Page 19 of Lighting Up Christmas

“Yes,” she smiled. “Do you accept?”

Yeswas on the tip of his tongue, but he drew back from the brink.

“Do you need help,” he asked, “or should I power up the two generators?”

“Bock, bock, bock, bock, bock,” Riley clucked under her breath.

“Cute. Generators, it is.”

“This won’t be too long,” she said. “Let me talk to the food truck staff to see what they need and then take a look at your generator before you kick it on and plug in the trucks. Then we’ll see what the band needs.”

He nodded.

“Wait. You’re being weirdly agreeable and worrying me. What happened to my Zhang Shi?”

Her Zhang? He blinked and tried to ignore the flash of warmth.

“Why are you going so easy on me?” she demanded “I thought I’d have to promise you my firstborn to get a peek at your electrical.”

“Definitely not. I’m never having children.”

He didn’t even know the words were going to come out of his mouth. Or that they’d sound so harsh in the quiet of the dark—lit only with her headlamp and his. Beside him, Riley jumped.

Her face was pale in the harsh headlamp, freckles popping out through her foundation and powder. Her wide eyes, a warm, green with dark yellow flecks, stared at him. She’d been teasing. He’d overreacted.

“Zhang.” Riley reached out for him, but he pulled away.

He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone anymore. Zhang pulled off the hard hat and turned off the headlamp.

*

What had justhappened?

One moment they’d been almost joking around, or she had because he’d seemed more approachable. Then his walls slammed up so hard it was like one of those crime shows where the prison cell door slammed shut when the criminal finally got their punishment. And the heavy music drumbeat justified doom.

She’d somehow struck a nerve—again—and released the Kraken.

Dramatic much?

“Stop trying to find answers to other people’s problems, Riley,” she muttered under her breath. “Focus on what you’ve got going on.”

Twenty minutes later, she’d replaced the breaker. The six ugly overhead lights in the cellar came on, casting a cold, white glare. Maybe on Monday, if he hired her, she could convince him to swap out the bulbs for something warmer, if not switch the industrial lights to something more aesthetically hip.

Through the open door she saw a small courtyard, marked off by potted evergreens, lit up with white twinkle lights.

He’d taken her advice.

Riley tried not to read anything into that and failed. After being shunned by the town council about her Christmas Light Garden in River Bend Park, it was validating to not be ignored, even if it was a tiny, tiny win. But a beautiful one.

But as she headed out to check in with Zhang on the generators, she noticed that her vine chandelier wasn’t hanging above the bar. The bar—a spectacular custom or restored piece that definitely needed to be put in a place of honor to show it off. The thick beams above in the barn practically screamed to be used, too.

Screw it. She’d already irked him over something else tonight. He was having a party. Her chandelier light would be aconversation piece if nothing else. And if she shifted the layout of the bar and seating area about ten feet to the left and five forward, the tasting room configuration would visually work better with the heated, outdoor seating area Zhang was currently getting a fire started for.

To think was to act for Riley. She rolled the bar. Moved the vintage rug and low sofa and the ottoman-style cube chairs. Then she retrieved her extension ladder and got to work.

“What are you doing?” Zhang asked, looking up at her on the ladder.

“What I wanted to do on Wednesday.” She screwed in the final screws to hold the track in place. Hopefully, he was polite enough to not be positioning himself to look up her dress. Actually, he seemed too fastidious and distant to pull that creepy stunt. Zhang was definitely not interested in catching a flash of her panties. He probably didn’t even notice she was a woman. That should not prick her pride, but it did. “Hand me the light, please.”

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