Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Dash stayed up all night writing and finally crashed around dawn. When he woke again, bright sunlight was burning around the edge of the curtains, and his watch said it was almost one p.m.
He threw off the blanket and stretched, yawning. The couch had turned out to be surprisingly comfortable, or maybe he was just too tired to care; either way, he felt refreshed and calm, all his anxiety and tension from the past few months had finally melted away.
A good night’s writing would do that to a guy. Almost better than a night with a good woman.
He pulled back the drapes and went to fix some coffee in the kitchen.
Outside the windows, the ground was blanketed in a thick sweep of snow, but the sky was clear blue and the pale sun was shining brightly.
The perfect winter’s day. He paused and watched a bundled-up figure trudge across the backyard to one of the cabins.
The sun glinted bright gold off the hair peeking out from under her knit cap.
Ellie.
Dash would be lying if he said he only had one reason for showing up on her doorstep.
He could have suffered through the cold, it wasn’t that bad, but the thought of the beautiful woman indoors was just too tempting.
He held out and focused on the writing for as long as he could, but visions of her kept slipping into his mind, driving him crazy.
He knew she’d pulled away and cut the kiss short, but for those moments she was in his arms, the heat between them had been explosive.
Intoxicating. And hanging out together last night, the chemistry was just as strong.
When she’d opened the door, looking so cute and guilty in those baggy plaid pajamas…
Snap out of it, a voice in Dash’s head mocked him. You’ve got swimsuit models on speed dial who could give Victoria’s Secret a run for their money in the lingerie department, and you’re getting hot and bothered over flannel?
He grabbed his stuff and went to take a shower in the bathroom down the hall. He’d remembered to pack some clean clothes and toiletries before he quit the cabin last night; now he stood under the steaming jets and tried not to think about the curves Ellie was hiding under that windbreaker.
She was an enigma, alright. Fire and ice, all wrapped up in one sexy package.
And the more he got to know her, the more intrigued he was.
She came off so sarcastic and sassy, but there was sweetness underneath the surface too—the way she cared about the people in town and was working hard to help out her parents.
It was refreshing, after some of the women he’d met in LA, who seemed so focused on their own careers or fame, they’d do whatever it took to get ahead.
Maybe Dash had started taking it for granted, that competitive edge, but being around Ellie made him wonder just when he’d started settling for dates who kept their phone on the table, checking it every five minutes, or who always had one eye on the door in case someone more famous walked in.
Ellie was something else. It felt so easy just talking to her, even when she was driving him crazy. Last night by the fire, it took all his self-control not to make another move—just lean her back against the wall and claim those lips again for another taste—
He turned the water cold in the shower to keep his body in check.
Damn chivalry. His mother may have been a thousand miles away, but she raised him right. And when a woman said something was a bad idea and it could never happen again, he had to respect that.
Except…
Dash remembered the way she’d looked at him, like she was holding back, too. There was something between them; she couldn’t deny it.
So what would it take to make her change her mind?
Dash dried off and got dressed, but as he headed back to the stairs, he passed Ellie’s open bedroom door.
He paused, but he couldn’t resist taking a glance inside.
It was a small room, quaint like the rest of the inn, decorated in shades of blue and cream.
There was barely any hint of her vibrant personality, except for one thing: on the far wall, she had postcards pinned in a neat grid, all the way to the ceiling.
He moved closer, taking in the bright cards: Australia, France, the UK…
They’d all been sent by guests over the years, after they’d returned back home.
Come visit, anytime!
Loved my stay—see you all next year.
There must have been a hundred or more, going back a dozen years. Ellie had kept them all and pinned them up, as inspiration maybe; part of that travel plan of hers she somehow never got started.
Like the character in his script.
Dash felt a flash of guilt, remembering what she’d said last night. She hated the idea of being captured in a movie or book; providing inspiration for a character was the last thing she wanted—but that was exactly what she had done.
Dash thought back over the pages that had flowed so easily from his fingertips—all of them inspired by her.
Once he knew the character driving his story, everything else had fallen into place.
She may not have been in every scene, but she was the catalyst alright.
And she would hate it if she ever found out.
Maybe not, he tried to reason. Once the movie was wrapped, with a big Hollywood star playing her role, she might not even recognize herself up there on screen.
He knew from experience that there were a million rewrites between a first draft and a final movie.
Who knew what he would wind up changing along the way?
He heard a noise downstairs: Ellie’s voice, talking to some of the guests. He quickly made for the stairs, leaving his laptop in the living room.
“The night owl wakes,” she greeted him when he stepped into the reception area. She was wearing an ugly green holiday sweater with a tree knitted on the front, and a familiar smirk on her gorgeous mouth. “Did anyone ever tell you that you snore?”
“I do not!” Dash protested.
“Like a freight train.” Ellie grinned. “I came in around eight and you were passed out, honking like crazy. You could have caused an avalanche.”
“Liar.” He wandered over. She had a plate of cookies on the desk, and he snaffled one. “Breakfast of champions.”
“You’re a little late for breakfast,” she said. “It’s almost time for afternoon tea.”
“Then I’ll have some of that, too.” His stomach let out an angry growl. “Want to come get some lunch?” he asked casually. “A girl can’t live on biscuits alone.”
She flushed. “Can’t. Working.”
“You can take a break though, I won’t tell.” Dash gave her his most charming grin, the one that got fussy actresses out of their trailers and tight-fisted studio execs to cough up extra filming budget, but Ellie was made of sterner stuff.
“We’re not all on vacation,” she said, her voice getting more clipped. “Some of us have to work for a living.”
Whoa. Where did that come from?
“I know,” he said slowly. “I just meant, I’d love your company.”
“Thanks, but I have a ton of stuff to do.” She avoided his eyes, her cheeks still flushed. “Maybe I’ll see you later. I don’t know.”
A couple of guests bustled in, interrupting them, and Ellie went to chat with them about the festivities.
Dash watched for a moment, confused by her sudden change in mood.
From flirting to ice-cold in five seconds flat.
But she was right, she was busy, and didn’t need him hanging around distracting her, so he grabbed one of the leaflets from the desk and checked out the local activity list for himself.
2pm Gingerbread House competition.
3pm Nog-off and cocoa.
4pm Sleigh rides.
He needed a break from his laptop, so it was time to get in the festive spirit, Sweetbriar Cove-style.
Two hours later, and Dash was full to the brim of holiday cheer—and hot cocoa.
He’d strolled Main Street, listened to carols, picked up some souvenirs for his family, and eaten his weight in gingerbread.
He was just about ready to catch a cab back to the inn and settle back down for another marathon writing session when he passed the local bakery and saw a familiar face in the cluster of people.
Ellie was inside, sipping a mug with a candy cane stuck out the top.
Her eyes were bright and she was laughing with some of the townspeople, her face lit up.
Beautiful.
He watched her for a moment, wondering what Hollywood actress he could ever find to capture her grace, her spirit. It would be impossible—she was one of a kind.
Ellie looked up and saw him. Her face changed; for a moment, she almost looked uncertain, then a slow smile spread across her face. She waved.
He headed inside.
“Hey,” she greeted him by the door. “How’s your day been?”
“Eventful.” He smiled. “This is quite some town you have here.”
“We like it.” Ellie paused a moment. Their eyes met, and Dash felt an unfamiliar pull—to reach for her, take her hand, anything to be closer. Touching her.
Dammit. What was with this woman?
He looked around. “So what’s on the menu here?”
“Eggnog,” Ellie declared, reaching for one of the mugs lining the countertop. “Here, have some.”
“Actually, I’m not really a fan of the stuff,” Dash admitted.
“Shh!” she hushed him, glancing around. “Don’t say that here. I’ve got twenty recipes to judge, and these people take their nog very seriously.”
He chuckled. “My lips are sealed.”
“Good.” She gave him a conspiratorial grin, dropping her voice. “To tell you the truth, I’m getting kind of sick of it too. But I’ve got another twelve left to taste.”
“Be brave, they’re counting on you.”
She sighed. “Once more unto the breach…”