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Henrik: He is, and I don’t think it’s that expensive but I’ll send you the information and you can decide.
Lou: Thank you for being such a good friend.
ChapterSixteen
Louanne
T-minus two daysto the festival, and nothing is ready—cue panic music. Henrik and I are taking time off from our jobs to begin the setup and also plan where everything will be going for those things that the crew needs to install tomorrow morning.
The SUV tires roll to a stop as Henrik pulls into the orchard lot. We climb out, the biting air reddening our cheeks. The apple tree branches sketch black lacework against the steel winter sky. A delicate layer of snow dusts the slumbering ground. It’s breathtakingly beautiful.
“We have a lot of work to do here.” Henrik’s voice comes out low, laced with a gravelly undertone that sends an involuntary shiver through me.
This is exactly why I wanted to avoid being alone with him. His voice. His presence. All of him makes my entire body tremble with need. But it’s not just that though. Getting to know the man Henrik has become tugs at heartstrings I believed were long severed. Each thoughtful gesture feels like another fragile tie binding us. The process is flawless, and though it slows down it never stops. A piece of my heart melts and fuses with another shattered one and then tucks itself under his soul.
I’m aware that I should stop myself from . . . getting too close to him, falling madly in love, making yet another mistake.
But falling isn’t a mistake. It’s about who we choose to fall with and the timing. And right now is not the best time. Not when my life is still upside down, and I’m trying to get custody of my little ones. However, he’s making it impossible to resist him. The worst is that I don’t even know if this means anything to him.
He says he wants to be my friend, be there for me. Louanne McFolley is the one who seems to not understand the meaning of the word friends and is already scribbling L + H in the Love Festival hearts.
Get it together, Lou.
I point to a grassy area visible between the trees. “We should set up the ticket booths and information table over there.”
Henrik nods, rubbing his jawline absently. I find myself staring at the stubble along his jaw and have to force my gaze away. As we haul tables and signage to the spot I indicated, I feel hyperaware of him—the flex of muscles beneath his shirt, the occasional brush of his arm against mine. I try desperately to still my pounding heart, but . . .
If I jump his bones in the middle of the orchard, can I say it was a mental lapse due to the freezing cold?
Shaking off the reckless thoughts, I focus on the festival. “So what’s next?”
Henrik gestures toward the center of the orchard. “Let’s get the main stage set up there and arrange everything outwards around it.”
“Think people will actually turn out for this?” I ask doubtfully. With the frigid weather and the fact that Genie didn’t organize it, people might not even care about it. “We have two days left, and I’m still not sure we can pull it off.”
“With you in charge, this is going to be a huge success,” he states.
I quickly avert my eyes as warmth rushes into my cheeks, fussing unnecessarily with my hat. From my periphery, I see the corners of Henrik’s mouth twitch upward. Does he know the effect he has on me?
“Let’s just get to work,” I mutter, pulse racing. “We really need to finish up before becoming popsicles out here.”
Henrik’s gaze smolders. “But you’d make an awfully cute one. Strawberry flavor.”
I flush when he licks his lips and I quickly turn away. Willing my voice not to shake, I redirect, “Either way, let’s get to work.”
Henrik heads to the trunk without another word. “We should’ve asked for volunteers to do that.”
We haul the tangled lights to the equipment shed, the cold air helping clear my twisted thoughts. As I pry open one of the stubborn boxes, I sense Henrik’s gaze on me once more.
I chance a glance up and find him watching me. Time seems to suspend between us. The distance evaporates until I can detect notes of pine and spice enveloping me. My limbs are cemented in place, pulse thrumming wildly.
Time seems to slow. The air grows heavy between us. I know I should look away, break this spell, but I can’t seem to move. Henrik takes a step closer, and I catch the hint of his cologne on the breeze, woodsy and warm.
“So we untangle them before we set them up, huh?” I ask, sounding stupid and trying to get away from him. However, it’s impossible. “You’re surprisingly good at this,” I eventually tease, giving him a playful smirk that Henrik returns.
Henrik grins, not looking up from untangling. “You wanna know what’ll really frustrate us?”
“What’s that?”
