Chapter 7

chapter

seven

Cooper

Even as I stand here at 6 a.m., digging post holes in Harmony's yard, the moment I first saw her six weeks ago plays like it happened yesterday, accompanied by the same excitement and anticipation. The same yearning. The same pull.

Good god, it's been too long since I've worked this hard. Gym workouts are one thing, but stubborn clay is another thing. Harmony wants a fenced-in backyard, and she's going to get one.

And if she happens to appreciate that I'm shirtless, all the better.

Of course, she never says she appreciates my shirtlessness. Instead she does that cute pinched thing with her mouth that communicates disapproval while her eyes flash.

I only smile like a clueless dummy in response. That's all I'm left with after the charming remarks subside.

When I first met her, I wasn't all that charming. That's because all I wanted was to lift her over my shoulder, carry her out of that business expo, and keep her to myself.

That moments plays on a loop as I dig post holes in her yard.

Did she ask me to do this? No.

But I happen to know what she wants. She mentioned it that first night when we discussed her love of DIY projects.

"I've always wanted a dog, but our house is so small and I'd need a fence," Harmony had said when we walked together to the lake after dinner that first night.

I've mentally noted everything from that evening.

So now, whether she wants to date me or not, I don't care. If Harmony wants a fence, she gets a fence.

Well, I do care that she doesn't want to date me. I'm head over heels for her, let's be real.

But I'll wait as long as it takes. And if she never comes around?

I simply cannot think about that possibility, because I don't know what I'll do if I don't see her face every morning and every night.

I place one pole in the ground and secure it with the ready-mix concrete.

I get that feeling that someone is watching me. Glancing up, I see the silhouette of her face in the kitchen window. I wave my gloved hand.

I can't tell if she's smiling or not.

Doesn't matter. If she wants me to stop, she'll say so.

If she doesn't tell me to stop, I'll keep doing whatever it takes to make her smile.