All You Need Is Love

by Marie Force

  Turning back to find Will leaning against the counter and Mrs. Hendricks looking on with concern, Cameron marched back over to confront him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “That my face was all banged up!”

  “Um, maybe because I figured you’d hardly need me to tell you that something had smacked you in the face.”

  “It must’ve been the airbag,” she said, remembering that moment of utter blackness. Had she passed out? She’d been ignoring the pain in her face as she tried to get her bearings with Will, but now that they mentioned it, her nose was throbbing rather insistently.

  “The airbag would also explain the burn on your neck,” Will added.

  “Burn?” Her voice was a shrill squeak. “What burn?”

  He leaned in closer to her, and she swore her heart skipped a beat as she caught a whiff of his outdoorsy scent. The touch of his finger on her neck sent a shocking bolt of heat straight through her, landing in a tingle between her legs. What in the name of hell was that about?

  “There.” As if he’d touched something hot, Will pulled back his hand and straightened out of that insolent slouch he did so well.

  The two of them stared at each other for a long heated moment.

  “Was there an accident?” Mrs. Hendricks asked, interrupting the intense interlude.

  “She hit Fred,” Will said gravely.

  Mrs. Hendricks brought a hand to her ample chest. “Oh! Is he okay?”

  “He seemed no worse for the wear,” Will said. “Good thing it was a small car.”

  “It was a new car!” Cameron said, wondering if anyone in this godforsaken town would care that her adorable little car was no longer adorable.

  “Well, as long as he’s okay,” Mrs. Hendricks said as if Cameron hadn’t spoken. Then she turned to Cameron. “I can call Doc Edwards for you, if you’d like.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” All Cameron wanted was a warm bath and an ice pack for her throbbing nose.

  “Could I borrow the phone to call Nolan about her car?” Will asked.

  “Of course.” Mrs. Hendricks handed him the portable phone, and he dialed a number from memory.

  While Cameron completed the check-in paperwork and handed over her credit card, Will filled Nolan in on the accident.

  “Yep, she ran smack into poor old Fred.” A pause. “He seemed fine, but we might want to send the doc after him in the morning to make sure.”

  Glowering at him, Cameron whispered, “The car. Remember the car?”

  He met her glower with a scowl. “Now, about the car.”

  Finally, Cameron thought, signing on the dotted line for Mrs. Hendricks and accepting the key to her third-floor room.

  Will handed the phone back to Mrs. Hendricks. “Nolan’s going to fetch the car tonight so no one hits it out on the road. He said to check in with him in the morning. The garage is across the street.” Pointing toward the front door. “That way.”

  “Thank you.” Cameron forced herself to look up at him and all his beauty. “I appreciate your help.” His eyes, she realized were light brown, almost gold. Why did he have to be so spectacularly gorgeous and so outrageously cranky?

  “You need help getting your stuff upstairs?”

  The idea of him following her to a hotel room sent more tingling awareness rippling through her. “I can do it.”

  But before the words were out of her mouth, he was already heading to the stairs with her bags. Uttering a quick thank-you to Mrs. Hendricks, Cameron scurried after him.

  On the third floor, he deposited her suitcases outside Room 18. He stopped so suddenly that Cameron nearly ran into his broad back.

  Turning, he caught her inches from his chest, and the awareness that had sizzled between them downstairs chose that moment to reappear. Cameron had never experienced such an overpowering need to touch another person. She rolled her hands into fists to keep from acting on the impulse.

  “Listen,” he said, haltingly, “you seem like a nice enough person.”

  “Wow, thanks.” Charming? Whatever.

  His expression turned stormy. “What I was going to say is that things are apt to get a little heated tomorrow at the meeting. Don’t take it personally, okay? Our beef is with him, not you.”

  “I’m here to do a job. Nothing about this is personal.”

  “Good,” he said, apparently picking up on her double meaning as she’d hoped he would. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “You might want to put some ice on your nose,” he said as he headed down the stairs.

  Too bad he missed the gesture she made at his retreating back.

  CHAPTER 2

  Don’t let the door hit you where the Lord split you.

  —The gospel according to Elmer Stillman

  She’d left her scent in his truck. All the way home to his cabin in the woods outside of town Will was stuck with the reminder of his encounter with the city girl. Meeting her had brought back memories of women he’d known in college, who’d come to the University of Vermont from the city and spent four years poking fun at the mountain lifestyle he treasured.

  Actually, she reminded him of Lisa, who’d arrived at UVM from Boston. Will had made the monumental mistake of falling in love with her and of thinking he could convince her to stay after they graduated. Ignoring the signals she was sending that she couldn’t wait to go home to the city, Will had proposed, hoping he was enough to convince her to stay.

  He wasn’t.

  He hadn’t thought of that disaster in a long time, and it was no coincidence that the encounter with Cameron had brought it all back to remind him to steer clear of women like her who didn’t belong in his world and never would. From the tips of those extravagant suede boots to the ridiculous fur-trimmed vest to the cultured way she spoke, she was a city girl through and through. Even her silly little car was so out of place in the mountains it was laughable.

  Just because everything male in him had stood up and taken notice of her didn’t mean he had to do anything about it. In fact, he’d be wise to continue pretending that nothing about her appealed to him. Tomorrow, she’d get a good dose of the Abbott family dynamics, and if she was smart, she’d hightail it back to the city the minute her toy car was drivable again.

  Speaking of her car, Nolan already had it hitched to the tow truck.

  On the way by, Will slowed down and opened the window. “Thanks, Nolan.”

  “Hey, Will, no problem. Fred did a number on the car, huh?”

  “Sure did,” Will said. “The owner is a woman named Cameron.”

  “Is that a girl’s name?”

  “So I’m told. She’ll be by to talk to you in the morning. Have a good night.”

  “You, too.”

  A few miles past the scene of the accident, Will turned on to the muddy road that led to his cabin, and his truck switched automatically into four-wheel drive. This time of year, mud rather than snow made the roads impassable. Bumping over the chuckholes in the road, he made his way—slowly—to the end and cut the engine.

  As he approached the front door, the scurry of paws on wood met him as they did on evenings when the dogs didn’t accompany him to work. He opened the door to an enthusiastic greeting from his two yellow labs, Trevor and Tanner. “Hi, guys. Sorry I’m late tonight. Had to help a damsel in distress.”

  Will fed the dogs and cracked open a beer before he reached for the phone to call Hunter.

  “Hey, man,” Hunter said. “What’s up?”

  “Dad’s done it again.”

  “What now?”

  Will told his brother about his encounter with the web designer from New York City.

  “Are you serious? What part of ‘we don’t want a website’ didn’t he get?”

  “Apparently the part where we said no.”

  “Goddamn it. When is he going to retire anyway?”

  “Who knows?”

  “This is
great,” Hunter said with a long sigh. “I’m so not up for another big showdown with him.”

  “Neither am I.” Will took a drink of his beer. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Damned if I know. I guess we’ll hear what she has to say and then figure out how to give her the polite brush-off.”

  “Why does he want to take our perfectly nice local business and turn it into a big national production? We all make plenty of money. Why isn’t that enough for him?”

  “You know how he is. Always thinking bigger and better.”

  “While we’re thinking smaller is good—and manageable.”

  “Right. So what’s she like? The web designer?”

  “Typical city girl. You know the type. Get this—she smacked her car into Fred on the way into town.”

  “No shit?” Hunter let out a bark of laughter. “That’s a hell of a welcome. Is Fred okay?”

  “He seemed fine, but her car—not so much. She got a bruised nose and a coupla shiners from the airbag.”

  “Ouch. Well, hopefully she’ll get the gist that we aren’t buying what she’s selling and we’ll be rid of her.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Will didn’t want to ponder the alternative. If she stuck around, he already sensed she’d challenge his pledge to avoid women like her. It would be just as well if she left before resisting temptation became a problem.

  • • •

  Cameron woke up the next morning feeling like she’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. With her face throbbing, she tried to remember if she’d been in an actual fistfight the night before. As images from the mooseastrophy ran through her mind, she realized even her lips seemed swollen. Moaning, she forced herself out of the incredibly comfortable bed and into the bathroom to view the damage.

  She let out a scream at what greeted her in the mirror. Her features were black, blue and swollen almost beyond recognition. Sure enough, her lips had exploded overnight. No amount of makeup would cover this mess. Tears filled her eyes as she went looking for her phone. “Please have a signal. Please.” The phone lit up with three strong bars. “Thank you, Jesus.”

  Cameron found her best friend and business partner Lucy’s number on her list of favorites and pressed Send.

  “Buenos dias,” Lucy said, endlessly cheerful in the morning, which had long ago stopped irritating Cameron, who was anything but a morning person. “Did you make it there in one piece?”

  “Luce,” Cameron said, trying not to fall apart completely.

  “What is it, hon?”

  “I smashed into the town moose, my whole face is swollen, I lost my suede boots and the car is demolished.”

  “You lost the new suede boots?”

  Leave it to Lucy to focus on the boots. “Lucy! My face is a wreck, and I have the meeting at the store in just over an hour. What am I going to do?”

  “I, um, what about cover-up?”

  “Hang on.” Cameron went into the bathroom, snapped a photo of her face in the mirror and texted it to Lucy. A second later her friend’s scream came through the phone line loud and clear. “Thanks. That helps.”

  “Holy hell,” Lucy said. “How did that happen?”

  “Have you heard anything I said? I smashed into the town’s moose, the airbags deployed and did this to my face.”

  “The town has a moose?”

  “Lucy, have you taken your ADD meds today?”

  “Oh, shit, I forgot.”

  Spurred by the reminder, Cameron took the tiny pill that kept her focused during the day and chased it with a drink of water. “I can’t do the meeting. Not looking like this.”

  “You have to do it. We need the retainer, Cam. The payroll for next week is a bit tight.”

  Since Lucy often sugarcoated bad news, Cameron knew “a bit tight” meant nonexistent. “Don’t pay me.”

  “The tightness includes not paying you.”

  “Crap.”

  “Land this new client, and we’ll be saved.”

  “How can I go in there looking like this?”

  “Do they know about the accident with the moose?”

  “One of the sons does. He sort of rescued me and infuriated me at the same time.”

  “Oh, do tell. Sounds like there’s a story.”

  “He’s hot but cranky. Definitely not my type.” As she said the words, a tingle of sensation attacked her backbone, making her squirm on the bed. No matter what her backbone might be trying to tell her, she was not attracted to Will Abbott. She hadn’t even liked him.

  “Hot but cranky. Very interesting.”

  “Lucy, focus! What do I do about my face?”

  “Well, you can still talk and still walk them through the PowerPoint we put together, right? I don’t see why you can’t take the meeting and apologize for your messed-up face.”

  “I so don’t need this right now. And my car,” she said with a moan. “My beautiful new car that I couldn’t afford.”

  “Cam, I know you don’t want to ask your dad—”

  “Stop. Don’t go there. That’s not an option.”

  “Then you’d better land that new account today, bruises or no bruises.”

  “I’ll do my best.” The thought of seeing sexy, grumpy Will Abbott again when she looked like the creature from the black lagoon turned Cameron’s stomach. She prided herself on her impeccable appearance and often relied on her equally impeccable sense of style to wow prospective clients.

  Well, her face may be a mess, but she could still bring it on the style front. “I’d better get going if I’m going to make the ten o’clock meeting. I also have to figure out what’s up with my car.”

  “Keep me posted. We’re all pulling for you, hon.”

  “Thanks, Luce. I’ll call you later—if there’s a signal.”

  Cameron jumped in the shower to wash and condition her long blonde hair. She spent twenty minutes drying and straightening, keeping her focus on her hair so she wouldn’t obsess about the bruises on her face or the tinge of red surrounding the hazel iris in her left eye.

  Since it was still quite chilly in Vermont, she decided on a brown cashmere sweater dress with another pair of boots. Thank goodness she’d brought backups, she thought, pained once again over what had become of the gorgeous cinnamon boots. Maybe she could get back out there today to rescue them from the mud. Her dry cleaner in the city would know what to do with them.

  Her growling stomach was a reminder that she needed to eat something—and get coffee into her system—before the meeting. As she donned her down vest with the faux fur collar, she remembered the LCD projector in the backseat of her car that she needed for the presentation at the store. First, coffee, then find the car and the projector.

  Carrying her purse and computer bag on her shoulder, she opened the door and nearly tripped over a package in the hallway. “What the heck?” She put down her belongings and unfolded the brown paper bag from the Green Mountain Country Store. Inside she found a pair of stylish fur-lined snow boots. They were brown with tufts of white and tan fur at the top. Cameron smiled as she looked inside the bag for a note but didn’t find one.

  It was nice of him, she thought begrudgingly as she went back inside to change into the new boots. Perhaps seeing them on her might soften him up when it came time to talk about a website for the store. Or perhaps not . . . Her feet slid into the boots, which were lined with something soft and warm.

  “Heavenly,” she whispered, wondering how he’d known what size to get her. The boots looked great with her brown dress and down vest. Although she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them in the city, apparently they were what she needed to combat Vermont mud season.

  Still trying to process the fact that he’d brought her the boots, she gathered her belongings and headed downstairs, allowing her injured nose to lead her to coffee. It was a relief to know her nose was still working properly. As she passed a couple in the lobby, she caught the horrified look the woman sent her way.

  “Face versus airbag,” Camero
n said with a wry grin that she instantly regretted. “Airbag won.”

  “Oh my goodness! Are you all right?”

  “I will be, but my modeling career is on hold for a few days.”

  That made them both laugh as she’d hoped it would. Cameron firmly believed if you couldn’t laugh at yourself, you weren’t allowed to laugh at anyone else either.

  “Hope you feel better soon,” the man said.

  “Thank you.”

  Cameron followed the sound of voices and the smell of mouthwatering food to the back of the inn. In a room made entirely of glass, guests had a breathtaking view of the forest and Burke Mountain in the distance as they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast.

  “Good morning, Cameron.”

  She turned to find Mrs. Hendricks, who looked totally different without the curlers and housecoat. Wearing a red sweater with jeans, she looked years younger than she had the night before. “Morning.”

  “Oh, honey.” Mrs. Hendricks zeroed in on Cameron’s face. “Does it hurt?”

  “It doesn’t feel great, but it could be worse. At least nothing feels broken.”

  “That’s good. How about some breakfast?”

  “I’d love some coffee and maybe a muffin to go.”

  “We can fix you right up.”

  Five minutes later, Cameron sipped surprisingly robust coffee as she stepped into cold fresh air heavily scented with woodsmoke and crossed Elm Street to Nolan’s Garage. The sign outside said GAS, REPAIRS, OIL CHANGES, USED CARS, PLOWING AND FIREWOOD.

  “Now there’s a combination you don’t see every day,” Cameron said as she got her first daylight look at the charming little town, made up of colorfully painted buildings that housed a variety of small businesses. From where she stood, she could see the Clip & Dye hair salon with an Aveda sign in the window. Cameron was instantly comforted to know there was a full-service salon in town. Next door to the salon was the Fish-Ski-Hike store with snowboards and hiking boots in the window.

  An art gallery shared space with a coffee shop and beyond that was a glassblower’s studio, a couple of restaurants and a bookstore. She glanced in the other direction and took in the brown and tan Victorian that housed the town hall with the volunteer fire department attached, and a white-steepled church at the end of the street. Her gaze landed finally on the Green Mountain Country Store, which was bigger than it had seemed the night before.