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My stomach swoops and I shriek.
The ladder starts to fall sideways, but I pull back and right myself. I glare down at Barley, who’s lifting his nose in the air, totally interested in the flowers and unconcerned about my safety. “No eating the decorations, Mr. Hopper.”
I lean to the side again, reaching for that last hook and letting the ladder tip onto three legs, because Mac is bound to show up at any moment and I want this to be perfect. I don’t have time to get down and move the ladder.
Again, there’s a sharp tug on the flower chain. I pull back, but Barley pulls harder at the worst possible moment.
I hit the ground hard, the ladder luckily toppling down next to me and not on top of me.
I can’t catch my breath as I stare up at the pink and white flowers above. They look pretty, at least.
A sip of air makes its way into my lungs and I begin to believe I might actually survive this.
Barley is happily munching right next to my head. He gives another tug on the garland, and the entire display falls on top of me. “Barley, no,” I wheeze out.
“What is going on out here?” Mac’s tone is way too cheery for this moment when all my best-laid plans have just gone up in smoke.
He looks down at me, the sun a halo behind his head. Just when I think the man can’t possibly get anymore good-looking, he goes and looks like a freaking angel.
“Can’t. Breathe.” I’m actually getting more air into my lungs, but everything hurts and I want to be rescued.
Mac pulls the flowers off me and tosses them aside before crouching next to me, his brow creased in worry, his beautiful, expressive eyes reflecting my pain. “Please tell me you didn’t fall off the ladder.”
I blink up at him, my eyes burning. “I fell off the ladder. I can’t breathe.”
“You had the wind knocked out of you. What hurts? Is anything broken?”
With his help, I sit up and assess the damage. “I didn’t hit my head, I don’t think. Nothing feels broken, but how can I tell?”
“You’d know.” His confidence makes it clear he’s speaking from experience. “Let’s get you inside so I can check you out.”
I wiggle my fingers and toes. “I think I’m okay, and we need to have this wedding before Barley and Begonia eat all the decorations and food.”
“I hate to tell you this.” He rubs my shoulder gently. It feels so good, I lean into his touch. “But it’s too late.”
He shifts to the side, revealing Begonia on the food table, chowing down.
I leap up, ignoring the stiffness and pain, and hobble over to her. “She shouldn’t eat the chocolate.”
Mac hurries past me, lifts Begonia off the table, and puts her gently on the ground. She maas at him in dismay. “Where is it?”
I finally make it to the table and grab the paper bag of truffles. “The bag is sealed, but she can probably get into it if she really wants to.”
Mac takes the bag and drops it on the other side of the fence. He scans the table. “Everything else here is okay for them to eat?”
“It should be. Based on the research I did. Obviously, the veggie tray is specifically for them, but they should be able to eat everything else without getting sick.”
“Good.” Mac grips my hips and guides me to sit on the lowest level of the climbing stack. “You need to rest until we’re sure you aren’t more seriously hurt.”
“I’m just a little stiff.” I speak with more confidence than I feel. I’ve never fallen that far or that hard, and I’m more than a little worried I might have done some real damage.
“I hope you’re right, but it won’t hurt to take it easy and it could hurt for you to do too much too soon.” He rubs my back. “I can take you to the hospital. You should probably get checked out.”
I twist, ignoring the twinges of pain, and raise and lower my arms. “I’m fully functional. I don’t need a hospital. How about we get these two hitched? I promise, I’ll rest after.”
His mouth turns down, his palm still rubbing soft circles over my back. He’s actually bumping a sore spot with his thumb, but I like the feel of his hand on me too much to tell him.
“I’ll agree to it, but only if you sit right here to officiate.”
