Chapter 25
Davis
The insistent buzz from my phone drilled into my sluggish, still waking brain.
I wished I could swat it away, but a quick glance at the screen revealed my operations manager’s number.
I slid from the bed, careful not to jostle Sophie more than necessary, and strode to the tiny kitchenette before answering.
"Carlos, what's the problem?"
"Why do you think I always call with issues?"
I snorted. "It's not even five."
"So? You're usually awake."
I glanced toward the hall, thinking about my late night with Sophie and the reason I was so groggy today.
Worth it.
"What's up, Carlos?"
"One of the pumps is down in brewing."
I bit back my groan. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.
"Be there in fifteen," I said, when what I really wanted to do was tell him to find someone else. But there was no one else. Jo's forte was the actual brewing. The art. I fixed shit. Between the two of us, we made it work. But days like today, being the boss sucked.
Letting Sophie sleep seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do, but I didn't want to strand her at the cottage. Leaving her a note to call Jo later seemed like an equally bad idea.
She lay on her side beneath the sheets, one rounded shoulder peeking out from the covers.
"Sophie," I called softly, slipping into the spot I'd vacated, wishing I could wrap her in my arms instead of waking her.
"Hmm?"
Her sleepy question made me smile. She hadn't even cracked her lids, only rolled toward me.
"I've got to get back to the farm. Can I give you a ride home now, or do you want to call Jo or someone later?"
Sophie's eyes popped open. "What time is it?"
"A few minutes to five."
"I should get home and shower."
"Sorry for the early wakeup," I apologized.
I leaned in, stealing a quick kiss. She was too adorably mussed to resist, her dark hair in a tangle, her lips still kiss-stung from our night together.
"You're forgiven," Sophie said. "Let me just find my clothes."
I handed her a neatly folded pile, and she made quick work of slipping into her things. As much as I hated to see her cover up, ignoring the world wouldn't fly for long. We both had responsibilities.
Dropping her off at her apartment felt like a letdown after our night together, but I appreciated that Sophie took the abrupt end to our night together with grace. My original plan had been to make breakfast for her, but the pump that recirculated our brewing mash had other plans.
"Want to come over after dinner tonight?" Sophie asked as she slipped out of my truck in last night's clothes.
"Yes, but I doubt I can make it. I don't want to say yes and have to cancel last-minute. The mash pump is likely going to make it a long day."
"Oh."
"How do you feel about Friday instead?" I asked. "Then we can take Bee-gonia out in the morning?"
Sophie grinned. "Bring your toothbrush?"
"Deal," I said, leaning in for a kiss.
As much as I wanted to linger, Carlos was waiting.
"See you then, sweet Bee."
***
Jo surprised me, arriving with coffee and energy bars while Carlos and I were troubleshooting.
"Thanks," I said, taking the steaming mug from her.
I'd gone directly to our brewing barn, not even stopping for a change of clothes. Carlos had been smart enough not to comment, but I doubted Jo would give me any grace.
"Nice shirt," she said mildly.
She'd probably drawn her own conclusions when I didn't come home the night before. But her comment reminded me that not everyone knew Sophie and I spent the night together.
"Any big plans for the weekend?" she asked.
"Dinner at Sophie's Friday and a test flight with her Saturday morning."
Jo's eyes widened. "You? In a hot air balloon." She glanced at Carlos. "Did you have hell freezing over on your bingo card for this week?"
Carlos shook his head, grinning. "Nah. Then again, I didn't have our pump imploding on it either. I need a new card. Mine's feeling like a loser."
"What about you? Are you around this weekend?" I asked.
"Not much," she murmured. "I'll probably be around Saturday morning if y'all need ground crew, but I have plans in the evening."
Jo had become more secretive lately. She answered direct questions, but I'd noticed her skating around, offering only vague information on the weekends.
It was normal for her to hunker down with a book and a pot of tea or go out with her friends.
But something about the way she avoided talking about details pinged my brotherly senses.
Jo could usually be relied on to talk at length about her books or latest TV interest. Being so close-mouthed wasn't like her.
"Are your plans with anyone I know?" I asked.
"What kind of question is that, Davis? You know the whole town."
Not an answer.
Carlos distracted me with a request to re-energize the pump, and Jo escaped while I did his bidding at the electrical panel.
Thankfully, our repair looked like it would hold. We couldn't afford the expense of another major equipment failure.
When I finally climbed into my shower well after dark, I was bone-tired.
Water sluiced over my sore muscles. Most were courtesy of the hard labor Carlos and I had done.
But not all. Sophie's nails had scored my back.
Not enough to draw blood, but enough to abrade the skin.
The tiny wounds stung under the water, sending a flash of pleasure-pain to my groin. My candy-coated badass packed a punch.
Tussling with her was the highlight of my week. My month. My year. My life? I stilled, rolling the words around, feeling their weight. Their truth.
Sophie was everything I wanted in a partner.
Everything I needed. She could keep a group of twenty tiny eight-year-olds calmly in hand without dimming their enthusiasm for learning.
She'd mastered piloting a balloon, adapting to the winds and obstacles that blew her off course.
She was both beautiful and strong. She blazed a trail with sunshine and love.
Her unbreakable spirit was a beacon to those around her, including me.
Something about her optimism and faith spilled over into me, buoying my spirits.
Somehow, the realization brought more peace than fear, which shocked the hell outta me. Sophie really was changing me, but I had to admit the new sense of hope felt good. It felt fucking great. I couldn’t wait to see her again.
Still wet from the shower, I couldn’t resist texting her.
Davis: Are me and my toothbrush still welcome tomorrow night?
Davis: What time?
Sophie: Five?
Davis: Anything I can bring?
Sophie: Your brave face.
Sophie: There’s a 100% chance my neighbor, Mrs. Lee, is going to be “watering her plants” all morning to catch a glimpse of the man who makes me moan.
Davis: Is she going to give me a hard time?
Sophie: A standing ovation, maybe.
I laughed, the bright, deep sound straight from my gut rolling around my room. If I couldn’t be subtle, I could be proud. There were worse things than the neighbors knowing you’d made your girlfriend come.
Anticipation filled me, new ideas for ways I could make Sophie moan. As games went, it might be my new favorite. One I wanted to become expert at.