Chapter 18
Davis
After an eighteen-hour day troubleshooting the chiller, researching spare parts, and trying everything I could think of to get it up and running again, I had to admit defeat. We'd lost a full batch of wort.
I thought for sure I'd sleep as soon as my head hit my pillow, but I underestimated the grip Sophie had on me. Getting pulled into the brewing emergency had sent a cascade of memories surging through me, reminding me of why I didn't date: the farm demanded all of my attention.
Melody had taught me the hard way that no woman would tolerate coming in second place to equipment failure. I had the divorce decree to prove it.
Our short-lived marriage after college had reinforced an important lesson: I was married to the farm and to our family business. Trying for something more would be unfair to Sophie with the next emergency just around the corner.
Even my mother hadn't been able to stick it out, bailing by the time Jo entered elementary school.
Jo and I had started helping then with farm chores, as much out of necessity as because it was the only way to spend time with our dad.
Since those early years, Pinkney Brewing had grown, and we'd hired employees who could manage most of the day-to-day operations, but the hops and brewing still took our daily focus.
Still, I couldn't close my eyes without seeing Sophie's face. Her round cheeks, sweet smile, and soft brown eyes called to me. I could imagine her curled on her side next to me, one hand beneath her cheek as she listened to me talk about my day.
I missed her.
The realization shook me. When Melody ended our marriage, I was hurt, but it hadn't really touched me. My softer feelings had been burned out by our constant arguments about how I spent my time.
It seemed unthinkable that Sophie had a deeper impact on me than my ex-wife. We'd only spent a couple of days together, but maybe that was the power of Sophie: she was nearly impossible to resist.
It was easy to see her colorful clothing and upbeat personality and believe that was all there was, but I’d witnessed enough of her quiet moments, her dedication to her students, to know that anyone who viewed Sophie as no more than a happy-go-lucky airhead missed the point entirely.
She had a way of drawing me out, teasing me, and listening, even when I wasn’t saying much, that I craved.
For the first time in memory, I wanted to share and bask in her easy comradery.
She encouraged me to dig deeper, understand more of the woman who lurked behind the breezy front she presented to the rest of the world.
The sexy woman underneath her glittery armor had seduced me with her big heart and ability to handle my gruff moments with grace.
Thinking about Sophie led to the inevitable physical result.
The temptation to stroke it out hovered, but it felt wrong to pleasure myself with thoughts of her when I’d been the one to pull back.
While fantasizing might ease my current frustration, it was an excuse to avoid what I really needed to do: apologize and try again with Sophie.
With a groan, I flipped over, willing my erection to subside. Focusing on ways to apologize cooled me quickly, afraid I’d fail to convince her to give me another chance. I'd traded one form of discomfort for another, but I held on to hope. My worry would be worth it if she gave me another shot.
***
Sunday morning was spent mopping up the mess we'd made of things with the chiller, but I couldn't stop thinking about Sophie and my next move.
Did I text or try to see her in person? My cowardly instinct was to text, but if I really wanted to make things up to her, it'd probably take considerably more work than a few words on a screen to lift myself out of the hole I'd dug.
Deciding that flowers were a classic for a reason, I grabbed my garden shears and wandered to the border of daffodils that lined the back yard. Our mother had planted them years ago, and, unlike her, they came back year after year, their bright yellow blooms nodding in the wind.
The bitter reminder made me second-guess my gesture. Maybe bringing her something that reminded me of the past wasn't the olive branch I needed. Then again, it was time to make new memories. I snipped an armful of stems, determined to show Sophie and myself that the past didn't own me.
In the kitchen, I used wet paper towels and a plastic bag from beneath the sink to wrap my bounty.
"Are those for Sophie?"
Jo's question startled me. I should be used to her quiet appearance. Jo had a talent for creeping around the house like a ghost.
"Yes." I poked the bag at the base of my offering. "Something about this looks a little…"
"Frumpy?" Jo offered.
"Yeah."
"I think I have just the thing. Give me a sec." She disappeared, returning with a woven basket.
"Thanks, Jo." I plopped the flowers into her contribution.
"Much better."
"But maybe not enough," I muttered.
She sighed, shaking her head. Used to her stalling techniques, I waited her out.
"You do have a secret weapon," she said.
"What?"
She rolled her eyes. "The kittens. Frick and Frack would probably love a play date."
"I don't think Sophie's apartment allows pets."
"Maybe not permanently, but for a visit? You need every weapon in your arsenal."
"I'm not going to war," I said, scrunching my nose at the analogy.
"That's what you think."
"Okay. Noted. Thanks."
"You can thank me by keeping me out of the middle of whatever this is.” She gestured to my flowers.
After packing Frick and Frack into my cat carrier, I drove to Sophie's.
I parked, frowning at her closed door from the front seat of my truck. Maybe I should have called first. I shook my head. I definitely should have called first.
"Davis?"
Sophie's voice outside my window startled me.
She looked equally surprised to see me, dressed in workout clothes.
The tight black leggings and sleek pink top accentuated every curve, and I wanted nothing more than to lick at the drop of sweat sliding down her collarbone and trace it to heaven. But I had to earn back that right.
Nerves clamped around my vocal cords, making it difficult to speak.
Her aloof expression didn’t help. The tiny furrow between her brows and downturn to her sweet pink mouth emphasized how much I’d screwed up, texting her a lame cancellation.
I missed my enthusiastic Sophie. The one who was always happy to see me, even when I was being a grumpy SOB.
I missed her smiles; I missed her teasing. I missed damn near everything about her.
If I couldn’t put her first due to farm obligations, I should have at least put her feelings ahead of my pride.
A fresh wave of remorse washed through me.
I could protest that I wasn’t used to considering anyone else’s feelings anymore, that I’d fallen out of practice, but the truth was I’d never picked up the knack. That needed to change.
Slowly, I slipped out of my truck.
I stood close enough to catch the mix of soap and salty tang of sweat mixing on her skin.
She took a step back, and my heart stopped.
I hated that she wanted to put more distance between us, when all I wanted to do was close that gap.
I needed to hold her. That ache of longing when she hovered so close was nearly unbearable.
"I came by to apologize. Do you have a few minutes for me?" Maybe it was too blunt, but if I didn't get to the point quickly, she might politely shoo me away.
"I'm kind of a mess," she protested. "I just got back from a run."
Her breathing was pronounced, and a gentle sheen of sweat bathed her in a golden glow. She was beautiful.
"Please?"
She stared at me. Her eyes were impossibly wide, conveying a mix of hope and cautious optimism. "You can come in. I only need a minute to shower. Do you want some coffee?"
Relieved, I nodded. "Thanks. I'll be right behind you."
I circled the cab, grabbing Frick and Frack's carrier and the daffodils and following her inside.
"For me?"
I nodded, unable to speak around the lump in my throat. She looked taken aback.
I shook my head. Another indicator I'd been an asshole. I cleared my throat. "Go do what you need to. I know my way around a coffee maker."
She paused, seeming to weigh my offer before nodding. "I'll be right back."
She disappeared down the hall, and Frick and Frack mewled pitifully.
"I've gotta wait for permission to let you out," I soothed, setting their carrier carefully on the floor in her small kitchen. I placed the basket of flowers in the center of the table before exploring her cabinets for coffee beans and filters.
Sophie had added her own upbeat flair to the generic kitchen, bright yellow towels and potholders adding color to the small space. I grinned when I spotted the bee-shaped cookie jar. It reminded me of her balloon.
I set the coffee maker to percolate, pulling mugs and half-and-half from the fridge.
Sophie had been gracious thus far. Not really a surprise, but the harder part of my visit was still to come.
Apologizing for my mistakes had never come easy to me, but our dad had drilled Jo and me on the importance of owning up to our blunders early.
The coffee pot beeped, and I poured cups for Sophie and me, fixing hers how she liked it.
"Thanks," she said, slipping into the kitchen. Strands of wet hair clung to her rosy cheeks, and my breath caught. It was really unfair of her to be so beautiful when I had an apology to spit out.
"I'm sorry," I said roughly, extending a mug to her.
Our fingers brushed, and my world stood still.
At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be forgiven.
To take her in my arms. But Sophie's closed-off expression made me doubt that was in the cards. The change in her only emphasized how much I’d fucked up.
Losing my bubbly, effusive Sophie was a blow. One I deserved.
"Is it okay for me to let Frick and Frack out for a visit?"
"Sure."
Was it my imagination, or was Sophie's voice rusty? I opened the cat carrier, lifting the kitten siblings out one at a time and offering them to Sophie. She cuddled them in her arms, one in the crook of each elbow, as they purred their approval.
Jo deserved a big fucking thank you. Sophie's expression had softened as she accepted each furry bundle. What I lacked in verbal skills, maybe I could make up for with sweet distractions. I sighed, fighting the impulse to do the easy thing.
Sophie deserved more.
She deserved the words.
"I'm sorry for bailing on our date yesterday. That was really rude."
"That's okay, Davis. Some things aren't meant to be," she said lightly. "I won't let it hurt our friendship."
I barreled ahead, pretending she hadn't used the "f" word. "Will you give me another chance to take you out?"
She squinted, her expression somber. "I don't know, Davis. Yesterday you sounded more content to just cancel. I don't want a man who thinks of me as a chore."
"You deserve a man who thinks of you as a treasure, but I can’t hide that I've got a lot on my plate. I have responsibilities."
"And I don't?"
"No. That's not what I meant at all." I dropped my head into my hands. "Dammit, I should have brought more kittens," I muttered into my palms.
"More kittens wouldn't fix this, Davis."
I straightened, capturing Sophie's gaze with mine. "Are you sure? It seemed like a pretty solid play there for a minute."
Sophie's lips twisted, and hope filled my heart. I racked my brain for the right words, the ones that would make her accept my apology. Believe my sincerity.
"I've said this all wrong. Let me try again," I pleaded.
"Davis, this isn't a test. There’s no right answer."
"Any answer other than you forgiving me, agreeing to go out with me, is a failing grade in my book.
What I meant to say was that I can't stop thinking about you.
Yesterday would have been a thousand times better if I knew I had seeing you to look forward to.
I screwed up, and I'm sorry. I'd love it if we could try again.
I won't let work get in the way this time. "
"It's not that you had to cancel for a work emergency that bothers me."
"No, but I worry that at some point it will."
"Why?" she asked. “We both have careers. Things are going to come up.”
"Because it has in my past," I muttered. Maybe she already knew about my brief marriage to Melody. It seemed foolish to reveal my biggest failure when I was trying to convince her to take a chance on me, but Sophie deserved the truth.
"I was married once. It didn't work out.
Colville was too small, and I was too busy with work to spend much time with her.
She was bored, and I shouldn't have blamed her for feeling lonely in our marriage.
I thought she had more than enough between work and what little time I was able to spare.
She disagreed. At the end of the day, she wanted more than me. "
I shrugged. "She left. She’s remarried now, to a nice man who lives in Spokane. They have like three kids, and she seems perfectly happy. Clearly, it wasn’t her that was the problem."
Sophie eased the kittens into her lap. They curled together, yin to each other's yang, and I chose to read it as an omen.
"I don't know how to reassure you that I won't resent your work," she said, her tone soft.
"And I don't know that I can guarantee I won't get grumpy and bail when I get stressed, but I’ll try," I admitted.
Sophie sipped at her coffee, peering at me over the top of her cup. "So, you're saying we need a leap of faith…"
"Yeah."
Her expression was hard to read. Taking chances wasn't exactly in my nature, but with Sophie, I wanted to try.
Slowly, a grin broke across Sophie's face, and my heart beat faster.
"Then it's a good thing I love to fly."
I bit back the reminder that she also knew how to crash. It wasn't exactly the metaphor we were going for, even if that crash had brought her into my life, woken me up.
I swooped in, gathering her in my arms, careful to pry the hot cup of coffee from her hands before sneaking in a coffee-flavored kiss.
"Maybe you can take me up next time?" I asked, wanting to demonstrate my belief that we could fly.
Together.
“I can always use a co-pilot,” she murmured, smiling. The trust in her eyes warmed me from the inside, seeking out the lingering corners of doubt and extinguishing them with her faith.