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Her heart skipped a beat at the news, and the note of excitement in his voice. “How?”
“Exactly the way you suggested.”
“Your music?”
“Hopefully. Eventually.”
She frowned in confusion. “Eventually sounds longer than two weeks.”
He nodded, his gaze lowering from hers as he shifted his weight. “It will take longer than two weeks for the money to come in, and even then, it won’t cover the full amount of the debt. So…in the meantime, if your offer still stands for a loan—with interest—I’d like to take you up on it.”
Joy could barely believe her ears. She dipped her head to catch his gaze. “Did Logan Walsh just ask me for help?”
“I did.” His expression and voice were solemn. “And I hated it.”
Which was exactly what made him stand head and shoulders above her ex and others in her past. She trusted his request was out of necessity, not him taking advantage.
“However,” he continued, “I can now admit I hate the thought of losing this place more than I dislike asking for help. There’s a lot of memories here. Of my family.” He leaned in to press a quick kiss to her lips. “You.”
“I’m particularly fond of the hayloft,” she teased. “And the ladder. And your bedroom in the house. And the—”
“Stop distracting me.”
The brusque order was softened by the heat in his brown eyes that told her he was reliving those moments just as vividly. But she behaved and kept quiet so he could finish.
“If I can sell more songs, I hope to pay you back every penny over the next couple years. In the meantime, I’ll keep working for your grandpa and make regular payments on the loan. That is non-negotiable.”
She nodded, loving that he was finally able to set his pride aside just enough to let her help. “We can go to the bank tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
He lifted one hand to thread his fingers through her hair, then pulled her in close for another kiss. Longer. Deeper. She would never get tired of the feel of his lips on hers. Heat built as his tongue lovingly caressed hers.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he murmured.
Her smile curved against his mouth as she pressed her body closer. “Not up for the ladder again?”
A low growl vibrated from deep in his chest. “Oh, I’m up for it, just not tonight.” He turned her around and swatted her bottom. “Now up you go.”
“Hey—you’re going to pay for that.”
“I’m counting on it,” he retorted as he clambered up the rungs after her.
“It’s not fair that my threats don’t scare you even a little bit.”
“Stop making them sound fun.”
She shook her head and laughed as he caught her close in his arms, her back to his chest. He reached out with one hand to flick on the lights, but instead of the harsh utility bulbs flaring to life, hundreds of little white lights lit up the loft with a soft glow. She sucked in an awed breath as her gaze drank in the transformation of the old barn.
In the middle of the hay-covered floor lay an arrangement of blankets and pillows. The magical radiance from the twinkle lights illuminated red and white rose petals strewn across the dark bedspread. A breakfast-in-bed tray sat at the edge of the bedding with a covered plate, a bottle of wine, and two glasses.
Joy squeezed his arms where they crossed over her stomach. “Logan, this is beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
“What’s under the plate cover?”
“Pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting.”
