Green Mountain Collection 1

by Marie Force

  A woman wearing a bustier with thigh-high stockings and spike heels approached him with a tray of cookies. Only these cookies were little penises wearing cock rings and breasts with clamps affixed to the nipples. Hiding his amusement from the server, he took one of each, wrapped them in a napkin, and stashed them carefully in his bag to share with Lucy later.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He continued down the aisle and happened upon an ongoing demonstration about the different types of lube. Fascinating. He’d had no idea there were types—or flavors for that matter. He hoped they’d included some of that strawberry stuff in his goodie bag.

  Don’t think about what you might do with that. Not here and not now. Although in this room, another hard penis would be right at home. Lucy was correct. He was a fifteen-year-old boy pretending to be twenty-six. In fact, he was probably the worst possible person his father could’ve sent on this mission. No, Landon and Lucas would’ve been worse. And Max. They would’ve been totally ridiculous here—especially together.

  Colton was the picture of maturity compared to the three of them. And then he tried to imagine Hunter here and nearly lost his shit laughing. He sent a text to Lucy. I’m traumatized.

  She wrote right back. Is it crazy?

  Pretending to text, he took a photo of a woman in an adjacent booth demonstrating the proper application of nipple clamps—on her own nipples—and sent it to Lucy.

  OUCH! Bring me something—not that though.

  I’ve got a whole goodie bag to share with you.

  I like goodies. Don’t look at strange boobies. You’ll go blind.

  For the first time in my life, I actually wish I were blind right now.

  Hahahahaha. Wish I’d gone with you. Sounds like more fun than writing html.

  Going to do what I came here for, and then I am out of here.

  Stay strong, little scout. See you when you’re done.

  I’m going to need you to hold me.

  Any time. Xoxo

  CHAPTER 29

  Sugar content of sap: The range was 2.3 percent to 1.3 percent. Others reported a sweeter season than ours.

  —Colton Abbott’s sugaring journal, after the boil

  Smiling after the exchange with Lucy, Colton stashed the phone in his pocket and continued through the exhibit hall until he found the area he’d come to see. A woman wearing a tag with the name Joyce was overseeing the booth. She had blonde hair and wore a sharp red suit. When Colton arrived, she was talking to a couple about her product line and how it brought sizzle back into the love lives of postmenopausal women and their partners.

  An image of his mother popped into his head, and he quickly suppressed it. Under no circumstances would he think about her right now. Or his aunts. Or any other over-fifty women he’d ever known in his life. While he waited his turn to talk to Joyce, Gertrude “Dude” Danforth’s face appeared in his mind, along with her “boyfriend,” Skeeter, who helped Nolan out at the garage. Make it stop, he said silently to his overactive imagination as he perused the line of vibrating devices, lubricants and personal “massagers.” Um, okay.

  As his eyes wandered to the Kegel and prostate “exercising” devices, he reached his limit and stopped looking.

  “Hi there. I’m Joyce. May I help you?”

  “Colton Abbott from the Green Mountain Country Store in Butler, Vermont.”

  “You’re a long way from home.”

  “You have no idea . . .”

  Joyce laughed at his response and the grimace that went along with it. “So what brings you to the show?”

  “My dad and his big ideas about how products like yours would be a good fit for our store.”

  “I take it you have a lot of customers who are over fifty?”

  “We do.”

  “In that case, I bet my products would fly off your shelves. Let me tell you all about them. All of our products are also adaptable to people with special needs,” she began.

  Colton wanted to beg for mercy. But rather, he let Joyce lead him around the booth, filling his head with words and images that all the booze in Manhattan couldn’t erase.

  He emerged from the hotel several hours later a changed man and in possession of things he’d never given a thought to before today. His brain was muddled and filled with thoughts that had his blood racing through his veins, all of it accumulating predictably in one place. He pulled on the collar of the shirt he’d ironed at Lucy’s apartment last night. It was some kind of hot in this city.

  Colton pulled out his phone and called Lucy.

  “Did you survive?”

  “Just barely. How soon can you meet me at your place?”

  “About an hour or so.”

  “I should be able to make it until then.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’ll find out when you get home.”

  “You’re sort of scaring me right now,” she said with a laugh.

  “I’ve been scared all day.”

  “How are you getting home?”

  “I thought I might walk.”

  “Don’t be crazy. It’s too hot to walk. Grab a cab. You’ve got the keys, right?”

  “Yep. Hey, Luce?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you know the sex toy and novelty industry brings in fifteen billion dollars a year in this country?”

  “Is that billion with a B?”

  “Sure is. If you’re ever in the market for penis-themed bachelorette party products, I can hook you up.”

  “That’s very good to know. You never know when you might need a good rubber penis.”

  Her quick retort made him groan, among other reactions. “Don’t talk about penises. It makes mine want you more than it already does.”

  “You brought it up.”

  “Don’t use the word up around him right now. He’s very fragile after the day we’ve had.”

  She laughed so hard she went silent for a full minute. “Fragile my ass.”

  “Great. Now I’m thinking about your ass. Get home, will you.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “Lucy!”

  Her laughter made him smile as he continued to walk along busy, congested sidewalks. He wondered if his goofy grin would have people thinking he was strange, but no one paid any attention to him. They were all frantically moving toward their next destination, many of them wearing earbuds or walking with their noses to their phones.

  He bought a hot dog and an icy-cold Coke from a sidewalk vendor with a thick New Yawk accent. It was the best hot dog Colton had ever had. He’d planned to get a cab but was still walking twenty blocks later when he came to a stop outside a gourmet shop. After checking his reflection in the window to make sure there was no leftover ketchup on his face, he stepped into the cool store.

  It was the kind of place that carried a hundred different types of olive oil and another hundred kinds of vinegar. There were bins of coffee beans waiting to be ground to order, pasta and grains, homemade sauces, jams and breads of all kinds.

  “Help you with something?” a male voice asked.

  “Just looking,” Colton replied.

  “Let me know if you see something that interests you.”

  “I do have one question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you carry any kind of maple syrup?”

  “I’m afraid we don’t.”

  “Would you have any interest in stocking syrup made in Vermont? Perhaps under your own label?” The idea took hold as he said the words.

  “How do you mean?”

  “We make it, you carry it, and we put it in packaging that meshes with your corporate brand.” Colton hoped the guy couldn’t tell he was making this up as he went along.

  “I’m intrigued. How would it work?”

  Colton spent an hour talking to Stefano, who turned out to be the owner of the store, and when he emerged into the heat of the day, he’d landed a client in New York.

  Luc
y had a million and one things to do, especially since she was moving heaven and earth to be able to go home with Colton on Saturday. However, hearing he was on his way back to her apartment—and apparently revved up after his day at the trade show—had her making all kinds of excuses at the office.

  “I might leave early, too,” Diana said. “Still not a hundred percent after the weekend from hell.” Her face was ghastly pale, but Lucy didn’t look much better.

  “Has anyone heard from Mel? Did she survive?”

  “She called this morning to make sure we were okay. Her husband made her go to the ER on Friday night, and they kept her overnight. That’s what I should’ve done. I still feel like hell, and she’s a lot better. All apologies again, of course.”

  “Wasn’t her fault. You should go home.”

  “I think I will.”

  “Before you go, could I talk to you for one second about something?”

  Diana eyed her warily, which Lucy deserved. “Sure.”

  Lucy closed the door and took a seat in one of Diana’s visitor chairs.

  “This is worrisome. You closed the door.”

  “Nothing like that. Sorry.”

  “Oh good. I’m never quite certain where you’re concerned.”

  “And that’s entirely my fault. You replaced my best friend. I miss her. That has absolutely nothing at all to do with you, and I’m sorry if I’ve been an ass to you.”

  “You haven’t been an ass, and I knew you and Cameron were tight. It has to be hard to see things change.”

  “It’s been really hard, but I’m thrilled for her. Will is an awesome guy, and they’re so happy together.” Lucy bit her lip and forced herself to press on. “Which brings me to my own awesome guy. His brother. Colton.”

  “Oh,” Diana said. And then her eyes got very big. “Oh. Are you moving, too?”

  “No, nothing quite so dramatic. However, I do find myself wanting to spend more time in a place that’s six hours from here on a good day with no traffic.”

  Diana tapped her pen against her chin. “That is a dilemma.”

  “His sister is getting married the weekend after next. I’m invited to the shower this weekend and the wedding the following weekend. I was thinking if I jammed a bunch of meetings into this week, I could go up there next week and do the creative portion. Would you have a problem with that?”

  “Me? No, not at all.”

  “I might need you to handle a few things here that aren’t technically in your job description.”

  “Which is also fine.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me when I’ve been a total ass to you?”

  Diana laughed. “Because I’ve been where you are. I don’t do change very well myself, and I knew you were working it out and you’d come around eventually. Or I’d find another job.” Diana shrugged. “It’s just work. It’s not my whole life.”

  “I don’t want you to find another job. You’re doing fantastic work for us, and we’re all very pleased. And that you’re willing to cover for me while I’m out of town is extremely helpful.”

  “Happy to do it. I bet you’ll get a lot done up there in the mountains without all the distractions of the office.”

  “That’s the plan. Although there will be distractions of another kind.”

  “The best kind,” Diana said with a knowing smile.

  “Indeed.”

  “What’s he like, this guy of yours?”

  “He’s . . . He’s amazing. He showed up in the midst of Friday night’s disaster and totally took over.”

  “Oh wow. I can’t imagine a guy around for that.”

  “Neither could I, but he was incredible through the whole thing. Never batted an eye—and he still wanted to have sex with me afterward.”

  Diana howled with laughter. “He sounds like a prince.”

  “He is.”

  “You’re in love.”

  “Very much so.”

  “And he lives in Vermont.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “We don’t have one. This week he’s here. Next week I’m there. The week after that? Who knows? But he says we’ll figure it out, so that’s what we’re doing. We’re figuring it out one week at a time.”

  “Good for you, Lucy. You deserve to be happy.”

  “That’s nice of you to say, and I’m sorry if I was less than welcoming.”

  “You were fine, and I’m glad I waited you out. I have a feeling you’re a good friend to have once you come around.”

  “I will be. And thanks for being willing to help me spend time in Vermont.”

  “It’s no problem. This is the best job I’ve had in a long time. I’m happy to do whatever you need me to do.”

  Though she didn’t have the time, Lucy chatted with Diana for another fifteen minutes, time well spent in getting to know her new colleague a little better. She returned to her own office and was startled to find her dad waiting for her. He hadn’t been there in years, since right after he helped her and Cam move into the office space a year after they started their business.

  She gave him a kiss on his cheek. “What’re you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you at work. They told me you were in a meeting, and they said I could wait for you in here. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is. Do you want coffee or tea? I think we have Coke, too.”

  “No, I don’t want anything.”

  “Why do you look all spun up? What’s wrong?”

  “I am. I’m wrong. What I said to you last night about not moving away from me. I was awake all night thinking about it, and it was wrong of me to say that to you.”

  “Dad—”

  “Wait. Hear me out.” He took a moment, seeming to be searching for the words. “Ever since your mother died—and for a long time before that, if I’m being entirely honest—you’ve been the glue that’s held our family together. We all rely on good old Lucy, and she’s always there for us no matter what.”

  “I love you guys, Dad. You’ve never been a burden to me.”

  “I know that, Lucy, but there comes a time when you have to live your own life and do what you need to do to be happy. If that means moving to Vermont to live with a man who’s clearly in love with you—and vice versa—then that’s what you should do. As much as I’d miss you, I want you to be happy.”

  Lucy went to him and wrapped her arms around him, fighting back tears as he did the same. “I’m not moving, Dad. I meant it when I said that.”

  “You shouldn’t rule it out. Not yet anyway.”

  “I ruled it out weeks ago when I started to realize this thing with him was turning out to be much more than a weekend fling.”

  “Why, Lucy? If Cameron can be happy there, why can’t you?”

  “Because she doesn’t have what I have here. She doesn’t have a dad like you and a sister like Emma, a niece like Simone. Not to mention she walked away from the business, which was totally her prerogative, but it leaves me with fewer options, you know?”

  “Businesses can be sold or disbanded or even relocated.”

  She eyed him skeptically. “Why are you pushing so hard to get rid of me?”

  “That’s not what I’m doing. Believe it or not, I know what it’s like to be young and crazy in love. I didn’t get nearly enough time with your mom,” he said softly, his eyes filling. He never talked about his late wife. Ever. Lucy had wondered if he was angry at her for dying, but now she could see he was heartbroken, even after all these years. “Time is a very precious commodity, honey. Don’t squander it. Spend it with the people you love the most.”

  “That’s what I’m doing, Dad. And besides, I promised Simone I wouldn’t leave her.”

  “Simone doesn’t have the right to ask that of you. None of us do.”

  “And none of you have. I’m doing what I want to do. Being here with you is what I want.”

  “What about marriage and childre
n and a family of your own? How does that happen if he doesn’t move or you don’t?”

  “We haven’t even begun to discuss things like that,” she said, though the question caused a wave of yearning deep inside her. To be married to Colton, to have his children, to laugh with him and wake to his gorgeous face on the pillow next to hers every day . . .

  “Lucy, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  She shook her head, furious with herself for letting her emotions take over. “You didn’t. It’s a tough situation, and I knew going into it that it wouldn’t be easy, but he’s always been worth it. You should’ve seen him when I was sick.”

  “I’ve met him twice, and I can already tell he’s made of good stuff. He’s got the right kind of hands, for one thing.”

  “The right kind of hands?” Lucy asked, baffled. “Not that I don’t agree that his hands are pretty fabulous, but something tells me we aren’t talking about the same thing.”

  Ray grimaced. “Remember who you’re talking to, young lady.”

  Lucy giggled at his stern tone. “Don’t blame me. You’re the one who said it. I was just agreeing with you.”

  “What I meant was that you can tell by a man’s hands whether he’s a hard worker.”

  “That’s not really true anymore, Dad. You’ve heard of the digital revolution . . .”

  “In my world, it’ll always be true. Your Colton has working man’s hands. You can tell by looking at them that he’s a hard worker.”

  “Yes, he is,” Lucy said, ridiculously touched by her dad’s assessment—and approval—of the man she loved. “You should come up and see his mountain someday. The process involved with making syrup would fascinate you.”

  “I might just do that.”

  “All right then. We’ll make some plans.”

  “Do what you need to do to be happy, Lucy Lu. The rest of us will be just fine no matter what you decide.”

  Lucy hugged him again. “Thanks for coming all the way down here to tell me that. I’m sorry you lost sleep over it.”