Chapter 21
Sophie
Davis had been a peach, agreeing to come speak with my students. My usually gruff farmer was very gentle with my class, proving once and for all that his rough exterior covered a marshmallow heart.
The only cloud on my horizon was our plans to test Bee-gonia.
I didn't want to admit that the thought of another flight gave me chills.
If I didn't get back in the air, I worried I never would.
The crash at Davis and Jo's hadn't been catastrophic.
All things considered, it could have been much worse, which wasn't as comforting as I wanted it to be.
Hank had assured me that he'd fixed the faulty valve.
Weather and unfavorable landing conditions were far riskier and more common than burner issues, but that didn't stop me from worrying.
I pushed aside my misgivings, focusing instead on planning for the upcoming Balloon Festival. I emailed my fellow pilots, confirming how many needed ground crew volunteers.
Ballooning was relatively straightforward, and newbie crew were pretty easy to break in.
You needed at least a couple of people to drive the chase vehicle, ideally a driver who knew the local area and someone to spot.
Pilots fueled up beforehand and found a place to launch.
In our case, we’d all launch from the high school, which made things easy.
We always evaluated launch conditions on the morning of the flight.
Rain, too much wind, or not enough visibility were the main reasons for canceling a flight.
Once launched, you were at the mercy of the winds for a landing zone.
If your crew knew the local area, they'd chase and ask permission from the landowner before you touched down.
It took a mere twenty minutes to pack up with an experienced crew, but longer if you had to provide direction to new team members.
Depending on the friendliness of the landowner, I'd sometimes do tethered flights or have our landing celebration on their property.
Only once had I been chased away with a shotgun.
Some farmers did not like balloonists, even though responsible pilots asked permission and avoided damaging their landing sites.
Davis had been one of the landowners to complain in the past, and I hadn't even landed, only flown over.
Granted, one of my clients had taken a pic of him shirtless and posted it online.
It wasn't like I was trying to run a spy balloon operation, but he'd been pissed enough to make life difficult with the other farmers.
Luckily, most of the locals weren't averse to a little donut diplomacy, and I'd been able to bring by treats and schmooze at the feed store to earn support for our balloon festival.
Davis may have had an authoritative voice and the respect of his peers, but I'd had sugar and carbs on my side. It helped that I’d apologized to him for my passenger.
Returning to the Pruitt Farm for campfire night after my short stint living there felt odd. Like a mix of coming home, edged with anticipation over running into Davis.
Jo greeted me with an easy smile as I joined her at the fire pit. "You're early tonight," she said.
"I thought I'd help you get set up."
Jo arched her brows. "Help me, or help Davis?"
"I'm sure Davis doesn't need help," I said mildly.
Showing up early had been a dead giveaway. She sniffed out my real intentions in under a minute.
Jo snorted. "Sure he does. Just not with what you think."
"Enlighten me," I said, intrigued by the edge in her voice.
She sighed, narrowing her eyes. “He needs to know you’re not going to bail. He takes his responsibilities seriously. To his relationships and the farm. He’s worked hard on himself, but sometimes I think he forgets how far he’s come.”
“What do you mean?” I sensed there was more she wasn’t saying.
“Do you know about Melody?”
Slowly, I nodded.
“Davis and Melody were a mess together. Always fighting. It was exhausting to be around. Toward the end, I think they realized they were only hurting each other more, trying to stay together. Melody had the courage to call it quits, but Davis was angry for a long time. He saw it as repeating our father’s mistakes, loving someone who wouldn’t stay.
I wasn’t sure he’d find someone to trust again. ”
“You think he trusts me?” I asked, mulling over the Davis I knew, comparing him to the man she described.
“Enough to be himself,” she said softly. “He’s not perfect, Sophie, but for you, I think he’ll do just about anything. Don’t abuse that.”
Hurt washed through me, offended that she thought I’d ever hurt her brother. She knew me. Knew my character. But she’d also witnessed Davis’s pain. He’d clearly been hurt in the past, and I couldn’t blame her for being protective.
“I wouldn’t,” I pledged, wanting to earn her trust and his if I didn’t already have it.
Davis was worth fighting for.
While I couldn’t imagine hurting him, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt me. I could only hope he felt half as protective of me as Jo and I did about him.
I didn’t have a Jo, someone on my side who was willing to go to the mats with a friend to protect me and keep him from breaking my heart.
"Hey," Gwen greeted from the path as she joined us.
Izzy and Eve appeared a moment later, and we dug into the pizzas Izzy brought for dinner, focusing on town business. I gave a report on the balloon festival arrangements and our volunteer roster.
"No signs of interference?" Gwen asked, brow furrowed.
I shook my head. "Nah. The piloting community is small, and I warned the group that we've had some hinky incidents."
"Plus, I pity the fool who tries to sound like you in an email," Eve said with a hastily hidden smile.
I lifted a shoulder, used to her teasing. "What's wrong with emojis?"
"Nothing, I've just never met someone who uses so many."
"This from a woman who draws pictures all day?" I asked.
Eve rolled her eyes. "Tattoos are different."
"Of course they are, but I thought you'd understand the urge for artistic flourish."
"Sophie, honey, calling emojis artistic is a stretch."
"Eh, whatever. I like 'em. And the pilots we've recruited for the event are used to my communication style. They won't be easily fooled by imitations."
"That's because you're one of a kind," Izzy said loyally, and I smiled.
"Exactly."
"Does anyone else have any Campfire business for tonight?" Gwen asked.
We shook our heads. She grinned, turning her focus to me. "Good. Then I vote we move on to the second item on our agenda: grilling Sophie about Davis."
"Seconded," Izzy chimed in.
Somewhere, Henry Martyn Robert was rolling over in his grave, but if I listed all of the ways we took liberty with town council procedures and Robert's Rules of Order, I'd be just as dead by the time I finished.
"So…" Izzy prodded, drawing the word out.
I waited. Or tried to.
The crackle of flames consuming logs in the firepit filled the evening, and I struggled to listen for frogs, hoping their music would convince me I didn't need to fill the silence.
"This is your idea of an interrogation?" I asked.
Gwen, Eve, Izzy, and Jo grinned, watching me.
Darn it. They knew me too well.
I let loose a heavy sigh, resigned to my fate. "Fine. You win. Davis and I had a fabulous first date on Sunday. He took me hiking up Quartzite Mountain and packed us a picnic. It was very sweet. Afterward, he drove me to pick up Bee-gonia's burner. We had a great day."
I hoped that would be enough to satisfy them.
My feelings for Davis were still new, and spilling them in front of his sister, even if she was a good friend, felt weird.
Maybe some of Davis's desire for privacy was rubbing off on me, because I both wanted to gush and struggled to find the right words.
Did I tell them he kissed like a maniac?
Jo didn't need to hear that about her brother.
Could I share that he made me feel safe, maybe for the first time in a while?
I hadn't talked about my accident and reasons for moving to Campfire, and it wasn’t the right time to confess.
"And…?" Eve let the question hang, tempting me to continue.
"He's a great guy," I said, glancing at Jo. Oversharing with her present was not an option.
"A great guy who…" Izzy prodded.
"Makes me tingle." I glanced around. "Is that what y'all wanted to hear?"
Three grins and one headshake met my pronouncement.
The low rumble of a quad broke the silence.
A few moments later, Davis drew to a stop beside the wood pile.
He found me in the gloom, no doubt thanks to my excellent fashion choices.
My bright yellow jacket almost glowed in the dark.
Eve liked to joke that it could probably be seen from space, but if it made me easy to spot by those I wanted to find me? Worth it.
"Ride with me?"
His soft invitation warmed me from the inside.
"Goodnight, everybody," I called, climbing on behind Davis and wrapping my arms around his solid bulk.
His rumbled "Ready?" sent a fresh rush of anticipation snaking through me.
I didn't even bother to ask where he was taking me. Anywhere he went was probably somewhere I wanted to go. Slowly, he accelerated, taking a left at the fork, turning opposite the path to the house.
Away from the fire, it was much cooler, and I shivered, snuggling into Davis's back for warmth.
He drove a few minutes, following a well-worn trail through the hops.
We wound up a wooded path on what I suspected was the north end of their property, emerging in a small clearing on the side of the hill.
The moon hung heavy in the sky, slowly emerging over the horizon. A mix of trees ringed the clearing, and somewhere an enterprising bullfrog called to his mate.
Davis cut the engine, pausing for me to slip off before boosting himself from the seat.
He grabbed a blanket bungeed to the back of the quad and extended a hand for mine.
Our fingers meshed, and he tugged me to a small spot of new spring grass, releasing me to spread the blanket.
He dropped down, long legs extended and propped up by one elbow, and patted the spot next to him.
"Join me?"
The stars shone down on the little nest he’d created for us.
The dark sky, bright moon, and symphony of wildlife created a magical cocoon of coziness.
The trees should have felt imposing, but their screen made the glade feel more private from the rest of the farm, a quiet place for reflection and sharing secrets.
As gracefully as possible, I kneeled next to him, relaxing until I mimicked his position. The wool blanket was scratchy beneath my fingers, but at least the tight weave would keep out the worst of the damp.
Davis patted my hip. "Comfortable?" He whispered the question in my ear, and it was all I could do not to whimper.
His bulk shadowed me, achingly close, my backside barely grazing his thighs. I wanted him closer. I needed him snuggled around me.
"It's a little chilly. Maybe we can spoon?"
Davis scooched closer, and I shifted my hips back, holding my breath until our bodies aligned.
"Much better," I sighed as he dropped a big palm along my hip.
The heat from his hand burned through my jeans, igniting an answering flame deeper.
In a perfect world, he'd unbutton my fly and slip his fingers beneath the waistband, diving to touch me where I wanted him most. Slick moisture gathered between my thighs, until I ached to make the fantasy a reality, but Davis's hand lay stubbornly at my hip.
I released a shuddering breath, tempted to ask him for more. After all, he'd been eager enough to take me up on my offer to cuddle closer.
"It's peaceful out here," I said instead.
"Mm."
Slowly, I let the frogs and the night sky lull me into a semblance of calm.
But I could never forget that Davis provided the wall of heat at my back.
Achingly close, and yet not doing anything about it.
The man had the restraint of a saint. Too bad all I could think about was sin.
Practical me could recognize that it was a bit nippy to get naked under the stars, but sex-starved Sophie didn't give a flying fork. Davis would keep me warm.
He seemed almost meditative behind me, his breath even, his body still.
I wanted to scoot my hips back, grind them into his lap, just to see if I could get a reaction, but that wouldn't be fair.
Though I couldn't understand why he'd brought me out here, if he didn't intend at least a bit more?
He hadn't so much as kissed me. My ego couldn’t handle it if he'd actually fallen asleep behind me.
Then again, he'd probably been burning the candle from both ends for weeks, between the chiller issues and routine farm demands. He deserved the rest.
"Sophie?"
His soft rumble set every nerve aflame, as if I hadn't just talked myself into an innocent bout of stargazing while he caught a quick nap.
"Ye-ah?"
My voice cracked in the middle, a dead giveaway that I wasn't feeling quite as casual as I wanted to appear. Thankfully, Davis wasn't as adept at reading my tells yet.
"Wanna make out? Otherwise, I can take you back if you're getting cold."
I laughed. Blunt and to the point. That was my Davis.
My hormones roared, celebrating his offer.
My heart cautioned me to take things slower.
I scooted until I was on my back, better able to read his expression. Davis lay next to me, his head propped on one hand, watching me with hungry eyes. The lust flickering in his gaze made me feel less self-conscious about my earlier fantasy.
I stroked Davis's chest, burrowing my hands under his jacket to rest against his abdomen. The muscles drew taut under my fingers, and I couldn't help but stroke the ridges.
"Is this your master plan? Bring me out under the stars and seduce me?" I asked. "Because, if so? I'm totally in."
"Stop me if you get too cold," Davis urged, his expression serious.
I chuckled.
"Stop me if you get too hot."