Page 9 of Mountain Rancher

Abigail’s face falls. “Seriously?”

I nod. “They’d come crashing down the minute you turned on the music.”

Abigail sighs, disappointment evident in her eyes. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Something in her expression tugs at me. Before I can stop myself, I’m mentally reconfiguring the entire electrical system of the barn.

“Tell you what, the rafters won’t work, but I could rig something up with steel cables. We’d need to strengthen the electrical system, too. Those chandeliers plus a DJ’s equipment would blow every fuse in the place.”

A spark of hope lights up Abigail’s eyes. “Really? You could make it work?”

I feel a smirk forming on my lips. “I’ve got an engineering degree and seven years of rigging up solutions on this ranch. A few chandeliers aren’t going to beat me.”

“That would be fantastic!” Veronica says. “When could you start? We’re on a pretty tight timeline.”

“I can get started right now.” I check my watch. “I’ve got a couple hours before I need to check on the new calves.”

Turning to Abigail, I add casually, “You could come help me as my assistant. We’d make a good team, knock it right out.”

Abigail’s eyes widen slightly, but before she can respond, Veronica claps her hands together.

“That’s perfect!” She’s completely oblivious to the tension crackling between Abigail and me. “Two heads are better than one, and this way you can see exactly what we’re looking for, Abigail.”

Abigail shifts her weight, wincing slightly when she puts pressure on her bad ankle.

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be with this.” She gestures down at her foot.

“You don’t need to climb anything,” I say. “Just hand me tools, hold the light. Simple stuff.”

Veronica gathers her papers into a neat stack.

“This works out great since I actually need to run to the craft store. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” She slips her tablet into her bag. “Just text me if you need anything else for the chandeliers!”

Then she’s out the door in a whirlwind of enthusiasm that leaves behind a sudden silence.

I turn to Abigail and grin as I nod toward the barn. “Shall we?

Chapter Three

ABIGAIL

My ankle throbswith a dull ache as I shift my weight against the rough-hewn beam.

“You okay down there?” Hunter calls out but doesn’t look down from his perch on the ladder. His forearms flex as he secures another wire for the chandelier.

“I’m fine,” I lie, adjusting my position against the beam.

I’ve been perched in this corner for over an hour now, watching him transform my family’s working barn into something out of a wedding magazine.

And with each stretch of his arms, each flex of muscle beneath his fitted t-shirt, something hot and dangerous unfurls inside me.

“I’m almost done up here.” Hunter climbs down the ladder with practiced ease. “Just a few more ties and the lights should be all set.”

Then he turns to me and winks, and something flips in my stomach.

I need to stop this.

Whatever “this” is.

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