More Than Pancakes (The Maple Leaf Series Book 1)

by Christine DePetrillo

  “True enough,” Marsha said. “We can work hard, relax hard here.”

  “I’ll second that.” Harry held up his beer and tapped it to Marsha’s.

  Lily had never met a more satisfied couple, and she’d met a lot of people in her business dealings. The guests that visited Utopia Resorts didn’t appear this content. In fact, she’d witnessed outrageous fights between couples at Gems Utopia. Who cheated on who. Who gambled his money away. Who drank until she couldn’t climb the stairs. Craziness. Lily wanted to bottle whatever Harry and Marsha had and sell it in Utopia gift shops.

  “Where are you from, Lily?” Marsha asked.

  “California.”

  Harry whistled. “So did you understand any of the words we just said?” He elbowed Lily and winked.

  “Barely. Life in California is definitely not what you’ve described here.”

  “Suppose some folks like it though,” Marsha said, a crinkle in her brow that said she found that hard to imagine. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes… I love it.” Lily’s usual answer did not spill out automatically. God, she had to get out of Vermont. “I love California,” she said again with more certainty. “It suits me.”

  “Person’s got to be happy with where they live,” Harry said.

  “I am. Very happy.”

  “Good.” Marsha studied Lily for a silent moment. “You know, Harry, she looks like Gail, doesn’t she?”

  “Spitting image,” Harry agreed.

  “Gail Hinsdale, the famous talk show host?” Lily smirked.

  “Yeah,” Marsha said. “A younger version, of course, but you have the same coloring, the eyes, the hair. You even interviewed us like she would one of her guests.”

  “I suppose I did.” Lily hadn’t meant for the encounter to feel like an interview, but perhaps she’d channeled her grandmother’s spirit. Nice to know Grandma Gail would always be a part of her. “Gail was my grandmother.”

  “Was?” Harry put his beer down after taking a swig.

  “She passed away.” Lily folded and unfolded a napkin from the table.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Marsha took Lily’s hand, stopping her folding. “We’re so sorry.”

  “So sorry,” Harry echoed. “We were in here with Gail about a month ago, right, Marsha?”

  Marsha nodded. “About that time, yes. Remember she got the band to play Sinatra songs all night?”

  Harry barked out a laugh. “For a couple of young kids, they sounded pretty good.” He tossed his thumb toward the band on the stage now. “Of course Gail wouldn’t let them not sound good.”

  “Told the boys it was a sin to butcher Sinatra songs.” Marsha smiled at the memory, and Lily could picture her grandmother directing the band until they sang exactly the way she wanted them to. Like Lily, Grandma Gail was a perfectionist.

  “You staying at that beautiful house of hers?” Harry asked.

  “Yes. She left it to me.”

  “Oh, you’ll enjoy it, Lily. It’ll be a nice break from the city.” Marsha let go of Lily’s hand.

  “You going to move here?” Harry asked.

  “I’m not moving. I can’t.” Lily rolled up the sleeves of her sweater and glanced toward Hope and Sage. Two men were sitting with them now. One was the drummer, and he was saying something that had Hope laughing. Sage appeared to be weaving a spell on the guy across from her too.

  Lily was on her own.

  “Can’t?” Harry scoffed. “Who says you can’t?”

  “Me.” Lily closed her phone, hoping that would end the otherwise pleasant conversation she’d had with Harry and Marsha.

  “Don’t ignore the possibilities, Lily.” Marsha swept her arm out in a wide arc. “Plenty of nice boys here to settle down with.”

  “In fact,” Harry started, “there’s a fellow over there that’s been eyeing you for the last five minutes.” He pointed to the bar.

  Lily followed Harry’s finger. Her gaze rested on a pair of blue eyes. Nervous eyes. Like those of a deer.

  “Thanks for your time, Harry, Marsha. Lovely meeting you both.”

  She shook both their hands and collected her phone. That blue gaze tracked her as she slithered through the crowd toward the bar. A finger tapped on the neck of a beer bottle. He still had on the blue thermal shirt, but had replaced the flannel shirt with a brown corduroy jacket. The color of it made Lily think deer again. She slowed her step, worried that a fast approach would make her appear too eager to be near him. She didn’t want to scare the sexy buck away.

  When she was two feet in front of him, Lily said, “You came.”

  “I came.” Rick raised the beer bottle to his lips and tipped his head back. Lily liked how a short crop of golden blond hair covered the underside of his chin. She remembered the feel of that beard against her lips when they’d kissed earlier. What would it take to feel that again?

  Why do you want to feel that again? Be logical, Hinsdale.

  Rick turned to set the empty bottle on the bar behind him and swiveled back to face Lily. His casted leg rested on the rung of the stool, while the other made one long line to the floor. He was trying for casual, but Lily could tell he wasn’t comfortable in the bar.

  But he’d come anyway.

  “The next drink is on me.” Lily pushed the sleeves of her sweater up farther. Not as a signal to Hope or Sage, but because someone had raised the heat in the bar. Maybe the scarf had to go.

  “You don’t have to buy me a drink.” He shed his coat. A good sign he planned to stay a little while.

  Why do I want him to stay? I shouldn’t. I absolutely shouldn’t.

  Lily moved to lean against the bar. She needed something to support her as she got a prime view of how well that thermal shirt showcased Rick’s body. He had definitely been hiding things under the flannel.

  “You kept me from cracking my skull on your coffee table. That earns you at least a drink.” Lily forced herself to focus on Rick’s face, but the things she found there were as pleasing as the things she found elsewhere. Those pale blue eyes of his hypnotized her, pinned her in place next to him.

  “What was I supposed to do? Let you damage my table? I built that chest myself. Anybody would have tried to catch you.”

  “But anybody didn’t. You did.” Lily sat on the stool next to him. “So I’m buying your next drink.”

  Rick motioned to Jake and ordered another beer. Lily dug in her jeans pocket where she had stashed a few bucks and paid for his drink.

  There. Back on equal ground. She no longer owed him anything.

  Rick tipped the bottle toward Lily in salute and took a sip. “What are you drinking?”

  “Soda. It’s at the table with Hope and Sage.”

  “Along with the drummer I see.” His lips formed a straight line as his cousin flirted with the band member.

  “Hope’s a big girl,” Lily said.

  “Mmm-hmm.” His gaze didn’t waver from Hope’s suitor. “Who’s the guy with Sage?”

  “I don’t know,” Lily said. “I was in the corner speaking with Harry and Marsha Frideway.”

  “Bet they gave you a good glimpse into how people feel about Vermont. They’re practically the founding members.” He took another sip of his beer. How many beers would it take to get Rick to truly relax? He was trying, but why should he have to try? They were just two people chatting in a bar about nothing too important.

  “Yeah, they stopped shy of showing me their ‘I heart Vermont’ shirts.”

  Rick laughed and the sound washed over Lily. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the deep, raspy noise flood her senses.

  “I went to high school with two of their boys, Tim and Steve. Nice guys.”

  “Harry and Marsha would say it was because of the fine Vermont upbringing they received.” Lily found the old couple at their table. They’d gone back to holding hands. Did the grins on their faces ever fade?

  “Harry and Marsha would be right.” Rick put down the beer and crossed his arms as if
he were gearing up to fight.

  “I’m not saying they’re wrong, Rick,” Lily said. “Look, we’re not on opposite sides, okay? I don’t want to put a resort here anymore. Selfish thinking gave that notion power. Actually, nervous thinking. The vice president of Utopia backed me into a corner to give her a nature-based resort idea. I had just had the conversation with my father about my grandmother’s property. The two events combined and… exploded. Do you know how many people would kill for my job? I’ve got to supply ideas and make them work, or I’ll be replaced. That’s how it works.”

  Lily shifted her phone from hand to hand. “I’ve rethought the situation, and you’ve seen the new designs I came up with when I had time to think, when the big boss wasn’t thumb-tacking me to the wall. I’ll put what I gather here tonight with the photos Hope and Sage took and use it all to convince Utopia’s upper management to go with the new design in some other location. Alaska, maybe.”

  Isn’t there pristine wilderness there that people won’t want developed either? That thought concerned Lily. She’d always thought everyone was for progress and innovation, but maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe there were more tree-huggers than she’d realized. Maybe there were more people like Rick.

  Lily reached out and grasped Rick’s forearm. He didn’t shake her hand away, but he didn’t attempt to hold it as Harry had done to Marsha.

  “I’m probably a moron for believing you,” Rick said, “but I do believe you.”

  “You’re not a moron.” Lily patted his forearm then dropped her hand. Her fingers itched to be intertwined with his, and she didn’t exactly know what to do about that.

  Deciding she needed more time to think—and more time with Rick—Lily was about to ask him to join his cousins’ table when a band member sidled up next to them.

  “No, no, no. Tell me someone’s slipped some powerful drugs into my beer.” The man held his bottle up to the lights and pretended to inspect the liquid inside. “I am not actually standing in front of the Rick Stannard, am I?”

  “Knock it off, Josh.” Rick tapped his bottle to Josh’s in greeting.

  “Aw, c’mon. I’m allowed to give you some hell. Where have you been, man?” Josh took a solid stance in front of Rick and Lily, his legs about shoulder-width apart and his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got his answer.

  “Same place I’ve always been. Busy this time of year. You know that.” Rick brought his other leg up on the rung of the bar stool and repositioned himself.

  His brow creased then relaxed. How much trouble was his ankle giving him? He hadn’t complained about it, but he didn’t strike Lily as a guy who did much belly-aching about things. He either dealt with a situation or avoided it completely. Which was his style? Lily had a feeling it depended on the situation. Try to take his land, Rick was going to fight. Try to get him to open up, he was going to hide.

  And why the hell do I want to massage him until that crease of pain in his brow goes away? Lily focused on Josh, but couldn’t erase the image of a naked Rick sprawled out like a buffet for her hands.

  “Dude, you have to play with us.” Josh clamped a hand on Rick’s shoulder and shook him.

  “Not tonight.” Rick shook his head.

  “C’mon, man.” Josh shot a look to Lily. “Wait a minute. Are you on a date?”

  “No,” Lily and Rick said at the same time.

  “Josh, this is Lily,” Rick said. “She’s here on business.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Lily.” Josh shifted his beer to his left hand and shook Lily’s hand.

  “Likewise, Josh. You guys sound great.” She gestured to the stage where the band’s instruments stood waiting.

  “Thanks. We’d sound better if this guy would stop being so damn shy and join us.” Josh waved a hand toward Rick.

  “What do you play?” Lily asked, a new curl of intrigue spiraling inside her.

  A frown appeared on Rick’s lips. Clearly he didn’t want to elaborate on this secret Josh had tossed out into the open.

  Too bad. Lily was determined to find out what she could.

  “Guitar.”

  Lily waited for Rick to say more. When he didn’t, Josh said, “Rick doesn’t play the guitar. He makes love to it.”

  “All right,” Rick said. “That’s enough, Josh. Shouldn’t you get back to the stage? Your fans are waiting.” His cheeks were a lovely shade of pink making him super adorable, and Lily wanted to run to her purse to get her camera.

  Ignoring Rick, Josh turned toward Lily as if he were excluding Rick from the conversation. “This kid doesn’t read music, but I’ve never heard anyone do what he does with those strings. He’s amazing. It’s like his fingers were made to pluck and press and go crazy on those strings.”

  Lily absently fanned herself with a napkin from the bar. Josh’s description had images chasing each other around her head in which Rick’s fingers were plucking and pressing her, going crazy on her. She needed something cold to drink. Right now.

  She signaled to Jake and ordered a hard cider. Josh threw money on the bar between Lily and Rick.

  “Allow me,” he said. “I just noticed you’re the prettiest gal in here tonight. I make it a point to buy a drink for the prettiest gal.”

  “Thank you.” Lily didn’t have time to protest that she’d buy her own drinks. She needed cooling off immediately before she threw herself at Rick, full bar watching or not.

  The drink slowly worked its magic as she swallowed the first gulps. Its frostiness slid down her throat, cooling her inch by inch, sip by sip. Blaze extinguished. Crisis averted.

  She glanced back at Rick, imagined him playing the guitar on that tiny stage, and a five-alarm fire flared back to life.

  Get yourself under control. She normally didn’t have to remind herself of such things. Lily couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so aroused. God, she was a mixed up bottle of hormones someone had shaken and threatened to uncork.

  “One song, Rick. Please,” Josh begged. “The crowd would love it, and so would Miss Lily here.” He tipped an imaginary hat.

  “I really would,” Lily said. She grinned when Rick looked at her.

  “Should have let you nosedive into my coffee table,” Rick mumbled, but a half smile played on his lips. He finished his beer and stood. Pointing a finger at Lily, close enough to almost touch her nose, he said, “You owe me another drink for this.”

  Rick limped after Josh through the crowd. He waited at the edge of the stage while Josh got him a stool. The two men appeared to converse over Rick’s ankle, then Josh shot one glance back at Lily. Rick shook his head at whatever Josh asked him, and Lily wished she had mutant hearing.

  Josh stepped up to the microphone while Rick shook hands with the other band members already on stage. They all looked more than pleased he had joined them.

  “If our drummer would stop flirting with Hope Stannard at table six, we could get the music rolling again for you folks,” Josh said.

  The bar patrons laughed as Sam slowly rose to his feet. Hope had her face buried in her hands. The drummer leaned down and whispered something into her ear, and she looked up at him with a dreamy, blissful look. Again, Lily wished she had her camera handy. These little moments would add to the Vermont charm she hoped to convey to Drew, Rita, and Webster at Utopia.

  Lily made her way back to the table where Sage’s male friend had also left to play pool with some other guys.

  Sage grabbed Lily’s arm and pulled her down into the seat. “What the hell did you say to Rick to get him to go up there?”

  “More importantly,” Hope said, “what did you promise him if he did?”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Lily dug her camera out of her bag. “And I certainly didn’t promise him anything. He decided on his own to go up there.”

  Sage and Hope shook their heads. “No way,” Sage said. “He’s only gone up there in front of a crowd one other time that I can recall.”

  “For our mom’
s fiftieth birthday and only because she promised to give him money toward buying new sugaring equipment,” Hope said. “He doesn’t perform for the hell of it.”

  “He hates being up there,” Sage said. “He won’t even play just for us in his own home.”

  Rick rested the guitar in his lap, and that cork on Lily’s bottle of hormones loosened a bit. Why was he up there if he hated it? Just because she’d said she would like to hear him play?

  What else would he do for her? What else did she want him to do?

  ****

  Rick had to admit he liked the feel of the guitar in his hands even if it wasn’t his own. What he absolutely loathed, however, was the blinding spotlight and the entire crowd eyeing him, waiting for him to play. His stomach was knotted, his heart pumping. If he thought about merely playing in the solitude of his house, he could perform in the bar without impeding his health. He could do this.

  But why am I doing it?

  Because Lily had said she wanted him to? Rick pushed that thought aside as the drummer got behind his set, and the band discussed what to play next. It would really irritate him if Lily were the reason he was up there.

  “You up for a little Bon Jovi?” Josh asked.

  “Sure.” Rick squinted under the spotlight to look at Josh.

  “Okay, take it away, brother.” Josh stepped behind the microphone.

  The bar lights dimmed, and Lily was the last thing Rick saw before the spotlight on him intensified. She had her camera out and a smile on.

  Dammit, she is the reason.

  As the rest of the stage lights faded leaving only the spotlight on Rick, he inhaled and focused on the guitar in his lap. Or tried to anyway. He ran a finger along the body of the instrument, but could only think of Lily’s curves. The way her body had felt in his lap this afternoon. The way her hair had fanned out on his thighs.

  Grinding his teeth a little, he played the opening segment for “Wanted Dead or Alive.” Gradually, his jaw relaxed and by the time the rest of the band joined in, he was a little more comfortable. Not much. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that audience was out there, watching, demanding, expecting.

  Lily was out there too. She probably thought he was pretty hokey playing the guitar with this band of bumpkins. She’d no doubt wanted to see him on stage so she could solidify her belief that the woods were full of countrified nuts. He’d bet Lily was accustomed to rock star performances. Hell, she probably knew the real Jon Bon Jovi. She had to think this band was a joke.