"Well, at least I don't need to waste time looking for you," I mutter to myself, making my way to the feed room and the ladder leading up to the hay loft.
Balancing a cup of coffee and a plated cinnamon roll while climbing a ladder one-handed is no small feat, but I make it without losing the pastry or spilling a drop. Well, almost. As soon as my head is through the opening and I see what the noise is, I jerk to a stop. Hot coffee brings my attention to my jostled state half a second later when it hits my bare arm, and I curse.
"Shit," I hiss, trying to wipe it off my skin without spilling any more.
"Liz?" Jovi stops what he's doing and hurries over to help me all the way up. It takes him no time at all to see why I was swearing, and he quickly takes the cup and plate from me before he uses a rag he's had stuffed in his back pocket to dry my arm.
Once the offending coffee has been cleaned up, he lifts my reddened skin to his lip and blows a cooling breath over it. "This help?"
I nod, too mesmerized by the sight of his mouth so close to my skin to form words.
He blows twice more, before he presses a soft kiss to the burnt spot and gently lowers my arm to my side again.
"It really wasn't that bad," I say, now that my brain is cooperating again. "Not like it was hot enough to blister or anything like that."
"Doesn't mean it didn't hurt." His eyes move back to the abandoned breakfast he set down on an overturned crate in his hurry to tend to me. "You bring that up here for me?"
"Kids asked for cinnamon rolls this morning," I shrug, trying to play it off. "The recipe makes a whole bunch and they're never as good from the microwave as they are fresh out of the oven. And," I stop, swallowing down the rambling words sure to follow in an endless stream without intervention.
When all I get is his knowing smirk in response, I give in.
"Yes," I say firmly. "I brought that up here for you."
His smirk grows into a wide smile. "Thank you." He lifts the whole bun from the plate and takes a large bite.
Frosting sticks to the corner of his mouth as he chews, and I can't help myself. Maybe I don't even try to. I just reach up, swipe it with my thumb and suck it clean.
Jovi freezes, midchew. After a second, he gulps down his bite and clears his throat. "Unless you want me to choke to death, don't do that again."
My eyes go wide. "What?"
"That was hot as fuck," he growls. "I think I blacked out for a second."
I laugh. "You're insane." Then, to hide my flushed cheeks, I turn toward the open hay loft. "What are you doing up here?”
Whatever it is, he's been at it for a while. The space looks nothing like it did yesterday evening when I was up here last. Drywall now lines the slanted walls of the roof where before it was bare wooden paneling. There's framing up for two new walls to close off the bulk of the space from where the ladder opening sits. I take in the large panels of drywall lying in a stack on the floor and several large buckets of paint there's no way he hauled up here using the ladder and small opening in the attic floor.
"And how did you get all this stuff up here? Where did it even come from?" I gape, still trying to take it all in.
He chuckles. "Called up a contractor I know last night. He’s worked with me on several bar projects, so he let me swing by his lot to grab some drywall and paint since Home Depot was long closed.” Jovi nods toward the end of the attic. “Then I used those double doors and the old bale elevator out in the pole barn to get it all uphere. Wasn't sure if it still worked since we haven't needed it since last year, but it kicked right on."
He walks past me, arms spread out, gesturing to the space around him. "I thought we could convert the space into a studio for you," he goes on. "Don't get me wrong, Tammy is full of shit as far as the kids and your work go, but it still got me thinking. You can't keep running your business out of your bedroom. And the loft was sitting here empty, so." He shrugs, curious eyes watching, me, waiting for my reaction.
"Are you serious?"
He frowns. "You don't like it?"
"I fucking love it!" I love it so much, I almost squeal out loud. "The lighting in here alone with those skylights!" I shake my head, marveling at the vision he's already started giving life to.
"I figure we can keep the double doors and add a balcony for you out there," he goes on, walking the space as he explains his plans. "Wouldn't take much to do."
He points at the framing for additional walls. "I didn't pick up a door yet, because I wanted you to choose something you like since it'll be the face or your office, so to speak," he gestures at the door-wide space left vacant, "but once that's in, you'll have total privacy up here."
He comes toward me again, nearing the spot where the ladder pokes out of the floor. "I priced out spiral staircases already, so this ladder won't be a liability when you have models and clients coming and going."
I have no words. Tears sting my eyes as I launch myself at him, wrapping both arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. He doesn't hesitate to envelope me, lifting me up until my feet no longer touch as he brings me to him even closer.
"You're welcome," he whispers through my hair, mouth right by my ear.
