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They got them positioned on the table, and then she looked down the aisle. “There should be everything to put the canopy together in the back of the truck.”
“A canopy?”
“Yes. She’s going to walk under a canopy to go down the aisle. We made a frame for it and got some tulle to wrap around it. I know how it’s supposed to go together. She didn’t say that we needed to get it set up, but I think we could.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“Well. My sister is being high-maintenance, and I guess she’s entitled to it. She was the bridesmaid at my wedding, and it was pretty damned high-maintenance.”
“So this is payback?”
“I believe it is payback in part, yes.”
They went out to the truck, and she found the metal poles in the bed, and then she took the carefully wrapped tulle out as well, and with Kit’s help they took it into the barn. She directed him, telling him where to lay the poles out in the aisle, because she had seen Juniper’s sketches of it all.
She had done some beading on the tulle, just to add some sparkle. To add a little bit of them.
She had done the same for Juniper’s veil.
“Is there something to anchor these?”
“Oh, right. I forgot. There’s a couple of cement forms in the bed of the truck.”
“I will get them.”
He left, and returned a few moments later, with big cement bricks in his hands. The poles were meant to sit down inside them, and they held them in place. They were really heavy, and he made lifting them look like it was a breeze.
And she couldn’t help but watch. The play of his muscles. His forearms, his biceps. She watched as he made every trip, and she just stood and kind of stared. Openly.
He was... He was glorious. Kit Carson was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and she felt it was a traitorous thought, one that made her feel as much guilt as it did excitement. And it brought her back to her dream. Because in her dream, she had crossed the kitchen last night instead of retiring to her room. In her dream, she had put her hand on his face and kissed his mouth, and then he had put his hands all over her body. He had taken her against the wall, his arousal hard and thick and devastating, and she had screamed her pleasure in a way that she had always thought was fake, and found nowhere this side of ridiculously overblown in movies and porn.
And hey, it probably wasn’t to be found anywhere outside of adult entertainment. Because she had dreamed it. It hadn’t really happened.
She had certainly never experienced anything like that.
She shifted uncomfortably.
This was the problem. She didn’t have experience in the sense that she had only been with one person. So her experience wasn’t broad. But she’d had all kinds of sex. Years of it. Steady. Because she had been in a consistent relationship for so many years.
And when you were in a long-term relationship, you tried things. All the things.
It was such a scary line to walk. Because she had no idea what it would be like with someone else, but she also knew what was possible. And she really wanted to test the limits of what was possible with Kit. Or rather, her libido did. Or better, her more critically thinking self didn’t want to do that. But sometimes when she looked at him, it felt like her critical self did not exist. It was just her replaced by a horny monster that she didn’t recognize.
And again, she had to question what her motivation had been in doing this with him.
And why she was watching his muscles.
Did she want to resist? Or did she want to throw herself headfirst into something different?
Into something new.
“Can I help you with something?”
She blinked. And she realized she was standing there gaping.
“No. No. Sorry. I’m just... My sister is getting married. I’m just a little bit overcome. Emotions. I’m very sentimental.”
She actually kind of was. She knew that most people wouldn’t characterize her that way, but a woman who still had all of her late husband’s belongings could hardly be considered anything but sentimental, she supposed. A woman who hand-beaded a bunch of details that no one would ever see, but she would know were there, could not be characterized as anything but sentimental.
