When Dash stepped out, the air was warm from the late-afternoon sun, but not hot. His phone vibrated with a new message.
@craftycindy Don’t leave me hanging
He quickly typed back, Rain check, then pocketed his phone.
Brittany led them toward a small cottage just off to the left. But when she opened the door, Dash realized, maybe at the same time as Sophie, that this was a studio with one bed.
“Is there another room?” he asked, but the only additional doors he saw led to a bathroom and another into a closet.
“Another room?” Brittany asked. “Aren’t you two together?”
“No,” they both answered at the same time. Dash looked at Sophie and she looked back, her face paler than usual. Now that he had a real crush on Sophie, the idea of being in a bed with her was…well, a bit daunting.
“Oh.” Brittany glanced between them with a frown. “Well, we don’t really have any other space. Our main house is just our room and the baby room.”
“Right.” Dash took in a deep and resigned breath, then looked to Sophie.
“Only one bed,” she said, each word sounding like its own sentence. “Well, isn’t that something.”
The sunflower-yellow burst around her irises seemed to flare gold back at him, and he cocked his head, wondering what the hell she was thinking at that exact moment.
11
SOPHIE
One bed. They only had one bed that they would have to share?! This was absolutely impossible. Sophie never believed the only one bed trope could happen in real life—it was a fantasy, a series of ridiculous events that would lead the main characters to share a bed, forcing them together even if they didn’t want to be.
And this was also the exact moment she’d figured out she had a real crush on Dash? If things were happening for a reason, then she could not imagine what lesson the universe was attempting to teach her.
Do not covet thy best friend’s brother.
Remember to only find people attractive who are available.
You shall not have sex with Dash.
The real problem was that those damn butterflies immediately responded as soon as they’d heard she’d be sleeping next to Dash, fluttering up like loose pages in the breeze. Because if she was in a bed with him, she might get close enough to study the tattoos that wrapped around his arms and dipped underneath his boxers…
Sophie pinched her shoulder blades together, trying to be present, but when she looked up, Dash’s eyes were glued to hers, and a little shiver passed through her from all his undivided attention.
“There are towels, spare toothbrushes, shampoo, and soap in the bathroom, too, if you want to freshen up.” Brittany walked toward the bathroom and flipped the light on inside. “I’m going to see if Ned and I have some spare clothes you can wear for the night.”
Sophie nodded as Brittany left the bungalow. And then they were alone, with nothing but silence as they both seemed to avoid moving altogether. She looked over at Dash, but he watched the door. He sucked in his bottom lip as his brows knit together, and she realized this might just be a little too much for him.
“Is this okay?” Sophie took a step forward but stopped herself. The space was cozy and intimate, and they were already practically on top of each other. Well, now she had that image in her head to navigate. “We don’t have to stay here. I’m sure we could get a ride to a hotel outside of Ojai.”
“Yeah, I…” But Dash stopped himself, then looked at her. “Sophie, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t really get out much.”
And she laughed, because him making a joke about the situation felt better than him running as fast as possible.
“I guess I’m a little on edge from all of the surprises.” He wiped a hand over his face.
He did look exhausted. They’d spent most of the day traveling, and she knew how much Dash loved his car and was probably worried about it the way one might fret over a sick child.
“What if I let you chill in the room alone for a while?” Sophie was an introvert with extroverted tendencies. She needed to recharge her batteries after spending too much time with other people, too. She understood where Dash was coming from. He could take the room, and she could go for a walk.
“I’m not overwhelmed by you,” he clarified. And something about the way his gaze lingered on her, as if to reassure her, made her breath catch.
I’m not overwhelmed by you, the words repeated in her head. His tone had been firm, like he needed her to understand his intentions. But what were those, exactly?
“Okay.” She licked her lips and tried to shake the confusion from her thoughts. “Want to catch the Pink Moment?”
His gaze searched the space, as if looking for her reference. “The Pink Moment?”
Sophie and Dash made their way across the yard and toward the edge of the property line, where a field of gnarled grapevines sat in the shadow of the looming mountains. The sun was just beginning to set, casting the rocky mountainsides in a shade of dusty pink. The light warmed every inch around them, and Sophie’s mouth opened as she took the view in. She hadn’t seen an Ojai sunset—the Pink Moment—in years, and she turned to tell Dash as much, but he was already looking at her. He quickly blinked and turned back before she could say anything. She lingered on him for a few moments—at the dimple in his chin and the small, perfectly round mole centered on his cheekbone. She studied the semivisible tattoo on his left bicep—a longhorn skull with the horns pointed forward—but forced herself to look away and back to the setting sun.
Even though she was focused on the mountains, she was close enough to smell the overwhelming wet-earth scent of Dash. And as he took a deep breath in, then out, she noticed the rhythm of his breaths. What would it be like to be wrapped up in his arms, pressed against that chest and feel the rise and fall of him as they breathed together?
“There it goes,” Dash said.
Sophie followed his gaze to the mountains where the sun had finally dipped behind the rocky crest and the sky was being swallowed by charcoal light.
“Hey.” Ned’s voice cut through the air. Sophie turned as he approached with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Sorry I came in hot at the bookstore.”
Brittany emerged from their house with another wineglass and called out to them, “I told Ned that bringing your old Valentine was weird. Who does that? Petty people, that’s who.”
“She did tell me that.” Ned rolled his eyes, then handed Sophie a glass and extended one to Dash.
“I’m good.” Dash shook his head no.
“You sure?” Ned tilted the bottle. “I’m a sommelier, and this is a special bottle. It’s twenty years old and aged beautifully.”
“Even I’m going to have a little sip.” Brittany’s head tilted slightly.
“I’m good, thanks,” Dash said coolly. Sophie couldn’t help but notice how his entire body had gone rigid, so different from when they watched the sunset.
Ned poured wine into Sophie’s glass, then his own. They sipped and looked out toward the mountains. Eventually, Ned said, “So you’re a writer, too?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that.” Dash’s hands went into his pockets. He rocked back on his heels. “I used to be an actor, but now… I don’t have a steady job yet. I do a lot of gardening and some crafting.”