Green Mountain Collection 1 by Marie Force (6)

Will appeared at Cameron’s door promptly at seven o’clock. With his coat unzipped, she could see that he’d worn a brown wool sweater over dark jeans with heavy mud-season-approved boots. He smelled of fresh air, soap and cologne so subtle she wasn’t sure it was cologne. No matter what it was, she wanted to get closer for a better sniff of the intriguing scent. His hair was damp and his face freshly shaven. That he’d gone to some trouble to prepare for their dinner pleased her.

“Looks nice on you,” he said of the Icelandic sweater she’d chosen to wear with faded jeans and her new boots.

“I’ll have a whole new wardrobe by the time I leave.”

“At least your trip won’t be a total loss.”

“True. Thank you for the sweater. It’s gorgeous, and I love the pajamas, too.”

“Glad you like them.”

“The mask really took the sting out of the bruises.”

“Good to know it works. Sometimes I wonder about the claims these products make.”

“You have to stop bringing me presents.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because.”

“Well, that clears it right up.”

Even though it was pointless, tossing her cell phone in her purse was pure habit. She grabbed her wireless hotspot, too, hoping to find a reliable signal somewhere in this town that she could tap into for work.

“Do you have a coat with actual sleeves?”

“No, just the vest.”

“It’s eighteen degrees out. You’re going to be cold in that.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just be in and out of the car, right?”

He stepped back to give her room to close and lock her door. “Yes, but around here you have to be prepared for trouble, like the kind you found last night. If I hadn’t come along when I did, you might’ve been in for a long, cold night out there with no heat, no phone and a coat with no sleeves. It’s still winter here, and it will be for a while yet. You gotta be thinking worst-case scenario.”

“As much as it pains me to tell you you’re right, you’re right. If it works out that I’m going to be here awhile longer, I’ll invest in some sleeves.”

“Good plan.”

They stepped into air that was, indeed, considerably colder than it had been earlier.

Will held the passenger door to his dark blue truck and waited for her to get settled before he went around to the driver’s side and immediately started the engine—and the heat.

“Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”

Cameron’s entire face heated with embarrassment as a flood of inappropriate replies filled her brain.

“Food,” he said, which only added to her embarrassment because he’d guessed that her mind had gone directly to dirty.

“Anything is fine. I’ll let you decide. There is one thing I’d love to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Go rescue my boots from the mud.”

“I got them on my way in this morning and dropped them at the dry cleaner. She said she can’t promise they’ll look as good as they did before the mud, but she’ll do what she can. Meant to tell you that earlier.”

Staggered, she couldn’t begin to think of what to say to that. His thoughtfulness was truly overwhelming and unexpected. “You … Oh. Thanks. That was really nice of you.”

He shrugged off her thanks. “I felt bad that they got ruined. You seemed upset about it.”

“I love those boots—and the car. I got them both right before I left the city, and neither of them survived the trip, which is a metaphor for my luck lately. It’s nice of you to try to save them.”

“It was nothing. So how about pizza? We’ve got a place in town that makes wood-fired pies that are to die for.” He paused, glanced at her and then at the windshield. “What am I thinking? You have world-class pizza in the city that probably puts ours to shame.”

“Wood-fired pizza actually sounds really good. I’m sure it’s amazing.”

“I like it.”

“Then I’m sure I will, too. It’s just …”

“What?”

“I feel kind of weird being seen with my face looking like this. People are talking about me and Fred, and … It’s weird. I feel like everyone is staring at me and pointing. Reminds me of when I had chicken pox in high school and had red spots on my face for a month.”

“Do you like dogs?”

She looked over at him, surprised by the question that had nothing to do with what they’d been talking about. “I love dogs.”

“We’ll get the pizza to go.”

“To go where?”

“My place.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

Cameron’s heart began to beat faster, and her mouth was suddenly dry. “Um, sure. That’s fine.”

“Now what do you like on your pizza?”

Half an hour later, Cameron held the pizza on her lap as Will turned the truck off the road where her car had met up with Fred and onto a rutted dirt road. Remembering her Texas Chainsaw Massacre fears from the night before, she tried to keep the pizza box still as the truck dipped into the potholes on the road.

“Sorry about the bumpy ride. Happens this time every year when the snow starts to melt.”

Cameron tightened her teeth to keep them from clanking together. “No problem.” As the road got darker and bumpier, her anxiety began to spike. Being out here in the middle of nowhere alone with a man she’d met yesterday, when no one else knew where she was, went against everything she believed in as a safety-first city girl. “You don’t own a chain saw do you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Why?”

“No reason.” She tightened her grip on the pizza box. What’s your plan, hotshot? Throw hot cheese at him and run for your life?

“You’ve got one hell of an imagination, you know that?” he asked, chuckling.

“A girl can’t be too safety conscious.”

“If and when I get a girl alone in the woods, my first thought isn’t about chopping her up with a chain saw.”

“That’s comforting. Thank you.” Once again, Cameron felt warm all over in his presence, and that couldn’t be blamed solely on the piping hot pie. She refused to consider what he might do when he got a girl alone in the woods, as she was now a girl alone in the woods with him and tingling with curiosity.

“You’re perfectly safe with me. I promise.”

She knew he meant physically safe, but that wasn’t the kind of safety she was suddenly concerned about. At the moment, she was far more concerned about his intensely magnetic appeal and how she’d manage to keep her mind on business while alone with him in the wilderness.

“How can you stand living so far from civilization?”

“It’s not that far. Only about five miles.”

“Don’t you get bored?”

“Never. There’s always something to do.”

“Like what?”

“The dogs and I take long hikes on the trails. I like to fly-fish in the river. Snowshoeing, snowmobiling, skiing, snow-boarding. The fun never ends.”

“So you’re very outdoorsy.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“I’m sort of indoorsy.”

“No. Really?”

“I don’t like to be cold.”

“And yet you come to Vermont in March with a coat that has no sleeves.”

“I’ve already conceded that point to you.”

He drove the truck around a bend in the road and into a clearing where the headlights revealed a log cabin nestled among a grove of evergreens.

“Oh, Will, it’s beautiful.” Cameron had never seen a more picturesque location for a home.

“Thanks. You can’t get this downtown anywhere.” He shut off the truck. “Stay there. I’ll come get you.”

In the thirty seconds it took him to come around to the passenger side of the truck, Cameron had just enough time to give herself a sound talking-to about what was riding on this evening. The very survival of her company was at stake, and it would do her well to remember that.

He opened the door, took the pizza and offered her his arm. “There’s some ice on the way in so you might want to hang on.”

A smattering of snowflakes floated around them, sticking to her eyelashes as she got out of the truck and took his proffered arm.

“It wasn’t supposed to snow until much later,” he said, casting a glance at a sky filled with puffy clouds.

“I hadn’t heard we were supposed to get snow.”

“They said six to eight inches, but you never know how much we’ll actually get.”

“You say six to eight inches like it’s no big deal. That would be a major event in the city.”

“Just another winter day in Vermont.”

Cameron curled her hand through the crook of his elbow, encountering muscles that made her want to explore far beyond the bicep that flexed against her fingers as they walked toward his front door. Moonbeams sneaking through the clouds made the icy pathway glisten and sparkle.

“I feel like Dorothy on the yellow brick road.”

“Click your heels together, and you might wake up in the city.”

“Oh thank God I didn’t have to explain that one to you.”

“I’m not a complete bumpkin.” He helped her onto the porch. “Watch out for the pups when we open the door. They’re extremely friendly—almost too much so.”

“What’re their names?”

“Trevor and Tanner. Ready?”

“I guess so.”

“Hey, boys,” he said when he opened the door. “This is Cameron. Be nice.”

Sure enough, the two dogs circled around their legs in a frenzy of excitement.

Will held the pizza aloft and carried it straight to the kitchen in the back of the cozy house, with the dogs hot on his heels.

“This is wonderful, Will.” Cameron took a look around at the overstuffed sofas gathered around a stone fireplace. A red plaid throw blanket was tossed over the back of one sofa, and a down comforter hung over the other one.

He returned to the living room, shooed the dogs outside and lit the fire. “It’s not much—this combined kitchen-living room, a bedroom and a bathroom, but I love it.”

“I can see why. It’s comfy and cozy.”

He gave her an odd look that had her wondering if she’d said the wrong thing about his home. “I’m glad you like it. Drink? I’ve got beer, wine, soda, water.”

“What kind of beer?”

“Sam Adams light.”

“That sounds good.”

“Coming right up.” He opened two bottles and put them on the counter and then went to let the dogs back in. “Come have a seat. It’s safer to eat up here where they can’t get to the pizza.”

“They’re so cute.” Cameron bent to pet and kiss both dogs, who responded with wet, sloppy kisses for her.

“They’re holy terrors, but I love them. George is their mother.”

“Wait … George is a girl?”

“What can I say?” he asked with a sheepish grin. “I told you my dad was nuts over the Beatles.”

Laughing, Cameron said, “I liked your dad. He seemed very sweet. I also appreciated what he said about sustaining the business into the future. It sounds like he’s really concerned about making sure you’re well positioned going forward.”

Will dished up the pizza on plain white stoneware plates and used paper towels for napkins. “He is. I know it weighs on him that the business might not survive into the future, but I don’t feel like we’ve got anything to worry about. We’re selling something people will always want. Like you said at the meeting, it’s about home and hearth and comfort and health. A lot of what we make here in Vermont can’t be found anywhere else.” He shrugged. “I have faith in that.”

“This pizza made in Vermont is amazing.” They’d discovered a mutual affection for chicken and artichoke toppings. “Some of the best I’ve ever had.”

“You don’t have to say that,” he said with a grin.

“I don’t toss around compliments unless I mean them.”

He studied her over his beer bottle, and Cameron had to fight the urge to squirm. “So no hard sell on how we need the website to tell the rest of the world how special Vermont is?”

“I’m not very good at the hard sell,” Cameron said, frowning. “It’s one of my failings as a businessperson. Lucy is after me all the time to go for the jugular, but I figure people know what they need—and what they don’t need—for their own businesses. I don’t believe in shoving technology down people’s throats. They either want it or they don’t.”

“You’re better at it than you think. I went into that meeting this morning thinking ‘no way’ and came out thinking ‘maybe.’”

Cameron ventured a look at him and found him watching for her reaction. Her gaze met his and held for a long, breathless moment. Stick to business, she reminded herself. Being attracted to this man was a recipe for disaster. Nothing could come of it, so why venture down that bumpy road?

“Tell me how you’d go about it,” Will said, snapping her out of her internal monologue.

“The website?”

He nodded and took a swig of his beer.

“I was thinking about that this afternoon. I’d start with two primary components—the story of the family behind the store, beginning with your grandfather if he’s willing to share his story.”

“He loves to talk about the store and the old days, so you’d have a willing participant in him. That’s one component. What’s the other?”

“Vermont Made—the thing that makes you special.” She’d meant to say the thing that makes the store and the state special, but the words came out before she could edit herself. Cameron cleared her throat and tamped down the buzz of nerves he caused by just sitting across the narrow counter and enjoying a pizza with her. “Once we complete those two components, we expand into other areas, such as Hannah’s jewelry, Colton’s maple syrup, Landon’s furniture and Lucas’s Christmas trees.”

He seemed to be considering what she’d said as he put another slice on each of their plates.

“To you, it’s a routine part of life that you and your nine siblings are working together to run this incredible business. But believe me when I tell you that families like yours don’t come along every day, and people will be fascinated by your story.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. You talked earlier about selling that which is unique to Vermont. We’d also be selling that which is uniquely Abbott, everything from the family businesses to the family itself. There’s so much opportunity here. I’m sure the price tag was a bit of a shock, but a site like this would require all sorts of customized modules and professional photography and well … It’d be a big job, the biggest job we’ve ever done, if I’m being truthful.”

“Tell me about your company. How’d you end up in the web design business?”

Relieved that he hadn’t honed in on her confession about the job being their biggest project to date, Cameron tucked her hair behind her ear. “If I tell you that, you might think I’m the worst possible person to design your site.”

His brows knitted, adorably, of course. “Why do you say that?”

“I had a lot of challenges with school. I have severe ADD. You know what that is, right?”

Nodding, he said, “Attention deficit disorder. Colton has it, too. My mom swears the meds he started taking in sixth grade are the only reason he graduated from high school.”

“Colton was lucky that someone noticed his problem early on and did something about it.”

“That didn’t happen for you?”

Cameron shook her head. “I think my dad just thought I was dumb. I used to dread report card time because my grades sucked, and we’d have the same conversation every time about how I had to try harder. My teachers suggested I be checked for learning disabilities, but he didn’t want to hear there was anything wrong with me.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Anyhow, I somehow managed to graduate from high school, and the first thing I did was get myself diagnosed and onto meds that helped—a lot.”

All of a sudden, Cameron realized she was sharing something with him that very few people outside her close circle of friends knew about her. “Why am I telling you this? See what I mean about being a lousy businessperson? Just what you need is to hire someone who won’t be able to focus on your job.” Her stomach turned and she pushed the pizza away, no longer interested.

“I have to believe you’ve overcome the challenges if you’ve managed to run your own business all this time.”

It was a daily struggle, not that she’d tell him that when she’d already overshared.

“You still haven’t told me how you got into web design.”

Sighing, Cameron realized that with the genie out of the bottle, she might as well finish the story, even if it cost her any chance of getting the job. “I took a Photoshop class at a community college after high school. It was the first class I took post-meds, and I got an A. I was so damned proud of that A.”

“I bet you were. It was validation.”

“Yes, it was,” she said, pleased that he understood. “After that, I became a bit of a whore for As.”

That made him laugh, as she’d hoped it would.

“Graphic design came next, then illustration and new media and web design and other art classes. I got As in every single class.”

“What did your dad say?”

“I never told him.”

“Why not? I would’ve photocopied my report cards and mailed them to my dad.”

She ventured another glance his way. “Do you know who my dad is?”

“Everyone knows who Patrick Murphy is. He owns half of New York City.”

“He doesn’t exactly read his own mail. Besides, it was easier to let him think I was a loser than to raise his expectations.”

“Is it okay to say that I don’t like him very much hearing all this?”

“You wouldn’t be the first friend of mine to say that. He did the best he could after my mom died and left him to raise a baby he had no idea what to do with. He’s not a bad guy, and despite his many failings, I love him desperately. But he’s no Heathcliff Huxtable. That’s for sure.”

“Help me out …”

Cameron shook her head as she laughed at his perplexed expression. “Bill Cosby’s character on The Cosby Show. One of my favorite families ever. The parents were a doctor and a lawyer, and they both worked from home so they could be there for their kids anytime the kids needed advice or money or a ride or a shoulder to lean on. What that must be like.”

She shook off the melancholy to finish the story. “Anyway, I met Lucy in a photography class, and we discovered we had the ADD in common. We sort of bonded over that, and then we got a big idea about starting our own company, which should have been a disaster with two ADD partners running it. But we’ve made a go of it. Somehow.”

“Your dad must’ve come in handy when you were starting the business.”

“Not so much. I’ve never asked him for anything. I’m very proud of the fact that we started the company all on our own. We’ve gone from me and Luce in a freezing cold loft in Greenwich Village, to an actual office with seven employees—in seven years’ time.”

“That’s amazing. Truly. I can’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been to start a business of your own in that city. I know how difficult it is to run a business I walked right into just by being born.”

Warmed by his praise, Cameron reached for her beer. “Thanks.” She took a sip and tried to focus on anything other than the unwavering golden-eyed gaze he had directed on her. “We’ve had our ups and downs, especially during the recession, but we’ve battled through. For the most part.”

“Do you need this job, Cameron?”

His insight further unsettled her, but she was determined not to show him that. “I will neither confirm nor deny that. The last thing I want is for you to feel obligated to give me the business. Either you want the website for the store or you don’t. How it affects me should be of no concern to you whatsoever. Twenty-four hours ago, you didn’t even know I existed, so you shouldn’t be making six-figure decisions based on anything other than what’s best for your business.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be so bossy.”

“Twenty-four hours ago my life was a whole heck of a lot less interesting than it’s been since poor Fred crossed your path.”

Cameron stared at him, trying to get her head around what he meant by that. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Definitely not. You intrigue me, Cameron Murphy. Not just because of your ideas for our business, but for other reasons, too.”

“What other reasons?”

He propped his chin on his upturned hand and did that thing with his eyes, the thing that made her insides go all crazy. “I like the way you rolled with what happened last night, despite how upsetting it had to be for you. I like the way you showed up for the meeting this morning, battered and bruised, when a lot of people—okay, I mean women—would’ve postponed because they’d be worried about how they looked.”

Cameron had been worried about how she looked, and she’d considered postponing, but she didn’t tell him that because she didn’t want to stop him when he was on a roll.

“I like the nice things you say about my family and the way you responded to the store, when you’re certainly used to far more sophisticated retail outfits. I like the way you appreciate what makes Vermont special even though everything about it is foreign to you. And I think you’re really pretty.”

She’d been floating along on a nice wave of compliments until that last one fizzled her brain cells. “You … You do? Even looking like this?”

He got up slowly, yet purposefully, and came around to her side of the counter.

Cameron’s breath got caught in her throat as he came closer, reaching out to tip up her chin with the gentle brush of his index finger. That single bit of contact started a riot inside her as she fought the overwhelming urge to lean in to get closer to him.

“Even looking like that.” He looked down at her for a long time before he let his hand drop down to his side. One of the dogs was right there to take advantage of the opportunity for a scratch.

The dog let out a low moan of pleasure that Cameron could relate to. Right about now, she’d love a scratch behind the ears from Will Abbott. Christ alive, she’d wanted him to kiss her and was disappointed that he hadn’t. The realization landed with a heavy thud in her belly, reminding her that this was about business—and it could be only about business.

She’d known him for one full day, and she already knew he had the power to rock her world like no guy ever had before. Never in her life had she experienced such a physical response to a man, the kind of response that had her picturing all sorts of naughty scenarios that had no place in a business-only relationship.

The line between personal and professional had already been crossed when she shared her challenges in school as well as her relationship issues with her dad. She shouldn’t have told him all that, especially when she was trying to convince him to hire her company. Lucy was right—she sucked big-time at the hard sell. Heck, she sucked at the soft sell, too.

A pounding knock on the door drew her out of her musings.

“Who is here at this hour?” Will muttered as he strolled past her with the dogs hot on his heels. He threw open the door, and a young man pushed past him into the living room. Tall and lanky, he had blond hair that was wet from the snow.

“I’m so glad you’re home. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t say it. If I say it, it’s real.”

“Max, you’re freaking me out. Whatever it is, just tell me, and we’ll figure it out.”

Ahhh, the youngest Abbott, Cameron thought as she watched Max pace the small room, completely oblivious to the fact that his older brother had a guest. She wondered if she should make a sound so he’d know she was there, but she was hesitant to interrupt such an intense exchange. So she kept quiet and hoped Will would tell his brother she was there before this went too much further.

“Chloe is pregnant.”

Oh shit, Cameron thought as Will finally glanced at her.