’s within my reach. My hand slides up her leg to her thigh. “One step at a time.”
When my foot hits the ground, I instinctively place my hand at her hip, guiding her until she’s half in my arms, half on the rung, and her fingers locked in my shirt.
“You all right?” My pulse ticks wildly in my throat.
“Mostly.” Her mouth tilts. “Bruised my ego, but nothing else.”
“Pretty sure you’ll bounce back.” My thumb skims her waist before I can stop myself.
“Beau,” she says my name. A warning or invitation—I can’t tell.
I help her down the last rung. When her boots hit the dirt, we stand too close. Her eyes search mine like she’s deciding something. Before either of us say a word, Holly interrupts with something about cookies and cocoa.
Coco steps back, flushed. “Cookies.”
“Go on,” I say. “I’ll anchor the rest.”
