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She let out a squeal. “That’s so exciting! I can’t wait to hearyourspeech.”
A strangled chuckle was all he could muster.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Becca tiptoedacross the wood floor from the stairs to the front of the house. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew everyone else was already up and getting ready for the day, but she was set in her ways and if there was a chance that someone was still asleep, she didn’t want to risk waking them.
She wrapped her hand around the doorknob, her computer under one arm. With a quick look over her shoulder, she slipped out into the early morning darkness. The sun would rise soon, and when it did, time would speed up. At least, that was how it felt. The guys would start working the ranch, the girls would make all their appointments.
What else could they do? The wedding was fast approaching. It would be at the end of next week and yet it seemed they still had so much work to do.
At least she did.
This book wasn’t going to write itself. Since arriving in Rocky Ridge, every spare moment had been filled by one thing or another.
Every moment except the early morning hours—or rather the one hour she managed to steal away.
Becca slipped on a pair of boots that she’d set out on the porch the night before and hurried toward the barn. There was a cute little loft area by a big window that had the perfect setup.
She could sit in the bales of straw and type away without any distractions.
No Tina to badger her about working when she was supposed to be here to support Katrina. What a hypocrite.
Becca darted into the barn, the distinct scent of straw, dust, and manure hitting her nose. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, especially when she could combine it with the fresh air wafting in through the window.
The wooden ladder looked as though it had been crafted at the same time as the building itself. Made from old, knotted wood with nicks and scratches that only gave it more character, the ladder had been attached to the loft to prevent anyone from tipping it over. This made for an easy climb and Becca was able to get to the top without anyone seeing her.
She set her computer on her lap and opened the document she’d been working on. Immediately, she became immersed in the story. Lately, the words had come easier. There was no rhyme or reason for her inspiration.
Okay, she was lying to herself. Her hero had started to develop some cowboy-like qualities. His mannerisms and his speech were far too similar to those of the men who worked day in and day out in the corrals below.
She’d definitely need to make some adjustments to her manuscript. The continuity errors were sure to get her editor’s pants in a twist. The solution was probably right in front of her, but the more she thought about it, the harder it seemed to become.
Becca stared hard at her screen. She loved the shift the story had taken. Maybe she needed to?—
Boots clattered against the wooden loft floor and her heart shot out of her chest. She snapped her computer shut on her lap and jerked her head up to find Ethan standing there. He’d stopped, his concerned gaze drinking her in. Those eyes made her feel like she was melting, and his crooked grin caused her legs to go numb.
She blinked a few times and forced a smile, realizing they were staring at each other like two different species that had come across one another in the woods. “What are you doing up here?”
In his hands, he held three cardboard coffee cups. He lifted them slightly, glancing down at them before returning his focus to her. “I thought you might like to have something to drink.”
He took a quick step toward her, nearly stumbling over his own feet. When he got to her side, he glanced down at the cups and back to her.
Confused, Becca stared at the cups as well. “You have three. You must be really thirsty.”
His neck reddened, the flush spreading to his ears. “Well, you’re from Utah.”
“And?”
“And I wasn’t sure if you were part of that religion that doesn’t drink coffee.” He nodded to one of the cups. “There’s hot chocolate if that’s what you prefer.”
Becca bit back a small smile. “You brought me hot chocolate because you thought I might be Mormon?”
He grimaced. “I get it. I should probably already know if you’re Mormon or not. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Ethan glanced at her. “Well?”
“Well, what?” She laughed.
“Do you want hot chocolate or coffee?”
