“Yes,” I say. “I’m tired of waking up in a horror movie.”
He tilts his head, expression entirely too innocent. “And hanging from a banister fourteen feet in the air isn’t a horror movie? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that scene somewhere right before?—”
I hit him on the shoulder.
“Ha, ha. Very funny,” I sass back.
The corner of his mouth pulls up. “I thought so. But enough playing around. No more monkey business.” He picks up his hat from the hall table and puts it back on his head. “If you’re done hanging around, let’s get this thing up. Shall we?”
I give him a look.
He’s already reaching for the ladder.
He resets the ladder and braces the base with his boots while I climb. I grip the rungs like a lifeline, but soon find my bearings and loosen my hold enough for me to locate the joist again. I drill the hook, and from below, Bo talks me through checking the weight tolerance.
“Anthony and I did this several years ago in Pearl’s dining room,” Bo called up the ladder. “Remember to test the weight by pulling on it and looking for any give. It should look and feel solid. Think swinging from the chandelier is strong.” He chuckles when I whip around.
“Is that the only analogy you can think of?”
“Nope, but it made you look.”
“What, are you ten?” I shook my head.
His laugh made me smile, and the tension in my shouldersrelaxed. “See, I can be useful.” He teased when I pulled on the brace and lifted myself up a little, testing the weight.
“It’s good,” I announced, then hung up the chandelier and climbed back down the ladder.
“You did good. Looks nice.” Bo grinned, bumping his shoulder against mine.
“It only took forty minutes, and a bit of teasing from you. But all in all, the light was installed, and I learned a new skill. So, in essence, it was a win-win.”
I flip the wall switch, and the lights turn on. It isn’t the haunted, scary movie dim. It is a warm and inviting brightness that an entryway is supposed to have. The chandelier cast soft light across the entire entryway, highlighting the patina on the cast iron and giving me a glimpse of what the old house used to look like.
I stand at the bottom of the stairs and look up at it for a long moment. This is what I loved. Every time I fixed or restored a piece of the old place, it was like I was rebuilding a memory. I sigh in satisfaction.
“There it is,” Bo says quietly. “Worth it?”
I don’t answer right away. I thought back to the night I dragged it home in a truck bed, had it rewired, waited for it, tripped over it, and almost fell trying to hang it.
“Yeah,” I say. “It was worth the fall, the life-threatening squeaky toy, and every penny it cost.” I was grinning from ear to ear.
I could see Bo looking at me, instead of the light from the corner of my eye. Rowdy is between us, tail moving slowly, and for a moment, all was right with the world.
Then, Bo took a few steps and moved next to me. His shoulder against mine until he placed his arm around my shoulders. Instantly, I became aware, all at once, and I triedmy hardest to keep my heart from beating out of my chest and my breathing calm, even if I felt anything but.
“Bo,” I say, and my voice is quiet and a little breathy.
“Falon.”
I turn toward him at the same time he turns toward me.
I can see desire in his eyes, and this time, I lean in ever so slowly. I want to snake my arms around him, but I fight to keep my hands at my sides.
He doesn’t pull back this time. He looks at me, and I hope he’ll lean in too. Rowdy starts to stir beside us.
And then Rowdy huffs and leans against the back of Bo’s legs. Bo shifts his weight forward to catch his balance. It’s just one step, and then he stops. For a breath, he’s still. His eyes search mine like he’s asking a question he knows he shouldn’t.
Then he leans in.
