Vermont Valentine (Holiday Hearts #3)

by Kristin Hardy

“That’s it?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “But I thought there was some ceremony.”

  “Ceremony?”

  “You know—” she waved her hands “—a maple sugar on snow ceremony. Some special order for doing things, the magic, the flick of the wrist. Instructions.”

  “Those are the instructions. It’s like an ice cream cone. You eat it.”

  “But what’s with the doughnut and all the utensils? And there’s still the whole dill pickle thing out there. If you want this to catch on it’s going to have to be more organized.”

  Jacob looked at her from under his brows. “People have been doing it this way for three hundred years. I think it’s caught on.”

  “I still think whoever dreamed this up could have been a little more focused.”

  “I’ll look up their ancestors and tell them,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Okay, you want specifics, I’ll give you specifics. You can put the maple sugar on the doughnut or you can dip the doughnut in the warm maple syrup—”

  “Or you can put the maple syrup on the pickle?”

  He stopped.

  “Sorry, I was just getting into the spirit of it. So it’s a personal freedom thing. I can dig that. What’s it like?”

  “Well, taste it.”

  She eyed it. “Demo, please.”

  He shot a glance up to the ceiling, then looked down and spooned up some maple syrup. “Drizzle,” he said, following suit. “Lift.” He teased a bit of it loose with the tine of the fork and laid it on a chunk of doughnut and held it up. “Eat.” He popped it into his mouth.

  “And the pickle?”

  He shook his head. “I think we need to keep your mouth busy.” He made up a bite of maple and doughnut and pressed the other hand to her cheek. “Open up.”

  Instantly, her knees went weak. And he fed it to her, his fingers brushing her lips.

  Rich sweetness exploded through her mouth. The maple syrup was cool and earthy tasting, the texture soft and bendable as warm wax. But it was the touch of Jacob’s fingers that she focused on, even though he’d moved his hand and his touch was only a memory. A memory and a promise.

  “And now, drum roll please, the pickle.” Jacob held out the dill spear to her. Gaze locked on his, Celie leaned forward and took it in her mouth, wrapping her lips around it until she saw his eyes darken. The tangy bite cut the sweetness of the maple, but it was the touch of it on her mouth that remained long after she’d swallowed.

  “So.” Jacob cleared his throat. “What do you think?”

  What she thought was that it was a very great pity that with all of these rooms and all of these beds, there was no place they could go to be alone. “I think we’d better get back out to the conservatory or I’m going to find myself doing something wholly inappropriate to you.”

  A corner of his mouth quirked. “Right here?”

  “Why don’t you test me and find out?”

  His eyes were intent on hers. “I think that I—”

  “Are you guys going to get out here or what?” Gabe stood in the doorway looking at them. “Come on, bro, we need to get this rolling. You can make goo-goo eyes at each other later.”

  Celie smothered a giggle.

  Jacob eyed Gabe narrowly as he walked past. “Aren’t you the master of tact?”

  Gabe grinned. “These special moments we share.”

  “Next time you show up on my doorstep,” Jacob growled, “you’re sleeping with Murphy.”

  Only one or two guests still milled about the conservatory as the mountains faded into evening darkness outside the windows. Bow-tied staff cleared up the last of the bowls and melted ice and stale tag ends of doughnuts. Celie rubbed her back.

  The maple-sugar-on-snow party had been a zoo. She’d laughed, joked, drizzled syrup, handed around samples and generally had the time of her life. True to form, Jacob hadn’t said much and only interacted with the guests when forced, but he’d been there every time she reached for a jar of maple cream or a candy. It was as they’d been in the sugarhouse that night, a team, working together as a single unit. Now, the last guests were drifting off to dinner and she could finally relax.

  “We did well,” she told Jacob, showing him a handful of order forms for maple products.

  “You did well,” he said, kissing her lightly.

  “Two compliments in one day. You’re getting positively excessive.”

  “You want me to show you excessive?” he asked, a predatory glint in his eye.

  Gabe and Hadley walked up before she could reply.

  “Hooray, we’re done,” Hadley said. “And a good time was had by all.”

  “So, were we a success?” Celie asked.

  “Unquestionably. In fact, we’d love to do it again come the March sap run. I think our guests really got a kick out of it. You know, old New England stuff and all that.”

  “You want quaint, we got quaint,” Jacob said.

  “Thank you so much for taking the time to come over. I’m sorry Molly couldn’t be here, but, Celie, it was such a pleasure to meet you. If you ever decide to change careers, you could have a real future in hospitality.”

  Celie gave a mock bow. “You want schmoozing, we got schmoozing.”

  “Well, you’re both wonderful.”

  “Hey, don’t lay it on too thick or he’ll start thinking he’s got a choice,” Gabe complained.

  “Well, he does.”

  “No he doesn’t. He’s family. He has to do it or my mom will beat up on him.”

  Hadley rolled her eyes. “I can hardly imagine that.”

  “You haven’t seen her,” Gabe said seriously.

  “It’s true,” Jacob confirmed. “She could put the fear of God in an atheist.”

  Hadley’s lips twitched. “Are you two big strong men really afraid of your mother?”

  “Yes,” they chorused.

  “Wow. In stereo, even.” Celie looked at Hadley. “We’ve got to find out how to inspire that.”

  “I think it has something to do with going through labor and midnight feedings,” Hadley said. “It makes you ruthless. We don’t quite have it yet.”

  “Definitely don’t have it,” Celie agreed. “Look, they’re just ignoring us and walking away.”

  Hadley crossed her arms and watched them. “Yep. Makes for some nice scenery, though.”

  “You and Gabe make quite a pair,” Celie said.

  Hadley’s face lit up like a spotlight. “He’s great, isn’t he? I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

  Celie raised an eyebrow. “I’d say he’s the one who’s lucky.”

  “Maybe we both are. He’s so wonderful. Of course,” she gave Celie a sidelong look, “Jacob’s pretty wonderful too. He comes off all gruff when you first meet him, but there’s someone very special in there.”

  “I think you’re right,” Celie said, studying the two brothers as they talked.

  “Now if this were a Trask family gathering, you’d have one of the cousins pinning you into a corner and demanding to know your intentions.”

  Celie gave her an amused look. “And are you going to be the stand-in?”

  Hadley snorted. “Gad, no. First, I’ve been on the other end and I’d never do that to anyone. Second, I’m not part of the family.”

  It was Celie’s turn to snort as Gabe and Jacob walked back toward them. “I’d say that’s just a matter of time.”

  “What’s a matter of time?” Gabe asked.

  Celie smiled. “Ask Hadley.”

  “Like she’d ever break down and tell a secret. However, I will have a chance because, Ms. Manager, we’ve got to get to the Chamber of Commerce dinner. So make nice and say bye bye.”

  Hadley hugged Jacob and kissed Celie on the cheek. “I’d rather say ‘see you later.’”

  “And I’ll be waiting to say ‘I told you so’,” Celie whispered.

  When Hadley burst into laughter, both men stared. “What?” Celie blinked innocently. “Go to your mee
ting.”

  Jacob watched them walk off. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “Absolutely not. Girl talk.” Celie glanced around. “So, is our work here done?”

  “More than. You were something else today.”

  “That could be taken a number of ways.”

  “How about if I clarify?” he offered and swept her in for a lingering kiss.

  “Wow, um, okay, that works,” she said, taking a hasty look around the empty conservatory once he’d released her. “Maybe we should get going somewhere more private.” She threaded her arm through his.

  “Maybe we should.”

  They headed out of the conservatory. “So I was thinking, these parties would be a great way to sell things, if Gabe and Hadley are up for it. Bring a couple of cases of syrups and maple cream and stuff. I bet they’d go like hotcakes. We’d clean up. I mean, you would,” Celie hurried to amend.

  “Sure. I would.”

  “Well, maybe not you, you, but someone like you,” she clarified as they ambled slowly across the lobby.

  “Yeah.”

  “Or not someone like you. Probably someone different.”

  “No doubt.”

  “More chatty.”

  “I got it.”

  “And isn’t the door that way?”

  Jacob followed the line of her pointing finger. “Yup.”

  “So why aren’t we going out it? Aren’t we going home?”

  He led her past the front desk and down a wide hall. “Eventually. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving, actually. Those pickles don’t stay with you.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re here.” He stopped at the maître d’s stand at the wide doorway to the dining room. “Party of two for Trask,” he said.

  “Very good, sir.” The maître d’ picked up two menus. “Right this way.”

  “Good lord.” Celie clutched Jacob’s arm and goggled as they walked across the octagonal room with its pillars and picture windows. “Have you ever seen a place this beautiful?”

  And Jacob knew he’d guessed right yet again. He’d been there a number of times over the years and it still made an impact with its soaring arches, Victorian glass chandeliers and ornate plasterwork. The lines satisfied the builder in Jacob, the graceful ornamentation complementing without overwhelming. It was true to the original plan, right down to the string combo playing soft music in the corner.

  The maître d’ led them to a table by the window. Candles flickered, throwing reflections in the glass. Outside the window, lights shone out from the conservatory and the back galleries of the hotel. And Celie, he realized, was uncharacteristically quiet.

  He looked at her closely. “Are you all right?”

  In the soft lighting, her eyes looked enormous. “Of course I am…it’s…Jacob, this is beautiful.”

  “You like it?” Relief swept through him.

  “What are you, nuts? Of course I like it. I’d have to be crazy not to. But I—” She subsided as the waiter appeared to pour wine for them.

  “Compliments of the managers,” the waiter said and showed them what Gabe had told Jacob was the 1997 Wine of the Year.

  “Gabe offered champagne but I thought you might like this better.”

  “You thought right.”

  He raised his glass. “Happy late Valentine’s Day.”

  Celie laughed. “Is that what this is about?”

  “Partly. Valentine’s Day is the big date night and you spent it working with me instead of going out.”

  “I recall doing a few other things,” she said with a wicked smile and tapped her glass to his.

  Jacob drank and put his glass down, studying it intently. “I haven’t done enough for you,” he said abruptly. “I realized that today. The past year has been…all over the place. Everything’s changing and there’s a lot I’m juggling. I get busy and get thinking about the farm and sometimes I forget about the important stuff.” He hesitated and made eye contact with her for the first time. “I haven’t ever really said thank you. I’ve been a jerk that way. But I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done. All the work, how great you’ve been with my family—”

  “And your dog.”

  “And my dog,” he added with a smile. He toyed with the cork, studying it as though he’d never seen one before. “Things have been easier the last month and a half and that’s been because of you. And this isn’t much of a way of saying thank you, but it’s the best I could come up with.”

  She should say something, Celie thought, but she couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. How had he become so dear to her in such a short time? How had he come to feel like home? She didn’t have a home, it wasn’t a part of her life. And yet when she was with this man who was so deeply rooted in his world and his convictions, when she looked into his eyes, she could see herself getting rooted, too.

  She rose and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “That was one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me,” she told him as she sat back down.

  And something glowed in his eyes, something for her alone.

  “So let’s try another toast with this wonderful wine,” Celie said. “Here’s to you.”

  “Here’s to you,” he said.

  “Okay, here’s to you and to me.”

  The crystal of his glass rang against hers as he tapped them together. “Here’s to us.”

  “Oh, that was incredible,” Celie said lazily as they walked out of the restaurant. “I’ve never had such good food in my life. I feel like I could float home.” She stifled a yawn.

  “I can do better than that,” Jacob said, coming to a stop at the front desk. He nodded at the clerk. “My name’s Jacob Trask. I believe there’s something waiting for me?”

  The young, auburn-haired woman checked her file and her brows shot up. “Why, yes, sir, there is.” She brought out a key on a heavy brass disk and passed it across to him. “You’re in the Presidential Suite, on the top floor.” She handed him a room folio. “I know you’ll enjoy it. Have a lovely stay.”

  Celie stared. “We’re staying here?”

  He held out his arms to her. “Why not?”

  “You’re not missing a trick tonight, are you?” Celie asked as they turned to the elevator, next to the broad grand staircase with its gold-twined scarlet carpeting.

  Jacob shrugged. “I figure when in Rome…”

  “Do as the Romans do?”

  “Do as the Sybarites do and get a really great hotel room.”

  She laughed.

  She didn’t laugh when he unlocked the door to the suite and guided her inside. He didn’t turn on the light.

  He didn’t have to.

  Moonlight streamed into the octagonal room from every angle. All around them rose mountain and forest in a vast sweep of grandeur. In the room, graceful antique sofas sat grouped around polished tables. In the center, a curving staircase led to the upper floor.

  It felt like a dream, like something that wasn’t real because nothing could be as special as this night had been, or promised to be. But when she followed him up, the treads were solid under her feet and they stepped out into a room of pale moonlight, a rosewood bed with bands of sheer, white fabric streaming to either side of the half tester. There was no wind, yet somehow it felt like a summer night with the nearly transparent fabric at the windows moving in some magical breeze.

  Celie didn’t speak, feeling that to say a word would be to break the spell. Instead, in dreamy silence and moonlight, she turned to him. In dreamy silence and moonlight, they came together. With mouth and hand, they touched in the familiar ways and yet somehow it was new, as though they’d shed an extra layer of skin with their clothing, and lay now more naked with each other than they’d ever been.

  And he was beautiful in the pale wash of light, his face pure, his body strong, his hands gentle on her as he took her someplace they’d never quite been before. This time it wasn’t about frantic passion but about quiet
caresses that seemed all the more intense for the lack of flash. No roaring fire this time but a deep, powerful heat greater than any she’d known. And when he slid inside her, it was inevitable, overwhelming, as though they fused together in some elemental way. And when he caught his breath and tightened, she felt the climax flow into her body and carry her along.

  And she knew she’d found love.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Feet crunching in the snow, Celie walked around the maple, looking for the tell-tale holes. Nearby, the rest of her team worked their way through that day’s territory.

  Footsteps sounded behind her and she turned to see Dean Almeda, the burly gray-haired property owner. “How’s it going?” he asked. “You find anything?”

  He looked a little strained, she thought, like a man waiting for the results of a biopsy. “So far everything looks clean.” She was glad of the chance to pass on some good news. “We should be done here in an hour or so.”

  “Good. We need to start putting in taps. All right if we’re working while you’re here?”

  “As long as you stick with the areas we’ve already marked.”

  He gave a sharp nod and she watched while he stumped away. The real sugaring season was about to start. She couldn’t believe it was nearly spring. Somehow, when she hadn’t been noticing, January had slid into February, and February had become March. Meanwhile, she and her teams had somehow managed to work their way through nearly all the squares on the map back at the Institute. The project was approaching its end.

  It didn’t bring the usual satisfaction but a low-grade anxiety. Decisions loomed ahead of her, in a situation without choice.

  Her cell phone rang. “Celie Favreau.”

  “How much do you love me?”

  Celie frowned. “Is this Colin Farrell again? Because I’ve told you—”

  “It’s Pete, for chrissakes. How can you not recognize my voice?”

  The aggrieved tone brought a smile to her face. “Oh, maybe because we haven’t been housemates in over seven years?”

  “That’s no excuse. So? Don’t you want to know why I’m calling?”

  She felt a little stirring of nerves in her stomach. “Your horoscope today was really good and you want to read it to me?”