A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree Read Free Page B

it to him. “Here ya go.” She sighed. “Josh’s copy of my design with all the specs. Study it. See you Friday.”
    She turned and stepped back up into the window, crumpling up the ruined backdrop and stuffing it into a garbage bag.
    “You’re the designer?” Sam asked. “Not the lady in ruffles?” He realized his mistake when Nicole shot him an annoyed look and added quickly, “Just making sure.”
    “That’s Darci Powers. She owns the boutique. You won’t have to deal with her. Besides, she’s on her way to Aspen for a week.”
    One of the guys muttered in gratitude.
    “Oh,” Sam replied. “Nice place to be this time of year.”
    “Is it? I wouldn’t know. Anyway, to answer your question, I am most definitely the designer—and the crew boss,” Nicole said briskly. “You’re working for me and I pay cash. A hundred dollars a day.”
    “Okay. Great.” He hoped he didn’t sound ridiculously eager. Not about the money—about working with her, for her. Now that was something to get excited about.
    Nicole picked up the fallen dowel and ran a hand over it. “Shoot. This is cracked.” She snapped it over her thigh and tossed the halves into a corner. “Westside Lumber won’t deliver an order under fifty bucks. Keith, take the A train down to Canal Street and get two more dowels, same length. And pick up more backdrop paper at Pearl Paint while you’re there.”
    Sam absorbed the information. It was going to be interesting to work a job where materials arrived via subway.
    Hank and Russ joined her in the window and tested the frame thing while Nicole maneuvered underneath it to look for other cracks. Bob, the biggest man on the crew, went up next, while Sam watched, trying to figure out how they all stayed out of each other’s way.
    Nicole crawled out from under the frame on hands and knees. “Have you ever worked in a store window?” she asked him.
    “Um, no.”
    “It helps to be flexible.” She smiled at him for the first time as she sat back on her haunches.
    What a smile. One dimple. Almost perfect teeth. He was dazzled.
    “I’ll do my best,” Sam replied. “Greg hired me as a rigger, but I’ve done just about every kind of carpentry there is. I grew up on a ranch. I don’t suppose you have any fences that need mending.”
    She shot him a baffled look that eased into a smile. “No.”
    He wanted to say something funny, keep her smiling, but she was looking back at one of the guys, who asked her a question. She twisted her lithe body around to show them how she wanted the framework positioned.
    Looking at her, the last thing he wanted to do was leave, but Sam realized that he had to get back.
    “Hey, thanks again for the job,” he said when she returned her attention to him. He held up the rolled graph paper. “And this. I’ll look at it tonight, but I have to get back to the park. See you soon.”
    “Not so fast.” Nicole took her cell phone out of her shorts pocket. “Give me your number.”
    He rattled it off and watched her enter it. Tap tap tap. She had pretty hands.
    “Got it,” she said, and smiled again.
     
     
    What with one thing and another, Sam and the rest of the crew stayed at the little park until long after sunset. Greg hung caged lightbulbs from the scaffolding so they could get a jump on installing the twinklers. The guys ran power cords up the trunks of the trees, saving the detail work for tomorrow.
    It would take hours to get lights on every branch and twig. But the result would be worth it. Sam enjoyed watching rosy-cheeked kids peer up into the trees and ask their moms and dads and babysitters what was going on. In his lofty perch he was as good as invisible.
    Greg called a halt and got everyone down on the ground. Sam pulled off work gloves that were sticky with resin. He would have to buy a new pair tomorrow. One after another, all five of the guys slung their gear into a big yellow locker, too weary to tell jokes. Greg shot the bolt and padlocked the