Falling in Vermont (Cozy Nights in Vermont #2)

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

BLAKE

B lake and Star walked down his sloping field in the navy cover of night.

He’d taken some tools over that Mabel needed to borrow. He’d stayed chatting long enough to where Mabel insisted he stay for dinner. After a single beer, he’d poured his heart out, telling Mabel what had happened. She’d said she was proud of him but then had firmly kicked him out after dinner to go deal with his choices.

Blake chuckled as he shook his head, avoiding the gopher holes that were always on this side of the field between the two properties. He walked back through a thicket of pine trees on the well-worn path between Mabel’s farm and his, thankful for neighbors who would be here even after Sophia left.

“I always got my best friend, right, Star?” Blake said as Star glanced up happily, tongue lolling out.

And in the end, it’s fine, he thought. What’s important is that I know I can fall in love again.

I know I can recognize a good, kind person and feel something for them and picture moving on with my life.

Really, that was the biggest victory of all, he realized with a pop of laughter. He’d been working himself to the bone for the last three years to avoid the loneliness.

But what else was he supposed to have done? Soulmates didn’t appear out of thin air.

Until they did.

He’d write her a note if she wasn’t back yet. Uncle Alan had texted the group chat with a quippy little joke that Blake’s lady friend was working hard on the Clovely staff with Beverly, so he knew she was safe at least.

He’d tell her she could just forget about him ever saying anything. Just take it as an honest compliment and nothing more, and they could go back to being just roommates.

Less than two weeks would pass in a flash, and then he’d have a bittersweet memory to treasure after she left.

It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he’d take if that was all she wanted to give him back.

As he walked out through the thicket of pine trees and his farmhouse came into view, he was surprised to see her car in the driveway and the cozy lights of the kitchen glowing.

He’d lived alone for so long, it was odd to see somebody in his house when he wasn’t there. He had to face her sooner rather than later, but he gulped, feeling butterflies in his stomach, wanting to find any excuse to stay away longer.

He couldn’t be rejected if they never talked about it.

I should double-check the seedlings’ heat lamps are working. I’ll just do that until she’s asleep.

Star huffed by his side as if to say, “ Coward ,” but she had loped up to Sophia’s car and sniffed around with a tail that grew happier and happier.

Star ran to the back door, prancing, excited to go in. How was he going to explain to Star that Sophia had to leave in two weeks? Her new favorite person, making her favorite treats, would be gone.

Star whined, wanting to be let in.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“I guess I can’t escape.” He turned on his heel, willing himself to face his fate.

His heart felt like it had dislodged, and he was now carrying the shattered, jagged pieces in his hands. They clinked with each step he took going to the back door.

This is the last time I listen to Mabel.

Feeling like he was walking up to certain doom, he slowly opened the back door of the kitchen. Star bounded up the short stairs.

“There’s my Star girl!” Whines accompanying heavy foot tappies meant Star had found her second favorite person ever.

Shit, she’s here. Maybe I’ll just go back out to the barn.

“Are you coming in?” she called out to him.

With a resigned sigh, he walked up the stairs.

This is my house. I can go through the kitchen and up to my bedroom if I want. And go straight to bed and never talk to anybody ever again, especially not make eye contact with Sophia.

But Blake walked through the kitchen and found he was kidding himself; he couldn’t just glance—he needed to stop, take his fill of her.

He stared as he tried to understand what he was looking at.

“Why is there a pumpkin pie with a bunch of candles on it?”

“Well, this is as many candles as you had,” she said, wringing her hands, “and it’s not a pumpkin pie. It’s a new recipe. Oh shoot!” she said and clapped her hands. “Hold on.” She grabbed a bowl as she crumbled streusel-like bits around the top of the pie, and sprayed dots of whipped cream around the edge.

“I made a new recipe,” she said, crumbling it around, careful not to hit any of the candles in the center. “It’s a pumpkin caramel streusel pie. I, um, I call it, the boyfriend pie?” she said it as a question, staring at him nervously.

His heart leapt, but he wouldn’t get ahead of himself.

The boyfriend pie. Blood thundered in his ears at what it might mean.

She walked toward him, looking nervous. “Um, it’s a new recipe. Exclusive to this house. I am not putting it in a cookbook, or a post, or sharing it with anybody.” Her lip quivered as her eyes filled. “It’s just for you,” she whispered.

And just like that, all the jagged pieces of his heart melted into a puddle.

“Just for me?” he repeated, trying to understand what she was saying. He reached for her hand, pulling her toward him. He needed to hold her. Needed to wipe that tear off her cheek.

She nodded, sniffling. “It has pumpkins from your pumpkin patch, and the clove for, you know, Clovely. And you have this spicy scent to your aftershave and it makes me so happy,” she said, closing her eyes, looking nervous for some reason. “So I added nutmeg. And I know you said that the streusel topping was your favorite, and so I worked that in, and”—she swiped part of the whipped cream from the pie on her finger—“and whipped cream for…” She bit her lip and gave him a flirty look. “...well, reasons.”

A laugh rumbled out of him; he was completely overwhelmed.

“And, it’s just for you.”

Food was how she showed love; he knew this. But what did it all mean?

“The boyfriend pie is just for me?” he asked, trying to clarify.

“Yes,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m so glad you understand. I’ll grab some plates.” As she turned around, he grabbed her belt loop and hooked her back to him.

“For all the talking you do,” he said, pulling her toward him, “you don’t say very much.”

He crowded her against the kitchen island, and he took it as a good sign that she wasn’t bailing.

“Are you, Sophia Bertone, asking me to be your boyfriend?” He hoped it came off cool and flirtatious, not like she held every bit of his heart in her hands.

“I mean, obviously. Didn’t you hear me list?—”

He couldn’t wait any longer. He swooped down to catch her mouth. He savored his first taste of his girlfriend’s kiss. It was sweet and laced with spices, and her lips trembled as his thumb stroked her soft cheek. He pulled back, not fully accepting that this was real.

“I love you so much,” she whispered, her lip quivering.

An entire jolt shot through his system. “Soph, you don’t have to say that just because I did. I just wanted you to know.”

“I had to think about it, because I’ve been just doing one thing after another. Just focusing on getting things done. Getting my recipes done, figuring out my influencer work, and it was easy to push my feelings away. But I’ve been falling for you ever since you got me the good eggs for my cooking that first night.”

“Yeah?” He leaned down, needing to feel her skin against his lips. He kissed down her neck.

“You listened, and cared about what I thought. And you were vacuuming; that was a big plus.”

He rumbled out a laugh, squeezing her tight against him.

She held his face. “You’ve never once judged me. You accept me, and you’re so, so kind. You’re sexy, and smart, and I’ve felt more cared for in the last four weeks than I have in my entire life. You know how when a place is so big, you can’t see the edges of it? It just extends as far as the eye can see? That’s how…that’s how this feels. Overwhelming. I can’t conceive of a time and space where I don’t love you like this.” She put her hand over his heart. “I didn’t know I was in it until I was in the middle of it, and I never want to leave.”

He kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up so she wrapped her legs around his waist. He loved the feeling of her surrounding him, of her safe in his arms.

“So, you’ll stay?” His eyes searched hers, and she squeezed her arms around him.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” she said with wide eyes and a nervous voice.

“What if I sold the Viking?” he said with a smile, sitting her on the counter beside the boyfriend pie.

She narrowed her eyes. “I would throw it a funeral, but I’m still staying. It does not build me tables nor look good in flannel.” She picked up the pie and offered it to him to blow out.

He blew out the candles. “What if Star decided she’d had enough farm life and went to live a spoiled city life with Bev?”

“Then I’d insist on visiting Bev every day. But I’d still live here.”

He dipped a finger in the pie, sucking it off his finger. The creamy spice of the pumpkin was perfectly complemented by the sweetness of the caramel. “Jesus, this is so good. Are you sure you don’t want to share the recipe?” It was sinful heaven.

“Trust me, I don’t want anyone else knowing exactly how to eat the boyfriend pie. That’s half the food experience, serving something properly.” She pulled off her top, revealing a lace bra.

Whoa, this was unexpected. “What do you mean?”

A smile curved on her lips as she reached around, unhooking her bra as she stared at him. “Step one in serving the boyfriend pie—let the boyfriend pie cool to room temperature. So that step two”—she scooped up a small handful of it and smeared the creamy pie onto her nipples—“you can serve it on his favorite body part.”

His mouth salivated at her heavy teardrop tits that were ready to be licked. He dove down to suck and lick her nipple as the spice and flavor mixed with the taste of her skin. He greedily licked every drop off, feeling like an animal whose primal urge to consume and fuck had been ignited. He sucked her second nipple, holding her breast up to his mouth and sucking hard to get every drop off.

She pulled his head up to her lips as she grabbed for his belt, ripped it open, and reached for his cock. He fumbled with her jeans doing the same.

“More,” he groaned.

“Step three of serving boyfriend pie,” she said, biting her lip. “Ask if he wants whipped cream.” She ran whipped cream along his favorite curve between her belly and hip. He licked it off as his cock weeped, pushing down her panties to lick every part of her curves.

“Fuck, Soph.” He pushed down her jeans until they were on the floor. He needed to taste her, have her like he’d wanted to that first night. He licked down onto her clit as he pressed her thighs against his head.

He pushed down his boxers as he pumped his clean hand on his cock. He notched himself at her entrance, and as he slid in, he lifted her, her legs wrapping around him. He walked them slowly as she clenched around his cock, dripping onto it, until they were in front of the fire.

Slowly, lowering her down, he thrust into her as she arched off of the rug. “I love you, Soph,” he murmured into her throat as he licked there. “I love every”—he thrust into her as she arched higher—“single”— thrust —“part of you.” He worshiped her shoulders, showering them with kisses. Kissing down to her elbows, licking there. She clenched around him.

“Now I want you on top of me,” he said with a wicked grin.

He rolled them over so she straddled him, his favorite sight. “I love you, my bossy Blake,” she whispered, smiling, her hand coming to caress his face as she kissed him. “Especially when you boss your way into taking care of me.” She nipped at his throat, kissing down to his chest. “I’ll never stop trying to protect this heart.”

She rode him with open, vulnerable love in her eyes.

His hand caressed her cheek as she leaned into it. “My dream girl,” he whispered as she rode him harder and harder.

She leaned down as he bundled her against him, needing to press every part of his love into her. She kissed him, her lips never leaving his as they crested together, showing the other just how much they were loved.