Green Mountain Collection 1

by Marie Force

“Everyone go home,” Lucy said as a wave of nausea hit her. “Lock up and go.”

  The staff cleared out, and Mel returned to the conference room looking green around the edges. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. I get sushi from that place all the time, and I’ve never had a problem before.”

  “Not your fault. Go on home before it gets worse.”

  “I’m so sorry again. I’ll call you next week.”

  “Sounds good.” Feeling worse by the second, Lucy ran for her office to grab her purse and phone and was hailing a cab at the curb when lunch came roaring back up, leaving her heaving into a sidewalk trash can while people on the street made a wide berth around her. She’d never been so violently ill in her life, even after a few unfortunate drinking episodes during her misspent youth. When the vomit finally stopped coming, she stood upright, the sidewalk swimming before her eyes and the heat making her feel even sicker.

  She held up her arm weakly. “Taxi. Please. Taxi.” As one of one of New York’s famous yellow cabs came to a stop in front of her, she crawled into the backseat and gave the driver her address. “Hurry.”

  “Are you high or something?” the driver asked in broken English. “Don’t want no drugs in my car.”

  “Not drugs,” Lucy assured him. “Food poisoning.”

  “Don’t want that neither.”

  “Believe me, I don’t either. Drive fast and end the misery for both of us.”

  He drove like the car was on fire and got her home in record time.

  Lucy handed him a twenty and didn’t wait for her change. She didn’t have the time. The two flights of stairs that led to her third-floor apartment seemed like a mountain, and she was sweating profusely by the time she made it to the third-floor landing. She pushed open the door, dropped her purse on the floor inside the door and ran for the bathroom.

  The plane landed ten minutes late, which was maddening to Colton after days of counting the hours until eight o’clock Friday night. Then it took forever for people to gather all the crap they’d brought on the plane and get the hell off. By the time he reached the terminal, it was nearly twenty after eight, and he hated that he’d made her wait.

  He jogged through the crowds, dodging vehicles and luggage and strollers and general Friday night mayhem in the busiest airport he’d ever been in. Will had warned him about what to expect in the city, but even with preparation, the crowds were overwhelming.

  Lucy planned to meet him at baggage claim, since he’d had to check a bag to bring the clothes he needed for a week. Colton took the escalator downstairs but didn’t see her bright auburn hair anywhere in the sea of humanity that surrounded him. He collected his bag off the carousel and moved out of the fray to call her. The phone rang and rang before her voicemail picked up.

  “Hey, Luce. I’m here. Wondering where you are. Give me a call or text to let me know.”

  He waited expectantly for the next fifteen minutes, scanning the crowd all the while and looking for the distinctive hair he’d know anywhere. After half an hour had passed, he began to get worried and called her again. No answer.

  This wasn’t at all what he’d expected, and he had no idea what to do. He didn’t even know exactly where she lived. When the clock struck nine and she was officially an hour late, he called Cameron.

  Her “hello” was hesitant.

  “Hey, it’s me, Colton.”

  “Oh hi. I didn’t recognize the number. What’s up? I thought you were going to New York today?”

  “I’m in New York, at LaGuardia, actually, but Lucy’s a no-show, and her phone is going right to voicemail.”

  “That’s weird. She could be stuck in Friday night traffic with a dead cell phone.”

  The possibility brought relief. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Give her another hour and then grab a cab to her place.”

  “I’m afraid I have no idea where she lives.”

  “I’ll text you the address.”

  “Thanks, Cam.”

  “Try not to worry. Anything is possible in New York.”

  “You don’t think . . .”

  “What?”

  He looked down at the floor, unsure of how to say the words that had been circulating in his mind since he realized she wasn’t there. “That she’s changed her mind about me?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, and even if she had, she wouldn’t do it this way. I probably don’t have to tell you that Lucy’s a straight shooter. She doesn’t play games. If she didn’t want to see you, she would’ve told you so.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just being paranoid.”

  “Long-distance relationships will do that to you. But remember, this is Lucy we’re talking about. What you see is what you get. I promise she’s been delayed and is probably freaking out because she knows you’re waiting for her. She’ll come running in there any second.”

  “Thanks, Cam. Appreciate the pep talk.”

  “Let me know when you connect with her, okay? I’ll be worried until I hear.”

  “I will.”

  “Have a great time this week.”

  “Thanks again.”

  Colton took Cameron’s advice and gave it another hour. He tried to reach Lucy several more times with no luck, so at ten he hailed a cab and gave the address Cameron had texted him. On the way he thought about Cameron and how quickly she’d become a good friend to his entire family. Will was lucky to have such a great woman in his life. There was nothing about her not to love. Well, unless you were Megan, that is.

  Thinking about something other than where Lucy might be kept Colton from going insane on the long ride from Queens into Manhattan, through traffic unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Forty-five minutes after he left the airport, the cab pulled up to Lucy’s place in Soho, information Cameron had included in her text.

  He paid the fifty-dollar fare and got his bag from the trunk before the cab pulled away. It was now three hours after Lucy was supposed to meet him, and he’d begun to feel seriously anxious about her safety more than an hour ago. While he’d tried not to go to worst-case scenario, what other reason could there be for her to fail to show up at the airport when she’d been so excited to see him earlier in the day?

  Someone was coming out of Lucy’s building as he went up the stairs, and the guy held the door for Colton. He suspected that wasn’t cool, but he wasn’t about to mention it when Cameron had warned him it might not be easy to get into her building if she wasn’t home. He trudged up two flights of stairs and saw her door hanging open, keys still in the lock and her purse spilled on the floor.

  A sense of unease traveled up his spine, settling into a pang of fear that sent a shiver racing through him. What the hell? He stepped inside her apartment, put down his bags down and called for her. No reply.

  Should he proceed or call the police? Knowing she was home and possibly in some sort of trouble had him overruling his sense of caution and moving into the apartment to look for her. He found her out cold on the bathroom floor. A stale odor in the room indicated she’d been sick.

  He dropped to his knees beside her, shocked by how ghostly pale she was. The first thing he did was check for a pulse and was relieved to find a steady beat in her neck. “Lucy. Honey. Can you wake up for me?” He got up to wet a washcloth with cool water and ran it over her face. “Luce?”

  Her eyes fluttered open for a brief second and then quickly closed again. “You should go to your hotel,” she said so faintly he almost couldn’t hear her. “Don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m not going anywhere. What happened?”

  “Bad sushi.”

  “Oh no, honey. How long have you been here?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost eleven.”

  “Since three or so.” Her eyes opened again. “The airport. Was supposed to get you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I found you. That’s all that matters.”

  Tears spilled down her chee
ks. “Don’t want you here for this. So gross.”

  “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

  Her moan was quickly followed by a frantic scramble for the toilet that she could barely manage on her own.

  Colton pulled her hair back from her face and held her while she heaved. Her entire body was racked by the effort, which yielded nothing much of anything. “How many times have you been sick, honey?” he asked as he wiped her face again.

  “Don’t know. Lost count.” She began to cry in earnest. “I stink so bad and this is so far beyond disgusting.”

  He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “You don’t stink that bad, and I’ve certainly seen worse than this. There’s no way I’m leaving you when you’re this sick, so deal with it.”

  “How did you even find me?”

  “Cameron.” Colton propped her up against the wall and turned the water on in the big claw-foot tub.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Getting you cleaned up.”

  “I can’t . . .”

  “You don’t have to do a thing.”

  “Colton . . . You should just go to your hotel. I’ll call you when I feel better.”

  “Not happening, so you can quit trying to get rid of me.” When the tub was filled with warm water, he shut off the tap and grabbed a towel that was hanging on the back of the door. Then he turned his focus on helping her out of her dress, which had apparently taken a direct hit at some point during the siege.

  “You’re never going to want to have sex with me again after this.”

  The unexpected comment made him laugh. “You don’t think so? I hate to tell you that’s absolutely untrue. As soon as you’re feeling better, look out.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  He lifted her easily and deposited her gently into the warm water.

  She let out a moan of ecstasy. “That feels really good.”

  “I had a feeling it might.” Colton used a washcloth to wet her hair, which he washed with products that were sitting on a corner shelf above the tub. “This stuff smells good.”

  “It’s my favorite.” She looked up at him. “I haven’t had my hair washed by anyone other than a hairdresser since I was a baby.”

  He winked at her. “I’m at your service.”

  She reached up to curl her fingers around his wrist. “Thanks.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  “Sure it is,” she said with a laugh. “This is exactly the kind of pleasure you had in mind for tonight.”

  “Any time I get to spend with you is a pleasure.”

  “Even when I’m barfing and too weak to move?”

  “Even then.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “About you.” The words came so easily that they were out of his mouth before he took a second to consider what he was saying. But he didn’t regret saying it, especially because he made her smile.

  “The feeling is quite mutual.”

  “Good.”

  CHAPTER 23

  70 degrees today. By far the warmest day of the year. BUT, a hard freeze is predicted for Saturday night, so we’ll hold out to see if the sap runs on Sunday.

  —Colton Abbott’s sugaring journal, April 19

  “Were you mad when I didn’t show up at the airport?”

  “Not mad so much as worried you might’ve changed your mind about me.”

  “I never would’ve left you stranded like that, even if I had changed my mind, which I haven’t.”

  “That’s what Cameron said, too. She said if you were through with me, you would’ve said so.”

  “She’s right.”

  “Will you tell me? If you get to a place where this doesn’t work for you anymore, will you just tell me?”

  “Yes. Will you?”

  He nodded. “I’m not expecting to get there any time soon. Just so you know.”

  “Me either. Just so you know. I’m sorry you had to fend for yourself in the big city. What do you think of it so far?”

  “I hardly noticed a thing because I was so anxious to get to you.”

  “Colton?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I think I’m going to be sick again.”

  He moved quickly to grab the small trash can that sat next to the sink and got it to her with no time to spare. When she was done, he helped her out of the tub and into the towel he wrapped around her. He held her up at the sink so she could brush her teeth. “Bedroom?”

  “That way,” she said, pointing. Like every other part of her, the vomiting had weakened her voice. She directed him to where he could find sweats and a T-shirt that he helped her into. Then he tucked her into bed.

  “I know you’re going to object, but I’m wondering if you need a doctor.”

  “No.”

  “The longer this goes on, the more dehydrated you’re going to get, and that can go bad really quickly.”

  “I don’t need a doctor.”

  “Then you have to drink something. I’ll get you anything you want, but you have to stay hydrated.”

  “Water.”

  “Cold water?”

  “That sounds good.” She looked up at him with blue eyes that were bigger than usual in her pale face. “You don’t know where anything is.”

  He leaned over to kiss her. “I’m a resourceful kind of guy. I’ll figure it out.” It took him less than five minutes to locate glasses and fill one of them with water from a pitcher in the fridge that contained some sort of funky filter system.

  When he returned with the water, he found her asleep and debated whether he should wake her to get her to drink something. He decided to let her sleep while she had a break from the vomiting and took advantage of the lull to clean the bathroom and gather her dirty clothes.

  Then he sent Cameron a text to let her know what was going on.

  She responded almost immediately, as if she’d been waiting to hear from him. Oh no! I hope she’s okay!

  She’s miserable but seems okay. Full of beans as always.

  That’s a relief. Thank goodness u r there with her.

  I’ll be with her until she feels better. Keep me posted.

  Will do. Thanks for the help earlier.

  Happy to support the Colton and Lucy cause.

  We’re a cause now?

  I’m scared of you.

  LOL. TTYL. That means: Laugh out loud and talk to you later.

  Smart ass. I knew that.

  I wasn’t sure you spoke text yet.

  Colton laughed at her snappy comeback. She was funny. He’d give her that. The sound of a phone ringing in the apartment took him back to where her purse had spilled inside the door. He picked up Lucy’s phone and saw her dad was calling for the third time. Hoping he was doing the right thing, he took the call.

  “Hi, Mr. Mulvaney. This is Lucy’s friend, Colton Abbott.”

  “Where’s my daughter?”

  “I’m with her at her apartment, but she’s sick.”

  “Sick? With what?”

  “Food poisoning, apparently. She had some bad sushi.”

  “Oh no. Well, that explains why she hasn’t been answering her phone.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is fine, but when your daughter doesn’t answer her phone you keep trying until she does, no matter how old she is.”

  Colton smiled at the feisty reply. He could see now where Lucy’s sauciness came from. “You sound a lot like my own father, who would do the same thing if one of his daughters didn’t answer her phone.”

  “Do I need to come there to be with her?”

  “No, sir. I’m taking care of her, but I’m sure she’d like to see you when she feels a little better.”

  “I’ll bring her some soup tomorrow.”

  “I bet she’ll be ready for that by then.”

  “I’ll get some for you, too.”

  “Oh. Thanks. I’ll look forward to meeting you.”

  “What kind do you lik
e?”

  “Mr. Mulvaney, one thing you’ll soon learn about me is there’s absolutely nothing I won’t eat.”

  That drew a grunt of what might’ve been laughter from the other man. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He paused before he added, “You’ll call me if she gets worse, won’t you?”

  “You have my word.”

  “Very good then. Behave yourself with my daughter.”

  Colton held back the need to laugh because that really wouldn’t have been wise. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good night then.”

  “Good night.”

  Amused by the exchange with Lucy’s dad, he placed her phone on the counter that divided her kitchen and living room. With her asleep, he finally had a chance to take a look at her charming living space. He could see her everywhere—in the wide variety of colors that all seemed to work perfectly together to the furniture that had been purchased with comfort in mind to the modern artwork on the walls. Like Lucy, her place was practical yet artistic and modern as well as whimsical.

  On the mantel over a gas fireplace, he found a collection of figurines that looked old and priceless. He wondered how she’d come to have them and looked forward to asking her about them. As he was perusing a bookshelf full of romances, mysteries and thrillers, his stomach let out a loud growl that reminded him he hadn’t eaten since lunch. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge to see what Lucy had on hand. Other than several containers of yogurt, some wilted grapes and the filtered water, there wasn’t much of anything to keep a guy alive. Luckily, several takeout menus were affixed to the fridge with magnets. The choices were awe-inspiring for someone who lived alone on a mountain: pizza, Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Indian, Italian, Mexican and everything else anyone could ever want.

  The variety of choices had his mouth watering. He wanted all of them, although knowing sushi had made Lucy so sick had him putting aside the Japanese menu. While his first inclination was to order a large meat-lover’s pizza and call it a day, he decided it wouldn’t hurt him to broaden his horizons and chose chicken pad Thai. He would’ve killed for a couple of beers, too, but he wasn’t leaving Lucy for any reason, especially one as frivolous as beer.

  Tomorrow he’d get them stocked up with food, beer and anything else they needed to hunker down for a few days. He peeked in on her curled up in a ball in bed before he went out to see if he could find the Red Sox game on TV since he hardly ever got to watch them play. Mostly he caught the games on the radio and had no idea what many of the players even looked like.