5. Sophie
Chapter five
Sophie
“ C ome on, Sophie, there must be someone special in your life,” Aunt Carol prodded, her eyes twinkling with the kind of mischief that only comes from years of matchmaking within the family. We were standing outside in the gentle sunshine of a late June day in the back yard where Madi’s bridal shower was being held.
I forced a smile, balancing a plate of finger sandwiches in one hand and my patience in the other. “Just my laptop and a looming deadline, Aunt Carol. That’s about as exciting as it gets these days.”
She clucked her tongue, clearly not satisfied with my evasion. “A pretty girl like you? Nonsense. Are all the single, young men in New York blind? And what about Ben, right here in Finch Valley? My neighbor saw the two of you in Grumpy’s not too long ago.”
I felt a flush creep up my neck, the mention of Ben stirring a whirlpool of emotions I wasn’t ready to delve into, especially not here and not now. I explained how I had gone there with Madi and ended up with Ben, hoping that would put an end to the discussion.
Before Aunt Carol could launch into another well-meaning interrogation, Cousin Linda swooped up, her two toddlers in tow, effectively changing the subject. “Sophie, can you believe how big these two have gotten? Seems like just yesterday we were in high school, and now look at us!”
I smiled, genuinely this time, grateful for the distraction. “They’re adorable, Linda. Time really does fly.”
As the afternoon wore on, similar conversations played out with various relatives and old classmates, each encounter a delicate dance of deflecting questions and changing subjects. The undercurrent of curiosity about my personal life was relentless, bringing a steady stream of inquiries that felt more invasive with each passing moment.
It wasn’t until I found myself cornered by Mrs. Jenkins, my high school English teacher and the town’s unofficial gossip queen, that I felt my resolve start to crumble. “Sophie Wright! Congratulations on the book. It was very well written; I’m proud of you,” she began. Then her eyes sharpened as she followed that up with, “On a personal note, are you still breaking hearts and taking names?”
I laughed, a bit too loudly. “Hardly, Mrs. Jenkins. Just trying to meet my next deadline.”
“And what about after that deadline? Anyone special waiting to whisk you away for a well-deserved break?” she pressed, clearly not one to be deterred by vague responses.
I was saved by Madi, who appeared at my side, a knowing look in her eye. “Mrs. Jenkins, have you tried the quiche? I think they just brought out a fresh batch. I’ll grab you a plate.”
Gratefully seizing the opportunity to escape, I followed Madi back into the house, the errand in the kitchen offering a little break from the prying eyes and questions.
“Thanks for the rescue,” I murmured, pouring myself a glass of water from a pitcher on the counter.
Madi leaned against the counter, her expression softening. “I heard them, you know. The aunts, the old classmates. It’s like they’ve got nothing better to do than speculate about your love life.”
I took a sip of water, its coolness doing little to soothe the frustration simmering beneath the surface. “It’s like they think I’m incomplete or something, just because I’m not married with kids.”
Madi reached out, squeezing my hand. “Hey, don’t let them get to you. This is about my wedding, not your love life. Besides, you’re doing amazing things, Soph. They just don’t get it.”
Her words, meant to comfort, managed to take the edge off my irritation. “I know, it’s just...overwhelming, you know? Feels like I’m the odd one out.”
Madi smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re the most interesting person here. And who knows? Maybe there’s a chapter in one of your future bestsellers sitting right here in this room.”
We shared a laugh, the tension easing as we prepared to rejoin the party. Madi was right; this was her day, her moment. My personal life—or lack thereof—was just a side note, a fleeting topic of conversation for those looking for something to talk about.
I waited until all the gifts had been opened and then drifted away from the shower to go for a walk. I needed a little alone time, and the party was almost over anyway, so I didn’t expect anyone to miss me. There was a dense forest nearby with lots of trails—one of my favorite places to walk.
A voice called out just as I reached the gate, the familiar timbre sending a jolt of surprise through me. “Escaping the madness?”
Turning, I found Ben leaning against the side of his car, an amused smile playing on his lips as he watched my attempt at a stealthy exit from the backyard party. His unexpected presence, right there in the driveway next door, momentarily stalled my thoughts.
“Something like that,” I replied, my attempt at nonchalance faltering under his gaze. “Needed a breather. This bridal shower stuff is intense. But what are you doing over there. I heard the Jenkins sold the house. Did you buy it?”
Ben pushed off from his car to close the distance between us. “Yes, I did. Just closed on it a few days ago.”
“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued in spite of myself. “What are you going to do with it?”
“It will be a rental or a flip—I haven’t decided yet.”
“So will we be seeing a lot of you then?”
“Looks like it,” Ben confirmed, his smile widening at my reaction. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of my crew, but I’ll be around too.”
The implications of his words sent a flurry of thoughts racing through my mind, each more intriguing than the last. “Well, isn’t that interesting,” I teased. “I’ll have to come up with some good welcome-to-the-neighborhood pranks.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” he shot back, the light in his eyes sparking a familiar warmth within me.
Our laughter mingled, a comfortable silence settling over us. It was strange, this dance of flirtation and familiarity, as if the line between acquaintance and something much more was blurring right before our eyes.
“So,” I started, leaning against the fence, “how do you feel about a celebratory drink?”
Ben’s gaze held mine, a depth of emotion flickering beneath the surface. “I think that’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”
“Then wait right there. I’ll be back in a second,” I said and returned shortly with two glasses of white wine.
The decision to join him felt as natural as breathing, the pull between us undeniable. As we made our way to his front porch, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the promise of what was to come.
“So, where were you headed when I stopped you at the gate?” Ben asked after approving my choice of wine.
“I was going for a walk in the woods. They’re close enough that I can do a short hike without it taking too much time, and I love being there. It’s one of the things I miss the most, living in New York. I mean Central Park is great, but it’s so often crowded. It’s hard to find any space to be by myself and think.”
Ben looked increasingly concerned as I talked. “I had completely forgotten about those trails. I haven’t gone for a walk in there since I was in high school. Sophie, if you go for a walk in those woods, please don’t go alone.”
“Ben, I’ve been walking in there ever since I was old enough to go off by myself. Is there some reason I shouldn’t go alone anymore?”
“I don’t know for sure,” he sighed. “But I saw someone who seemed to be watching your house the other day, and it worried me. They were wearing a gray hoodie that hid their face, and they walked by your house twice that I saw, staring at it both times.”
“Okay, that does seem a little odd, but I can’t make the leap from that to someone wanting to cause any of us harm.”
“Well, what would it hurt to play it safe? Can you just walk around the neighborhood or what about the little park on Crescent Hills Road? You know the one I mean, right? It’s got that circular path that, if you walk the circle seven time, it’s the same as walking a mile.”
I agreed to play it safe on future walks and the conversation moved on to other topics. Sitting there, the soft hum of late afternoon around us, our conversation flowed freely. We talked about everything and nothing, from the mundane details of our different jobs to the shared memories that seemed to weave themselves more tightly around us with each passing moment.
The laughter came easily, the connection between us deepening as the day wore on. It was in these moments, with the barriers of the past and the uncertainties of the future momentarily forgotten, that I found myself truly savoring the present, the simple joy of being here with Ben, on the cusp of something new and entirely unexpected.
“Want to see the inside of the house?” he asked, a playful challenge in his eyes. “I’d like to know what you would do with it.”
I hesitated for a moment, the electric current of our earlier conversation still buzzing between us. “Lead the way,” I finally said, my curiosity piqued not just by the house but by the palpable tension that seemed to grow with every shared glance and laugh.
“This does need work,” I said, stepping into the foyer.
Ben watched me with a hint of amusement as I took in the surroundings. “Yes, it does. Nothing major, but the house is worn and outdated. I understand that the sellers had lived here for many years, and it looks like they didn’t do much with the place as they aged.”
We moved from room to room, discussing what should be done in each one. But in addition, the undercurrent of our flirtation grew, each comment and laugh drawing us closer, both physically and emotionally.
“This is the last stop on the tour,” Ben said, his voice lower now, a subtle shift that sent a shiver down my spine.
I turned to face him, the distance between us minimal. “This must be the master bedroom. It’s spacious,” I managed, the words feeling inadequate as the tension spiraled, drawing us into a moment that felt inevitable.
Without another word, Ben closed the gap, his hands finding my waist as he pulled me closer. The kiss was electric, a collision of every unspoken word and suppressed emotion that had formed between us. It was as if a dam had burst, the pent-up desire flooding in, overwhelming in its intensity.
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed me against the bedroom door, the solid wood a necessary support. The kiss deepened, both of us lost in the maelstrom of sensation and emotion that the other evoked.
Time seemed to stand still, the world outside fading away until there was nothing but the heat of his lips against mine, the strength of his arms around me, and the racing of my heart. The realization that this was more than just a fleeting moment, that what was unfolding between us had the potential to change everything, lingered at the edge of my consciousness, too insistent to ignore yet too daunting to fully embrace in the heat of the moment.
The abrupt blare of Ben’s phone shattered the spell that had enveloped us, its insistent ringtone slicing through the charged atmosphere like a cold blade. Startled, we sprang apart, the sudden intrusion of reality grounding us instantaneously.
He cursed under his breath, a frown creasing his forehead as he fished the device from his pocket. The transformation in his demeanor was immediate, the warmth in his eyes giving way to a steely reserve as he glanced at the screen. “Shit, I have to take this,” he muttered, an apology laced with frustration.
I nodded, trying to mask the swirl of emotions his abrupt change in attitude stirred within me. As he moved away to answer the call, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease, the intimacy of moments before now replaced by a palpable tension.
Though his words were inaudible, the gravity of the conversation was written all over his face. His features hardened, each line and contour settling into a mask of cold efficiency. The transformation was jarring, a stark reminder of what lay beneath the surface of the man I thought I knew.
When he finally hung up, the silence that followed was heavy, fraught with unspoken questions. The air between us, once electric with desire, now felt charged with a different kind of energy, one that spoke of challenges and unforeseen complications.
He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that seemed to signal a return to a world far removed from the one we’d momentarily created. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to go,” he said, his voice devoid of the warmth that he had been showing me since I left the wedding shower and ran into him.
The abrupt transformation—with no explanation—stung, leaving me feeling exposed and suddenly a little vulnerable. The intimacy we’d shared had been real—or so I’d thought—but his swift retraction left me reeling, questioning the authenticity of every look, every touch.
“I...okay,” I whispered. The distance between us felt like a chasm now, the connection we’d shared moments before, now as insubstantial as smoke.
As I made my way to the door, the reality of what had just transpired began to settle in, and a mix of embarrassment and confusion clouded my thoughts. The warmth of his lips on mine was still a tangible memory, yet the cold dismissal that had followed left me feeling adrift, unsure of where we stood.
This time with Ben, which had started with such promise, had taken an unexpected turn, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of a moment that had burned too bright, too fast. As I rejoined my family, my mask of composure firmly back in place, I couldn’t help but wonder about the enigmatic man next door and the complex web of emotions and circumstances that seemed to envelop him.