Falling in Vermont (Cozy Nights in Vermont #2)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

BLAKE

B zzt, bzzt.

Bzzt, bzzt.

…

Bzzt, bzzt.

A repeated buzzing pulled at Blake’s mind as he rubbed his eyes. That’s a sound I should pay attention to , he thought groggily.

Bzzt, bzzt. Bzzt, bzzt.

Oh fuck, my phone. No one ever texted him after 8 p.m. and it was… He glanced at the clock: 3:47 a.m.

He scrambled for his nightstand.

SOPHIA

help

help

help help help!!

Wakeeee upppppp

Oh it’s Sophia.

But WAKE UPPPPP

He shot up in the bed, rubbing his eyes to get a better look at the blurry screen. He scrolled to the beginning of the messages.

SOPHIA

Loud sound in kitchen.

Think someone broke in.

Can’t get out. Don’t want to call 911 because they’ll hear me

Fuck.

He thundered down the stairs, jumping the last three and catching himself on the floor before falling. He dove for the slippers at the bottom of the kitchen door and threw them on, grabbing a baseball bat as he went.

He opened and closed his back door quietly, looking to see if anybody else was there. The cottage door was ajar, and his heart pummeled in his chest.

He ran to the back bedroom window. He’d call the police after he got her out safely.

He tapped on her window at his eye level. She clutched her hand to her heart.

She unlatched the window quietly. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t even recognize you,” she whispered.

Oh, right. He’d trimmed his beard last night.

For no reason in particular.

Okay, maybe one reason in particular, who was staring at him in an oversized sleep shirt that looked four sizes too big for her with a loose, sleepy ponytail on top of her head.

“Come on,” he whispered, wanting to get her to safety.

“What do you mean, ‘come on’?” she said, panicked. “Call the police,” she whispered through her teeth.

“I need to make sure you’re safe first. It’ll take them twenty minutes to get here. Sheriff Barnaby has three highballs before bed every night. It’ll take him ten minutes just to see if he’s sober enough to drive. Come on.” He waved to her, holding his arms up. “I’ll catch you.”

She peeked out the window and stared at the five-foot drop. “Are you sure there’s not a ladder somewhere?”

“Sophia,” he said, urgency in his voice. “I’ve got you. Come on.” He held out his arms to her, willing her to trust him.

* * *

SOPHIA

A crash sounded in the kitchen, and Sophia’s heart leapt into her throat.

A gorgeous man—even if he dropped her—was preferable to whoever was invading the kitchen.

“Shit. Okay.” She perched one ass cheek on the windowsill. It dug into her thighs as she slid her legs out the wide windowsill. “This always looks more romantic in movies.”

The chilly wind wrapped around her, and she wished she’d thought to throw on a sweatshirt before climbing out the window.

It was just a few feet, but when you weren’t used to jumping off anything , it might as well have been the Eiffel Tower.

“Here.” His arms wrapped around her thighs. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

He grabbed her thighs and slowly, slowly slid her down his body, until her breasts were against his bare chest. He held her there, close against him.

They caught each other’s eyes, breathing heavily from the panic.

His pecs were thick, beefy even, and gave way to a thick, muscular middle with padding around it. She wanted to bury her face into his chest. He held her firmly against him, snug and safe.

Her feet hadn’t hit the ground yet, and she wasn’t mad about it.

“You okay?” he whispered softly.

She swooned at his low voice. I think I left my stomach back in the room.

Her eyes caught on his newly shaved face. Sexy, short stubble blanketed his skin. The moonlight reflected off of the curves of his wide, muscular shoulders, and he looked like a certified, corn-fed snack.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said with a slow smile. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Maybe he’d stand here until morning so she wouldn’t have to leave the pillowy muscles that held her so safely.

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat and sliding her the rest of the way to the ground.

“Stay here,” he said. “Or go inside my house. I’m going to investigate.”

She balked. “Absolutely not.” She wasn’t standing in a dark, cold, foreign place.

“Yes, just stay here,” he said, shaking his head as if she was crazy. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt,” she said, raising her voice.

“Shh,” he whispered, putting a finger to his mouth as he crept underneath the windows, walking around the cottage. She scurried after him.

“How do I know they don’t have people in your farmhouse now?” she whisper-yelled.

“Star would have barked.” He put a hand out to keep her behind him as he peeked around the corner. “Come to think of it, Star hasn’t barked at all.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “She always alerts me when someone comes into the patch. Maybe it’s just an animal in the kitchen. Still though”—he double-checked the corner—“better careful than sorry.”

They crept toward the front door, following the thuds and crashing.

They leaned in, listening hard. There was definitely rattling. “It doesn’t sound like people,” Blake said, lifting his bat. “And there aren’t footsteps in the dirt. Stay back, okay?”

Sophia stood upright. “Like hell I will.”

Blake sighed with resignation and slowly creaked the door open. She peeked in behind him.

He flipped on the light beside the door and yelled, raising the bat above his head.

All that greeted them was an empty kitchen.

“Wait.” She pointed at the floor.

She’d left dough out overnight to rise, and there were suspicious tracks coming from the flour on the counter. They led to the pantry.

Rattling sounded inside of it.

She grabbed a large can of tomatoes on the counter.

“What are you gonna do? Lycopene them to death?” Blake asked.

“Better than let you handle them by yourself.”

He sighed but moved his arm so she stood behind him. It ignited something primal in her. Usually, she was the one charging ahead.

It was nice to be backup for once.

He yanked open the pantry door with a bat raised, and they both let out a primal scream.

Two raccoons with full bellies froze mid-chomp on her homemade granola bars.

Sophia let out a different scream, not expecting rodents in her pantry.

“Raccoons,” she screamed, shoving at Blake.

“Get the door,” he yelled as the raccoons scurried out.

“I don’t want them in my kitchen. Oh my God, or my underwear drawer!” she screamed as she scrambled for the door.

“We got a runner,” he yelled, darting through the living room after one.

She shooed one out, clapping at it, and it gave her a snide look, still clutching a granola bar.

Blake ran back, nearly knocking over a lamp. He and the raccoon took a hard turn out of the living room and through the kitchen.

The raccoon finally scampered out, and she slammed the door. Leaning against it with her full weight, she shoved at her hair.

Blake leaned over to catch his breath, the bat at his side. “How the hell”—he gasped—“did raccoons get into the pantry?”

She peeked into the walk-in pantry to examine the decimated shelves.

He poked his head in next to hers. “No holes,” he said, crouching down, looking under the bottom shelf.

“How could two fat raccoons escape my notice after I was in the kitchen all day?” She shoved her fingers through her hair. She couldn’t sleep tonight until she was sure they couldn’t come back. “Yesterday, I was happily baking, enjoying the fall weather?—”

Oh shit .

He raised an eyebrow at her.

She gasped. “Uh…I might have left the top half of the door open,” she said sheepishly. “I wanted to be cold, and the oven was so hot and the fireplace was going, so I left the top half of the door open. Just a smidgen. Y’know, to feel more like a Disney princess or…uh, something.”

A smile slowly curled onto his lips. “So you could feel like a Disney princess or something?”

“Or something,” she said with a small smile, waiting for his anger. She’d endangered his property by letting vermin run all over it. “I’m so sorry.”

“Maybe you could be like a Disney princess with the doors closed next time.” He stood, bat over his shoulder, sporting a sexy smirk.

Gone was the bushy beard hiding his handsome face. His round cheeks complemented his strong jaw, and she was dazzled.

“I’m so sorry. I bugged you awake and then made you haul me out of a window. Then you chased wildlife around my kitchen–er, your kitchen,” she corrected, “in the middle of the night.”

Her apologetic smile threatened to burst into a bubble of laughter as she remembered the nonchalant surprise of the raccoons. As if she’d crashed their poker game.

Her fingers went to her lips, trying to keep a laugh in.

“What?” A smile now blazed bright on his face as he saw her biting back laughter.

Holy hell. If he was handsome before, he was devastatingly gorgeous when he smiled at her like that.

“It’s just…the one on the left looked like Robert De Niro.”

“Oh my God, he totally did,” Blake said, realization dawning on him. Blake made a face with a downturned, disapproving frown, reminiscent of a certain famous actor.

She burst out laughing at the likeness, slapping his bare chest. “Exactly, but in raccoon form.”

Their eyes connected as they laughed at the absolutely ridiculous situation.

“It was no problem,” Blake said with a soft smile.

The sexiness of his dreamy eyes and beefy chest sizzled down to her toes, making a pit stop at her nipples.

Down, girls .

He shut the pantry. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything worse. Chasing raccoons in the middle of the night was the highlight of my day.”

“Really?” she said, fighting a yawn. “You’re not mad?”

“No.” He laughed and crossed his arms self-consciously. It only highlighted how sexy his arms were. He was muscular, probably from working on the farm, but there was a cushion of softness over the muscles that made her salivate. “It was probably the highlight of my whole fucking week, actually,” he said with an exhausted, sleepy shake of his head.

“Why?”

“Because I got to hold—” He stopped himself and cleared his throat, glancing at her eyes with a flash. “Uh, hold the culprits accountable,” he stuttered, squeezing his eyes together briefly. “I should go.”

He wrenched her front door open.

“Hey,” she called out.

He stopped on the doorstep.

A moment held between them, and she felt that flutter in her chest make its way up to her throat.

She wanted him.

And she was pretty sure he wanted her too.

Normally she’d just be blunt. Ask for what she wanted. Shout, “ Do you want to just bang it out already? ”

She didn’t do relationships, but she was excellent at just-banging-it-out.

Blake was far too sweet of a gentleman for her to say anything like that, though. She was blunt, but she wasn’t going to scare him half to death with her Sophia-ness.

“Thank you,” she said with a sleepy smile. His hazel eyes were full of warmth as he waved and shut the door.

Probably for the best.

If he knew what she really wanted, he’d never speak to her again.