Page 5 of Melting the Grump
"That's why we've ordered eco-friendly ice melt, to be applied before each evening event." She steps into my line of sight, making it impossible not to look at her. "I grew up in Portland, I know about ice."
I frown. "You've really thought of everything, haven't you?"
"I try." Her smile softens, becoming less challenging and more... something else. Something that makes my chest tighten. "I know you think I'm just some city girl trying to change your town, but I genuinely care about doing this right. Whitetail Falls already feels like home to me."
The sincerity in her voice catches me off guard. For a moment, neither of us speaks, and I'm aware of how close we're standing, of the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, of how the twilight softens her features.
"I never said you were 'just some city girl,'" I finally manage.
"You didn't have to." Her gaze is steady on mine. "It was written all over your face in that meeting."
Fair enough. I rub the back of my neck, suddenly uncomfortable with my own assumptions. "Look, I just don't want to see this town turned into a tourist trap where locals can't afford to live anymore. I've seen it happen."
She nods slowly. "I understand that. But bringing in some seasonal business doesn't have to change the character of Whitetail Falls. It could strengthen it!"
There's something in the passionate way she says it that makes me want to believe her. Before I can respond, she turns and walks toward a ladder propped against one of the metal poles.
"Want to see what the lanterns will look like?" she asks, grabbing a battery-powered prototype from a nearby table.
"Should you be climbing that?" The words come out more concerned than I intended.
She grins over her shoulder. "Worried about me, Scott?"
Yes, actually, but not in the way she means. That ladder looks flimsy, and the ground beneath it uneven.
"Just being thorough," I say, echoing Walt's words back at her.
She laughs and starts climbing, the prototype lantern in one hand. I move closer, not liking how the ladder shifts slightly with each step she takes.
"We'll have proper rigging for the actual installation," she explains, reaching the top. "This is just to demonstrate the effect."
She stretches to hook the lantern onto an extended arm at the top of the pole, and the ladder wobbles dangerously. My heart leaps into my throat as I lunge forward, grabbing the sides of the ladder to steady it.
"Careful!" The word comes out more like a growl than I intended.
She freezes, looking down at me with surprise, then finishes hanging the lantern with deliberate slowness before starting her descent. The ladder still feels unsteady under my hands, and I keep my grip firm until her feet touch the ground.
She lands just inches from me, our bodies close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her. Time seems to stretch, neither of us stepping back immediately. Her cheeks are flushed.
"Thank you," she says softly, her breath visible in the cooling air between us.
"You should have waited for help," I manage, my voice gruffer than intended.
"I'm not very good at waiting." Her eyes hold mine, and there's that pull again, that inexplicable magnetism that's been throwing me off balance since the meeting.
I should step back. I should maintain professional distance. Instead, I find myself noticing the freckle just below her left eye, the way her lips part slightly as she inhales.
The sound of approaching voices breaks the moment. Reluctantly, I step away, clearing my throat.
"Just... be more careful," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "The last thing this festival needs is the organizer with a broken ankle."
Her smile returns, knowing and warm. "I'll take that as you caring whether the festival succeeds or not."
"I care about safety," I correct her, but the protest sounds weak even to my own ears.
She reaches past me to switch on the lantern, and soft golden light spills down, creating a perfect circle of warmth on the cobblestones. Despite myself, I have to admit the effect is beautiful, magical, even.
"What do you think?" she asks quietly. In the gentle glow, Abigail's face is illuminated, her eyes reflecting the light like stars.
