Page 14 of Christmas Music
“Like hay,” she repeated, making a face. “So what are we doing in here?”
I gestured up to the loft of the barn. “We’re out of hay down here, which means we have to get down another load. I’m going to go up and throw the bales down. You need to... stay out of they way. I don’t want to accidentally crush you with a bale of hay. Parker would probably find me and kill me within thirty seconds.”
Olivia crossed her arms and glared at me. “Stay out of the way? I don’t think so. I’m going up there to help.”
“Wait, no,” I protested quickly. “Totally unnecessary. I can handle that part by myself. And besides, you’re...” I looked at her very small, very petite frame and cocked an eyebrow.
She huffed again and looked both deeply offended and at least a little bit amused. “I’m what?”
“Um... sort of small,” I admitted.
Another snort from her. “Just shows what you know. Let’s go.”
And before I could stop her, she was heading for the ladder that led up to the hay loft and scampering up like she’d been born to do exactly that. I followed more slowly, watching her swaying above me and trying to prepare in case she suddenly fell and I had to catch her.
Enjoying the view? Yes. But only because I needed to see if she got in trouble up there.
She was waiting for me when I got to the loft, her arms crossed and her toes tapping, and then watched closely as I demonstrated how to use the hooks to grab a bale of hay and throw it. We used smaller bales, which were lighter, but I was still shocked as hell when she grabbed a bale and threw it off the platform of the loft, watching as it hit the ground below us. When she turned back, her face covered in triumph, she found me with my mouth hanging open in surprise.
“You,” I admitted, “are a lot stronger than you look.”
She gave me a tiny shrug. “Looks can be deceiving, cowboy. How many of these do we need?”
We needed quite a few, as it turned out, and not because I was trying to keep from coming back up here tomorrow. I told her that we didn’t need that many, and threw a bale of hay down after hers. It landed closer to the door than hers had, and she turned to me with narrowed, considering eyes.
The next one she threw got all of her body weight behind it, and went a whole lot further than mine had.
And then it was on. We were hurling hay bales like our lives depended on it, shouting in victory every time we got one that went farther than the others had, and poking at each other mercilessly in spur-of-the-moment competition, to see who could throw a freaking hay bale further.
Look, I was easily twice as big as the girl, and much, much stronger. But I was also going out of my way not to use all of my strength. I liked the grin she wore when she thought she was winning way too much to try to wipe it off her face.
She threw one last hay bale and made it almost all the way to the door and whirled toward me, laughing. I’d been leaning over behind her, watching it fly through the air, and when she whirled, she ran right into me.
Again.
This time, I didn’t laugh. I didn’t make a joke and I didn’t step back. I let my arms come up around her and just breathed her in for several long moments. Her green eyes were brighter than I’d ever seen them and she had hay blossoms caught in her hair. A flush ran over her cheeks and her lips, still caught in a smile, grew suddenly still.
The world around us grew thick and charged with the sudden awareness rushing between us.
This girl was...
Everything I’d always thought she was. Every single thing I’d been dreaming of since eighth grade, and everything I’d never dared to reach for myself.
I reached up and tugged one of the hay blossoms out of her hair. “You look like some sort of fairy with these in your hair,” I murmured.
Her lips parted, her eyes going glassy. “I...” she breathed. “Fairy?”
My eyes went to her lips and the world stilled. I was holding Olivia Johns in my arms, after a full day of composing music with her and an afternoon of...
I was holding Olivia Johns in my arms. And I was about to kiss her.
Oh my God.
What the hell was I doing? This girl was so far above me that she’d never given me the time of day before, and I had zero reason to believe that would ever change. I must be insane.
I stepped away so quickly she stumbled, and though I put a hand out to steady her, I was already on my way to the ladder, my brain fuzzy with what I’d almost done and the assurance that it would have gone badly.
“Time to feed,” I mumbled. “This will take ages, though. Best you go on home. I’ll let you know whether I can get into the studio again tomorrow.”
