“Are you kidding? She worships you. You could never let her down.” She jabs her finger into her chest. “Me, on the other hand, you could easily disappoint.Especiallyif this wedding turns out to be a disaster like my last one.”
“And the one before that.”
She cuts me a glare. “Did you really have to go and bring that up?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who ordered flowers that the bride is allergic to.”
“I didn’t either! That was the florist!”
I tuck my lips together, saying nothing because she will argue with me no matter what I say. That’s how Odette has always been.
Maybe she ordered the right flowers and was sent the wrong ones. Or perhaps she screwed up and doesn’t want to admit it. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that the bride—who happened to be the mayor’s daughter—had a horrible reaction. One that puffed up her face so much that she couldn’t open her eyes.
It’s probably why Odette’s business is in such a rough spot. I overheard Izzy talking about how she had three different couples pull out of their contracts after the mayor’s daughter’s wedding. I’m sure it doesn’t help that Odette’snextevent also went awry or that two couples she planned weddings for got divorced within six months.
I’d be willing to bet she’d blame it all on the curse her family suffers from, and a part of me gets it. I’m a hockey player, so I understand superstitions better than most. Maybe it is a curse. Or perhaps she’s just letting it get inside her head. Either way, she’s in trouble.
“Whatever you say,” I tell her. “I just know this wedding is going to be a lot of work.” I tap the beam next to me, and the old wood creaks beneath the gentle touch like it’s about to give way at any moment. Guess I’d better add that to my list of shit to fix. “Starting with this barn.”
“I can help.”
I look over, brows raised. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Noah Stevens. I said I can help. Hand me a hammer or something. Some nails. A ratchet. Twenty bucks. Whatever. We’ll get this place fixed up in no time.”
I can’t help it—I laugh.
And Odette doesn’t like my reaction one bit, if the pinched expression she has on her face says anything.
“What?” she barks at me. “Quit laughing.”
“I’m sorry.” I cough, beating on my chest. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. “It’s just ... I’m trying to picture you in overalls wielding a hammer.”
She notches her chin higher. “I’m extremely handy, thank you very much.”
“Yes, you look it with your Jimmy Choos and fresh manicure over there.”
“These are Manolo Blahniks, for your information.” She looks down at her long nails coated in a deep pink. “But you’re right. That is going to mess up my nails.” She shrugs. “Whatever. I can handle it.”
I shake my head. “No, darlin’, you can’t.”
“And why not? Because I’m a girl?”
I shoot her a look. “Please. The strongest woman in the world raised me. You know I don’t think women are inferior to men in the least. If anything, I believe the exact opposite. Women should be running this world, not men. They’re far smarter and stronger than we are, that’s for damn sure.”
She chews on that a minute, knowing I mean every damn word of it. Odette’s seen firsthand the work my mother put into raising me and Izzy, my parents’ “oops” baby, born twelve years after they thought they were done having kids. It wasn’t easy having two children at different places in their lives, especially with one who played, lived, and breathed hockey and spent all his time at the rink. She knows the work my mother put in to make sure she was there for Izzy just as much as she was there for my hockey career while my dad worked long hours between his clinic in town and the hospital one town over.
There’s no way I’d ever think I could be better than her just because I’m a man.
“Then what is it?” she asks.
“You want to know why I think you can’t handle hard labor?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
I rake my gaze over her, taking in her high heels that make her already long legs look even longer, her skintight skirt, and her pink blouse that matches the color of her lips whenever she’s not wearing lipstick.
“I think you can’t handle it because, for one, you don’t do hard labor.Ever.And two, you don’t do things that’ll make you wet or dirty, both things you’ll certainly get if you help with this project. Hell, I remember when you had a swim birthday party and didn’t even get in the pool.”
