Boiling status: When we boil tomorrow, we’ll break the old record for the latest boil. It feels odd to be still writing about freezing nights and sap runs. My eyes wander to the rhubarb and daylily shoots.
—Colton Abbott’s sugaring journal, April 22
Lucy was sick twice during the night. After the last time, at four a.m., she finally started to feel a tiny bit better. “I think it might be over,” she said to Colton after he returned from rinsing out the bowl he’d placed between them on the bed at some point. He wore only a pair of form-fitting black boxer briefs, and she watched his every move from the bed.
“How can you tell?”
“For the first time since this started, my stomach isn’t killing me, and I’m enjoying watching you walk around in your underwear. That has to be a good sign, right?”
His sexy smile lit up his eyes. “It’s a great sign.”
She tossed back the covers and swung her legs off the bed, blinking furiously when she saw stars.
“What’re you doing?”
“I need to pee and brush my teeth.”
He bounded around the bed, which was also fun to watch. Nobody bounded quite like Colton Abbott did. And those muscles . . . Damn, the man was hot. She saw more stars that couldn’t entirely be blamed on being sick. The sight of him mostly naked would make any red-blooded woman swoon. “Give me a second to get here to help you, would ya?”
“I can do it.” She started to push off the bed, felt the whole room begin to rotate and sat back down. “Maybe not.”
“Take it easy, honey, and let me help you.” With his arms around her, she stood and teetered against him until she got her bearings.
“Wow, this is nuts, huh?”
“It’s because you’re dehydrated. More sports drink after the bathroom.”
He stayed with her while she walked slowly to the bathroom. “I feel like I’m a hundred years old.”
“I’m sure you’ll be much better by this time tomorrow.”
“I hope so. I didn’t intend to spoil our entire weekend.”
“You haven’t. Not at all. I was thinking earlier that I’d rather be with you when you’re sick than any other perfectly healthy woman I know.”
“I think there might be a compliment in there somewhere,” she said, teasing even though she was deeply touched to hear him say something so sweet after the night he’d put in with her.
Laughing, he kissed the top of her head. “There’s definitely a compliment in there.”
“I can take it from here,” she said when they were in the bathroom.
“Are you sure? You don’t want to fall. That wouldn’t be good.”
“I’m sure. I’ll hold on.”
“Okay, call if you need me. I’ll be right outside.”
“Thanks.”
She tended to business and took extra minutes to brush her teeth, loving the taste of the toothpaste after the misery of the last few hours. Then she made the mistake of looking in the mirror and let out a scream that had Colton storming into the room.
“Jesus,” he said when he saw her standing upright. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I scared the hell out of myself.” She pointed to the mirror. “Look!” Her hair was a tangled mass of unruly curls after being slept on while wet, her eyes were big and bloodshot with dark purple circles under them and her face was so pasty white she looked half dead. “I’m like a creature from a horror movie.”
“You are not,” he said, shaking his head with amusement at her assessment.
“I look like the walking dead. Don’t try to sugarcoat it.”
He reached around her and picked up her brush from the counter. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to bed before you fall over.” He stayed right next to her as she shuffled to the bedroom and sat down gratefully on the bed. “Stay there for a second.” Standing in front of her, he brushed her hair gently, which made Lucy sigh with pleasure.
She tipped her head forward until it rested against his stomach. “Feels great. You’re good at this caretaker stuff.”
“Only when you’re the patient.”
Because he was amazing and because she was falling more in love with him with every minute she spent with him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on to him while he continued to brush her hair.
“Um, Luce?” he said after several minutes in which the only sound was that of the brush sliding through her hair.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t be alarmed or anything, but the close proximity and all . . .”
She drew back from him and saw he was fully erect, which made her giggle.
“Glad you find it funny,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Sorry,” she said, making an effort to control her laughter.
The playful scowl he directed her way only made her laugh harder.
“Yeah, you’re feeling better if you’re up for laughing at me.”
She let her hands slide down his back to cup his muscular ass and pulled him in closer to her.
“Lucy . . .”
When he was close enough, she kissed him through the tight cotton that was stretched over his erection, letting the heat of her mouth seep through the cloth.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, Lucy . . .”
“I don’t mean to be a tease. I’ll finish what I started tomorrow.”
A shudder went rippling through him, making her feel powerful and feminine despite the fact that she felt like death and looked even worse.
“You don’t have to. That’s not the only reason I’m here.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “You also came to mop up puke.”
“Get your cute butt into bed.”
She swung her legs onto the bed, and he pulled the covers up and over her. Then he sat on the edge of the mattress and held the bottle of sports drink for her while she took a couple of greedy sips. Her stomach gurgled noisily, which made him laugh and her cringe.
“I’m so gross.”
He leaned in to kiss her. “You are so cute, and I love you.”
Lucy stared at his gorgeous, sincere face, looking for indications he regretted saying those words, but saw no sign of regret. Rather, she saw indications of hope and pleasure and the possibility of incredible joy, if only she could find the courage to take what he offered so willingly. “You . . .”
“Love you. Yes. You heard me right.”
Lucy had never been more stunned or overwhelmed in her entire life. No one, other than her family and closest friends, had ever said those words to her.
Colton kissed her again, lingering for a minute, and then pulled away to get into the other side of the bed. He turned off the bedside lamp and reached out to her. “Come here.”
“That might not be wise. I think the puking is over, but I can’t be sure.”
He removed the bowl from between them and reached for her. “I’ll take my chances.”
Lucy curled up to him, resting her head on his chest. “Keep that close, just in case.”
He put his arms around her, making her feel safe and loved and wonderful, despite the awful night she’d had. “It’s right here on the table.”
“Colton?”
“What, honey?”
“I want you to know . . . I think I love you, too, but this whole thing is really scary to me. No, that’s not true.”
“It’s not scary?”
“No, it is. But I don’t think I love you. I know I do. If I hadn’t already loved you, I surely would after tonight.”
“It makes me really happy to hear you say you love me, and I want you to be happy about it, too.”
“I am. I’m so happy whenever I’m with you. It’s just when I’m not with you . . . That’s hard. Really hard and getting worse all the time.”
“I know what you mean. But I want you to have faith that somehow, some way, we’ll figure this out. Right now, in this very minute, I get to sleep with you in my arms, and that’s all I need.”
She ran her hand over the rippled muscles of his abdomen. “This is pretty damned amazing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“So let’s just enjoy the moment and try not to worry about what happens down the road. Can we do that?”
“I can certainly try.” She pressed a kiss to his chest and nuzzled the soft hair that tickled her nose. “You were incredible tonight. I’ll never forget it.”
“It’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me.”
“Well . . . um, I probably ought to mention at some point that I’m what’s commonly known as a sympathetic puker.”
“What in the name of hell does that mean?”
“You puke. I puke.”
“What?”
“You heard me right. The sound of puke, the smell of puke . . . That’s all it takes to make me puke. Just ask Emma about the time I had Simone when she was a baby and she came home to both of us puking, but only one of us was actually sick.”
“You are too funny, Lucy Mulvaney. I’ll remember that if or when I ever feel the need to puke, although I don’t think I’ve actually puked since I was fifteen and got drunk for the first time.”
“I’m great with the plain old flu. If you catch that, I’m your girl.”
“You’re my girl no matter what.” He kissed the top of her head and gave her a squeeze. “Now go to sleep so you can feel better tomorrow.”
“It’s already tomorrow.”
“Sleep, Lucy.”
She fell asleep with a huge smile on her face. He loved her. Colton Abbott actually loved her.
A loud noise outside woke Colton the next morning. He glanced at his watch and saw it was after ten. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d slept past seven. Yawning, he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced down at Lucy, who was still out cold, her head on his chest and her hand flat against his stomach.
He’d told her he loved her. Just blurted it out like it wasn’t the most important thing he’d ever said to anyone. Recalling the shocked look on her face made him smile. How could she be surprised that he was in love with her? After the blurt, he’d wondered if he’d regret saying it, but in the bright light of day, he hadn’t a single regret.
He was glad she knew how he felt about her and was relieved to know she felt the same way. Where they would go from here was anyone’s guess, but as he’d said to her during the night, nothing had to be decided immediately.
Moving carefully so he wouldn’t disturb her, Colton slid out of bed and pulled the covers over her, hoping she would sleep for a while yet.
In the bathroom, he took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and pulled on a worn pair of jeans that he left unbuttoned. After a quick check to ensure Lucy was still asleep, he went into the kitchen to make coffee. As he never had access to TV, he flipped it on to check what was going on in the world while he scrambled all twelve of the eggs he’d bought the night before and made toast with bread he found in Lucy’s cabinet.
Hopefully she’d feel up to eating something soft like eggs and toast.
The food was almost ready when the buzzer sounded, indicating someone was at the door downstairs. Recalling his lesson last night, Colton buzzed back, admitting the visitor. He hoped that was the right thing to do and was about to go grab a shirt when a knock on the door had him heading that way instead. Oh God, what if it was her father and he was answering the door half naked?
He peeked through the peephole and saw a blonde woman, so he disengaged the locks and opened the door to the woman and a tiny version of Lucy.
The woman looked him up and down, her gaze settling on his chest.
“Let me guess,” Colton said, leaning against the door and trying not to feel violated by the staring. “Simone and Emma.” He pointed as he spoke and deliberately mixed up their names, which made the little girl laugh.
“I’m Simone and she’s Emma, and we want to see Auntie Lu ’cuz she’s sick.”
He stepped aside to admit them. “Come on in.”
Emma carried a brown bag that she deposited on the kitchen counter as she took a look at what he was cooking and then went back to staring at him. She was smaller than Lucy, but they had clear blue eyes in common.
“Are you Auntie Lu’s secret boyfriend who’s not a secret anymore?” Simone asked.
He smiled down at her. How could he not? She was adorable—and precocious. “That’d be me. I’m Colton Abbott.”
Simone shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Where’s Lucy?” Emma asked.
“Still sleeping. She had a rough night.”
Emma’s brows furrowed with concern for her sister. “Is she okay? Should we take her to a doctor?”
“She’s much better than she was and insists she doesn’t need a doctor.”
“Typical Lucy,” Emma said. “I’d like to see her.”
Colton gestured for her to go ahead. Who was he to say it might be better to let her sleep? When Emma disappeared into the bedroom, Colton went to the kitchen to move the eggs around in the pan and refill his coffee mug. Then he moved to the sofa to join Simone, who had changed the channel to something animated.
She sent him a side-eyed glance. “You have a lot of muscles.”
“I work really hard at my job.”
“What’s your job?”
“I make maple syrup on a mountain in Vermont.”
She thought about that for a second. “Like the kind Mommy buys at the grocery store?”
“Probably not,” he said with a disdainful snort. “I make the good stuff, and if you give me your address, I’ll send you some. You’ll never want that grocery store crap again.”
“I do like presents.” She got up to find a piece of paper and a pen and labored over the writing of her name and address. When she was finished, she handed it to him.
“You got it, kiddo. I’ll send it to you when I get home next week.”
“Thanks.”
“So what’s your job?”
She gave him that disdainful look that all females did so naturally when men were stupid, which was often. “Duh, I don’t have a job. I’m eight.”
“Since when is that too young to have a job?”
“You’re silly. I go to school.”
“Oh right. I forgot about school. What grade are you going into? I’m guessing ninth or tenth.”
“Third!”
“Wow, I was way off.”
She looked at him as if she couldn’t decide if he was teasing or just dumb, which amused him greatly.
Emma returned with Lucy, who was wrapped up in a robe and moving slowly.
Colton jumped up when he saw her coming and went over to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “How’re you feeling, hon?”
“Weak as a kitten, but better than I was.”
“Auntie Lu, your boyfriend is silly.”
Lucy smiled at Simone. Although she was still frighteningly pale, she looked a lot better today, and he was relieved to see a spark of animation in her glorious eyes. “Believe me, honey,” she said. “I know he is.”
“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Colton said, earning another giggle from Simone. “I’m going to find a shirt.” To Simone, he said, “Don’t talk about me when I’m gone.”
“I’m going to.”
“You’d better not.”
Her laughter was deep and adorable, and he was completely taken in by the little girl who looked so much like the woman he loved. He couldn’t help but wonder what Lucy’s children might look like and decided right then and there that he very much wanted to find out.
Wow, he thought as he went into Lucy’s room in search of a shirt. What happened to not getting ahead of yourself?