Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Luke
Thirteen days.
That’s how long it’d been since I’d kissed Magnolia.
I’d like to say I kissed her, went home, and put it out of my mind, but that would be a lie.
In reality, I’d thought about that kiss every day since. Relived it. Picked apart Magnolia’s reaction. Questioned whether I’d imagined her kissing me back, not pushing me away, seeming into it.
Less than sixty seconds nearly two weeks ago shouldn’t still be top of mind. It was illogical for her to be popping up in my dreams ever since. But it was, and she did.
With Christmas tree season underway, the commercial harvest in full swing, plus the barn renovation, I’d never been busier. Never worked longer days, and on a farm, that was saying something.
I’d been starting before six a.m., juggling the farm work for a good eleven or twelve hours, grabbing a quick dinner with Addie and my dad, then throwing myself into remodeling for as long as my body would let me—usually until ten or eleven.
Some evenings Gage or Scotty stayed extra and helped. Sometimes West made it out to assist for a few hours. Some nights I worked alone, a lot slower but still determined.
Most nights I questioned my sanity to take this on now, during tree season. My dad’s objections got in my head and made me doubt my decision. But I was a stubborn dude if nothing else, so I kept going.
After West and I finished hanging another piece of drywall in what would be the kitchen, I checked my watch and pulled off my work gloves.
“Girls oughta be here any minute,” West said.
I was well aware. Every nerve was taut with the anticipation of seeing Magnolia again. Of trying to read what that kiss meant to her, if anything.
West strode past me, toward the far end of the barn, where we’d kept it open the full width, from one outside wall to the other, to create a wider space that could be used for a wedding ceremony or a dance floor or both.
To one side was the area Magnolia had suggested could be a first-look setting or a photo op for guests.
I blew out my breath as I remembered the day she’d showed up without Presley and agreed—reluctantly—to consult. We’d both been tense and resentful then. It hadn’t even been a month, but it was almost as if history had been rewritten since then. At least in my mind.
“There’s a lotta room here,” West said, surveying the ceremony space now that the drywall was up on this end. “I’m all for having our ceremony here.”
“Guess we’ll see what the boss says,” I said, referring to his fiancée.
“Got that right.” West chuckled.
Behind us, one of the double doors opened at the other end.
“We’re here,” Presley called out.
My pulse picked up, but I took my time turning around to face Magnolia, anticipating laying eyes on her pretty face, her blue-gray eyes, her enticing lips.
West went toward Presley, and I followed more slowly. He kissed his fiancée, but I barely noticed because my eyes were on Magnolia.
I swallowed hard as I took in the gorgeous sight of her.
She wore an army-green sweater dress that stopped at her mid-thighs and the brown boots she seemed to favor.
The dress was shapeless, hiding her figure.
My palms itched with the urge to run them under it, up her sides, over the contours of her curves.
Raising my gaze, I met hers and felt a spark of connection as I tried to read her thoughts.
“Hi, West,” she said, then her tone turned businesslike. “Hello, Luke.”
“Hey,” I said, searching for any sign that she was half as happy to see me as I was her.
She kept her attention everywhere but on me as Presley assured West that Allie, their babysitter, had the girls engrossed in a movie and was happy to give the two of them time to look at the barn and go on a late dinner date.
“You guys have gotten a lot done,” Magnolia said as she walked past me and looked through the open doorways of each room.
So we were going to pretend nothing had happened.
I wasn’t okay with that, but we had a business meeting to get through. West and Presley were here to finalize an important decision for their big day.
I could fake it till I got Magnolia alone.
“We’ve got a lot left to tackle,” I countered, ever aware of each day that passed.
The first week of November was gone already.
I wanted the big projects finished by the first of December to ensure we’d have plenty of time to handle decor and create an arch, photo op areas, and whatever else cropped up.
The barn might be rustic and rough around the edges, but the details needed to be refined and crafted with care.
I took the lead and walked toward the wide end of the barn again. Presley joined Magnolia in checking out the individual rooms, the two of them discussing how they would use each space.
At the corner where the room opened up, I stopped and leaned against the wall, summoning my patience. West joined the women, acting as tour guide, allowing me to stand back and watch Magnolia from afar every time they emerged from one of the rooms.
Her wavy hair hung down her back, glistening under the overhead lights, looking more blond than strawberry tonight.
Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and I wondered if that was from the cold outside or something else.
She’d switched into planner mode with Presley, pointing out how tables could be scattered the length of the center part of the barn, where the head table could go, and a dozen other things I hadn’t yet given a thought to.
Now that my years-old anger had melted away, I was fascinated by this talented, competent adult version of the girl I’d fallen for.
No question, she was in her element. She thought in details someone like me never considered, like stands of electric candles here and there along the walls, adding a romantic flair to the dinner segment.
She might be going through a crazy bunch of personal stuff, but her confidence professionally didn’t waver. I found that surprisingly hot.
Though I’d barely had time to pee for two weeks, I’d spent considerable time thinking as I worked—about her, about us, about the past as well as the present.
My attraction to her since we’d cleared the air with her truth and my apology was alive and well, and surprising as hell.
I’d fought admitting it to myself for the first few days, but I’d have to be a dense man not to acknowledge that kissing her had turned my world on end. One kiss. Less than sixty seconds.
If she could do that to me in such a short, serendipitous moment, what would happen if we willingly spent time together, getting to know each other as adults?
I wanted to find out.
She was sending signals that she might not want to find out. I’d definitely be addressing that and doing everything to change her mind, but now was not the time.
I needed to get her alone.