Pining for You: Beneath the Maple Sky

Helen

I came to Vermont for a story, not a man.

After everything fell apart in Boston, a sugar shack in the middle of nowhere sounded like exactly the kind of quiet I needed.

I didn’t expect Theo Marsden.

Brooding, bearded, and built like he could chop a tree with one hand, he’s the kind of man who speaks in silences and stares like he already knows what you’re running from.

I’m not here for romance. Definitely not for the man who looks at syrup like it’s sacred.

So why can’t I stop thinking about what it felt like to fall apart in his arms?

Theo

She showed up in stilettos and attitude, thinking she could survive sugaring season without getting her hands dirty.

Helen Avery is all wrong for this place.

She’s sharp-tongued, fast-paced, and way too beautiful for a life built on patience and fire.

But every time she storms into my shack, I want to taste what’s beneath all that polish.

She says she’s here to write about maple syrup.

But the real story?

It’s what we’re becoming when neither of us is looking.