And it was a perfect face. One she could look at for the rest of her life.
“I suddenly feel very underdressed.” Lily gestured to her gray yoga pants and purple hooded sweatshirt. Her hair was up in a sloppy ponytail.
“You’re breathtaking,” Rick said. “Just like always.” He reached out his hand and took hers, tugging so her body pressed up against his.
“What’s this all about?” She scanned the room, taking in the flowers, the music, the two wrapped presents on the coffee table, the fact that Rick must have cleaned up Drew’s mess.
“I have two ideas I’d like to share with you and get your approval. You ready?” He guided her to the couch and gently pushed her to sitting.
“I guess so.” Her heart drummed in her chest with a little more force as she waited to hear what he had to say.
“Okay, idea one involves this.” He sat next to her and presented the larger, rectangular gift. “Open it.”
Lily took the present onto her lap and slowly removed the paper. She was both nervous and excited at the same time. What was Rick up to?
When the last of the wrapping paper had been torn away, a beautiful carved sign lay in her lap. Lily swiped her palm across the rustic wooden finish and fingered the lettering. “Hinsdale Inn?”
“I think we should turn this property into a bed-and-breakfast inn in memory of your grandmother. You can still use your hotel expertise, but in a scaled down capacity that’s right for this area. I can still tap the trees and you’ll build barns with me. We’ll both win.” Rick looked at her with such a hopeful expression in those blue eyes.
“Rick, it’s a wonderful idea! I love it.” She threw her arms around him and dropped kisses on his cheek. “Let’s do it.”
“I’m glad you like the idea. I wasn’t sure, but it sounded right in my head.”
“That’s a smart head you got there, handsome.” Lily fingered his bowtie. “I don’t know that it required such formal dress though.”
“Actually, the tux is for this gift and idea number two.” He leaned forward and plucked the remaining gift off the coffee table—the small, box-like gift.
When he slid off the couch and got to his knee in front of her, Lily squealed and yelled, “Yes!”
Rick laughed. “How do you know there aren’t worms in this box and I’m just going to ask you to go fishing at Cassie’s Pond?”
“If there are only worms in there, I will hurt you.”
Smiling, he ripped the paper off to reveal a velvet jewelry box. He took her hand in his. “I thought I had it all, living here in the woods. I didn’t realize what was missing until you stormed in on impractical boots and showed me. Now I can’t live without you, Lily. I love you.”
He opened the box and Lily gasped at the shiny, square-cut diamond that stared back at her.
“Oh, Rick. It’s beautiful.”
“I bought it in California, so you’ll always have that La Jolla sunshine with you. Even here in Vermont.” He slipped it onto her finger. “I’d ask you to marry me, but you already said yes. I’m not giving you the chance to change your mind.”
“I’d never change my mind. I love you, Rick.”
She leaned forward, cupped his cheeks in her hands, and kissed him. She’d enjoy kissing him like that every day for the rest of their lives together.
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Check www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com for release dates on
Books Two and Three in the Maple Leaf Series
More Than Cookies (Book Two—Sage’s story)
More Than Rum (Book Three—Hope’s story)
Read on for a peek at More Than Cookies!
More Than Cookies Sneak Peek
Chapter One
A solo guitar captivated the entire room. Sage Stannard watched her cousin, Rick, as his fingers deftly strummed the strings to accompany the band’s lead singer as she sang “Angel Eyes,” by Jeff Healey.
So tonight I’ll ask the stars above,
How did I ever win your love?
What did I do? What did I say,
to turn your angel eyes my way?
Sage glanced to Lily, Rick’s brand new wife, sitting in a chair right in front of the band, her wedding gown spilling white and lace and pearls all around her. Red-gold curls were piled high on her head, a sparkly tiara-type headpiece nestled in all that hair. She looked like a real-life princess, and Sage wondered how the hell her hermit, formerly grouch-tastic cousin could have ever snagged such a woman.
It doesn’t add up.
Lack of logic aside, Sage was happy for her cousin and his bride. Rick had gotten Lily over her fear of the woods due to a bear attack, and Lily had pulled Rick out of the solitary existence he’d prescribed for himself after suffering a heart attack at such a young age. The sassy Los Angeles hotel designer had managed to bring the quiet Vermont maple syrup maker back to a semi-human level.
She’d even gotten him to wear a tuxedo.
It was a nice story all around. So nice, it made Sage gag a little. Nothing too major. Just a slight difficulty swallowing all that perfection, all that ooey-gooey sweetness.
All that happily-ever-after bullshit.
Not that Sage didn’t want a slice of that sunshine for herself, but her track record in that department… well… sucked. Big time. Not only was the pool of available men in their thirties back home in Vermont no bigger than a goldfish bowl, but the fish in that bowl were super huge yawns with a capital Y. She’d given them a chance, but how many hayrides can a girl go on before it just isn’t romantic or cute or fun anymore?
Forty-three. That was how many. Sage knew firsthand, and she was totally done conducting research on the matter.
“Hey.” A sharp jab to her side made Sage turn to face her sister, Hope, sitting next to her. Both of them sported bridesmaids sheath dresses Lily had picked out for the wedding. Dressed alike, they resembled identical twins though Sage was a year older than Hope. “I never thought we’d see the day our Ricky was so… so…”
“Happy,” Sage said with a sigh.
“Yeah. I mean, look at him. He usually closes his eyes when he plays as if he’s hiding or something.”
Hope was right. At the moment, Rick’s big blue eyes were staring right at Lily. He had an expression on his face that clearly said he’d never get tired of looking at his wife, never get tired of waking up next to her. God, he loved her so much.
Something stung in Sage’s eyes and she squeezed them shut.
“You okay?” Hope slid her arm around Sage’s shoulders.
Sage nodded and folded her arms across her chest. The time to get out of her bridesmaid dress was fast approaching. She was about done with this wedding, happiness for Rick and Lily aside. A foul mood lurked around the corner, waiting to pounce, to seek and destroy.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
Hope studied Sage’s face for a few uncomfortable seconds then shrugged. “I don’t know. You seem—”
“Look, I’m fine. You’re fine. Rick and Lily are extra-fine.” She caught sight of their mother, Joy, whooping it up with Lily’s father, Robert Hinsdale, the famous actor, and his actress girlfriend, Jeri Kappen. “Even Mom is fine. Let’s just finish this night up and get on with things.”
“Someone needs more wine.” Hope tapped a finger against Sage’s empty glass. “Turn that frown upside down, girlie, before I have to officially classify you as Downright Pissy.” She attempted to poke Sage in the cheek, but Sage slapped her hand out of the way.
“Knock it off.” Okay, now she sounded downright pissy to her own ears. Dammit.
She focused on Rick stepping off the stage and pulling Lily out of her s
eat. He dropped a light kiss on the back of her hand then slid his arm around her. The two of them slow danced to the next song and soon the dance floor was full of couples. Hope had already trotted off to stand next to their mother. Neither of the girls had brought dates to the wedding because it was in California. Not that both of them hadn’t tried, but summer in Vermont meant every able-bodied male was outside nearly around the clock growing, cutting, building, or digging something. They were permanently attached to their John Deere tractors. None of them were willing to hike across the country, especially to Los Angeles, the direct opposite of small-town Danton, Vermont.
Usually being alone didn’t bother Sage. Today, it was getting to her. She needed a break from all this mushy stuff.
Wedging her small purse under her arm, she got up and marched out of the ballroom. She hunted down the bathroom and pushed open the door. Standing under the air conditioning vent, she let the cool air wash over her face. She walked to the sinks and the wall of mirrors behind them. Giving herself a once over, she had to admit Lily had chosen well with the bridesmaid dresses. An electric green that made Sage’s eyes a deeper shade of emerald, the dress showed off curves and emphasized legs toned from tons of hiking in the woods, running around Rick’s store baking cookies and other confections during sugaring season, and zipping to catering jobs in between. The dress also showed that though Sage liked to cook and adored eating even more, her size six ass was in top shape.
She angled herself a little to check out her own butt in the mirror. Why doesn’t someone want a piece of that? Well, she supposed men existed who wanted a piece of that, and several she’d already given it too, but none that she wanted to say “I do” to.
And she was bored with the search. So bored.
She used the bathroom, washed her hands, and finger-combed her straight blonde hair before applying more lip gloss and heading back out to the reception. She paused in the doorway of the room and spotted Lily’s cousin—whose name she’d forgotten—making his way toward her. He’d rubbed up against her “accidentally” three times when they were taking part in the actual wedding ceremony, and Sage was certain she didn’t want to allow him a fourth “accident.” She couldn’t be responsible if her hand “accidentally” made contact with his face.
Deciding to go outside instead, she turned on her three-inch high heels and made her way down a stairway with a pearl-topped railing. When the jewel-embellished doors slid open, Sage stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Gems Utopia Resort, one of the themed hotels Lily had designed before she left it all to come to Vermont to be with Rick for as long as they both shall live.
Craning her head back, she took in the impressive exterior of the hotel. All cut angles and shiny surfaces, the entire structure screamed extravagance and creativity.
Creativity. That was what Sage needed in a man. She didn’t mind the roughened, lumberjack look—hell, who would?—but she was looking for more than muscles encased in flannel. She wanted someone with a spark.
Or someone who could light a spark in her.
****
The July sunshine filtered through the maple trees and white pines, casting warm, golden streaks on the lush greenery beneath Orion Finley’s booted feet. He absolutely loved summertime in the Vermont woods. Everything smelled fresh and alive. Huge dragonflies hovered in place as they checked on a leaf here, a branch there, landed on a rock bordering the path leading deeper into the woods. A few hawks circled overhead, letting loose a screech every now and then to make sure Orion knew they were keeping an eye on him.
Only two things were missing to make this trek into the forest perfect. His dog, a Greater Swiss Mountain dog named Ranger, and his six-year old daughter, Myah Rose. Both were currently held captive in his fire-breathing ex-wife’s lair.
Temporary.
He had to constantly remind himself that it wouldn’t be this way forever. He would get both of them back. Soon. Orion didn’t care what he had to do, but Ranger and Myah belonged with him and he wouldn’t stop until everything was as it should be. He had plenty of room at his farmhouse for a small girl, a large dog, himself, and his father, Ian Finley, a retired fisherman who Orion now took care of. He could handle it all. He knew he could. Proving it—when his opposition was a she-beast lawyer he used to love—was turning out to be the biggest challenge of his life, but he wasn’t one to shy away. Especially not when the reward was getting to see Myah every single day.
Damn, he missed her blue eyes and her black hair—two features she shared in common with him, only her eyes were bigger and her hair longer. Her smile was definitely better than his too, because she still remembered how to smile. His lips, on the other hand, were reluctant to take on that shape since The Divorce. Since Adriana Whitfield-Finley, his once true love, decided being married to a chainsaw artist and living in the woods of Vermont wasn’t what she was “put on this stinking planet to do.” She wasn’t supposed to be “wasting her time and intelligence on someone like him.” Her words. Her razor sharp, dice-a-man’s-heart-into-pieces, fuck you words.
Whatever. He never should have gotten involved with her in the first place. He knew as well as his father did that sophisticated women didn’t settle down with men like them. Men who liked to spend their days outdoors, making things with their own two hands. Men who were more comfortable wearing sawdust instead of cologne.
Men who weren’t rolling in money.
Orion’s mother had skipped out on them when he was ten. Adriana hadn’t made it to Myah’s tenth birthday before she had to get away from the “stifling squeeze” Vermont—and apparently he—had applied to her metaphorical throat.
He hated metaphors.
He also wouldn’t be getting into any situations remotely resembling a relationship with a woman. They were all sweet smiles and passionate kisses… until the claws came out.
No thanks.
Sighing now as he continued farther into the woods, Orion pushed aside thoughts of Adriana, Myah, Ranger, and his father. This morning was about finding the perfect trees to make his next sculptures. The order was for three, life-sized black bears—one of his most favorite things to carve. A zoo in New York had requested the carved critters for a display to be erected near the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center in December. They wanted them now so they could build the rest of the display around his bears. This one customer would bring in some good money. Hopefully it would be enough to convince a judge that he could, in fact, support his daughter.
After taking a swig from his water bottle, Orion followed a brook toward a grove of suitable pines. Tall, straight, and healthy, they were perfect for this project. He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and produced three lengths of bright orange rope. He tagged three trees to mark them for his buddy, Adam Rouse, who would come in with the heavy equipment, cut those babies down for him, and tow them to Orion’s workshop. Then he’d get to hack away at the logs until the bears emerged from the shavings.
He couldn’t wait.
Carving always made him feel… free. As if he could give birth to absolutely anything he wanted out of that wood. As if it were just waiting for him to breathe beauty, creativity, and art into it. As if, without him, the wood would not have fulfilled its true purpose in this life.
He ran his rough and scarred hands over the trunk of the nearest pine. The bark scraped across his fingertips—except for the pinkie fingertip on his left hand. He’d lost from the first knuckle up to the tip during one carving project where he was making the entire cast of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz for an obsessed Frank L. Baum fan. If Orion had “only had a brain,” he would have been extra careful carving around the lion’s mane, but he’d been still developing his techniques. Still experimenting with which angles created the right effects, which tools did the job best. He’d made a rather important note to self on that job. Under no circumstances should one’s pinkie finger come into contact with the grinder’s blade. Not good. Lots of blood. Lots of swearing.
Looking at
that abbreviated finger now, he shook his head and pulled out his cell phone.
“Hey, Adam,” he said when his buddy answered. “I’m west of the brook, about two-thirds of a mile in. Tagged three trees.”
“Got it,” Adam said. “I’ll grab those tomorrow for you.”
“Thanks, man.” And that ended their conversation. Vermont men didn’t need a lot of words to get jobs done. Orion liked it that way.
Carrying his phone, he turned to retrace his steps back to his workshop. As he walked, dog barks and a few gunshots echoed somewhere closer than he would have liked. Damn hunters were always parading through his land with their bloodhounds, cornering bears and calling it a sport when they put a bullet into the trapped creature.
Pointless.
As far as Orion was concerned, there were much better ways to spend one’s time.
He continued on his way, but stopped when a deer bounded across his path. Its big brown eyes connected with his for a moment then the animal was gone. While Orion stared down the path the deer had taken, another shot rang out.
Something hot and fucking painful bit into his right thigh. He immediately clamped a hand over the aching area and his stomach did a sick flip-flop when his hand came away wet and red. His vision got spotty. His ears rang and not in the this-is-an-awesome-rock-concert way. No, definitely more like the I’ve-been-shot-and-am-going-to-pass-out way instead.
This was so not the morning he’d planned.
Check www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com for release information!
Other Available Titles by Christine DePetrillo
Alaska Heart
Firefly Mountain
Kisses to Remember
Abra Cadaver
Lazuli Moon
Dive (mermaid anthology with Joseph Mazzenga, Heather Rigney, Rachel Moniz)
Night Eternal (gothic poetry with author Joseph Mazzenga)
More Than Pancakes (The Maple Leaf Series Book 1) Page 26