by Melody Grace
Dash’s expression turned mischievous. “Well, there was this one girl… She broke up with me in a text message.”
“The horror!”
“Hey! There’s a way to do that kind of thing, and it’s not on your mobile phone.”
“You Brits,” she teased, “such sticklers for etiquette. So, what was your revenge?”
“A mate of mine was writing a horror movie, and he was brainstorming… So I may have suggested he call a character Claire and have her get attacked by the monster because she was too busy looking at her phone.”
Ellie laughed. “Do you think she ever realized it was her?”
He shrugged. “Be a pretty great claim to fame if she did. That’s the problem with writing your revenge,” he sighed. “Usually the people are too excited to be in a movie at all to care if they look bad.”
“Right, they get to live on forever.” Ellie yawned. “Still, I’d hate it, having someone write about me. Just imagine, being immortalized as a weird version of yourself—like they get to decide who’s the real you.” She shuddered.
“I don’t know.” Dash looked unsettled. “Wouldn’t you be flattered?”
“No way.” She shook her head, determined. “I’m happy to stay behind the scenes, thanks very much. So no getting any ideas about putting me in your movie,” she warned him, joking.
He coughed, then took a gulp of tea. Ellie’s eyes went to the clock over the mantle. She’d lost track of time, talking like this, and now it was past one in the morning. She yawned again, but didn’t move. It was cozy there, tucked in the warm room with the fire flickering in the grate, and she was feeling a sleepy kind of lull.
This would be simpler if Dash wasn’t so easy to talk to. She could just keep her distance and fight the attraction until his stay was over. But instead… she liked spending time with him. Even when he bugged her with his ego and teasing, it was still a fun back-and-forth, words and quips flying between them. She didn’t think she’d ever had such a natural rhythm with a guy like that before.
“What are you thinking?” Dash’s voice broke her sleepy haze.
She flushed. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “Just all the things I need to do tomorrow.”
“Don’t you have a to-do list for that?” Dash’s smile was gentle. Teasing.
He already knew her too well.
“This is the revised list,” Ellie lied. “Although, this is the easiest season. We have a ton of guests, but they’re regulars. They all pretty much take care of themselves.”
“Except for that annoying chap in cabin fifteen.” Dash’s eyes flashed with mirth. “He can’t go five minutes without needing rescue from the snow.”
“He could have packed a couple more layers,” she agreed, smiling.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Dash looked down, tugging at his T-shirt. It lifted, revealing several inches of tanned, toned stomach muscle.
She swallowed.
“They’re fine—for an afternoon at the beach.” She dragged her gaze away. “But maybe you want to invest in a fleece if you want to make it through a real winter.”
“Fleece, check.” Dash grinned. “I’ll have to remember that for next time.”
Next time.
Her heart lifted. If he was coming back, then maybe, their kiss could be the start of something, not the end. He probably travelled for movies all the time; there was no reason he couldn’t swing by Sweetbriar Cove en route to New York or London—
No. Ellie forced her imagination back in check. He’d said it himself, that kiss was a mistake, and besides, hadn’t she learned by now that long distance was a lie? She refused to be the girl waiting around for her guy to remember she existed. She wanted to be off, having adventures of her own, not hanging out in the hope of a visit every couple of months.
She looked at Dash, stretching out on the couch. He tugged a blanket down and covered his legs, giving Ellie a sleepy smile that made her want to snuggle up right there with him—and do anything but sleep tonight.
She got to her feet.
“Calling it a night?” Dash asked, and she wondered if that was disappointment in his voice.
She nodded. “Busy day tomorrow. I’m a guest judge at the nog-off.”
“Nog-off?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Eggnog tasting,” she told him, and put another couple of logs on the fire. “Are you sure you’ll be OK here for the night? There are pillows in the closet just across the hall.”
“I’m all set.” Dash tugged his bag over and pulls out his laptop. “I won’t be getting much sleep, I’ve still got another twenty pages left in me.”
He smiled, clearly full of excitement to be getting back to work. Right. She’d been sitting there dreaming about stripping all his clothes off and doing unspeakable things on her parents’ knitted afghan throw, while he was plotting his next masterpiece. That was definitely her cue to leave.
“Goodnight,” she told him, heading for the door.
“Sleep tight.” His voice followed Ellie down the hallway, back to her room, and into her dreams.
6
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 stressed anxiety and tension from the past months 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 bright. The perfect winter’s day. He paused and watched a bundled-up figure trudge across the backyard to one of the cabins. The sun glint 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 her body couldn’t lie: for those moments she was in his arms, the heat between them was 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 big baggy pajamas…
Snap out of it, a voice in Dash’s head mocks 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. She was a million miles from the women he met back in LA: so focused on their own careers or fame, they’d stab anyone in the back 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 every five minutes, or who always had one eye on the door in case someone more famous walked in.
Ellie was different. It felt so easy just talking to her, even when she was driving him crazy. Last night by the fire, it too
k all his self-control not to make another move—just push 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 look 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 exited her bedroom and made for the stairs, leaving his laptop in the living room.
“The night owl awakes,” she greeted him when he stepped into the reception area. She was wearing an ugly bright green holiday sweater with a tree knitted on the front, and a familiar smirk on her gorgeous mouth. “Did anyone ever tell you you snore?”
“Do not!” Dash protested.
“Like a freight train.” She 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 go 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 meet, and Dash felt an unfamiliar pull—to reach for her, take her hand, anything to be closer. Touching her.
Dammit. What’s with this girl?
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 game 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…”
Ellie gamely took another mug to sip, introducing him around the room. The names and friendly faces blurred, but it was clear, everyone in town adored her. And why wouldn’t they? She was single-handedly running their accounts, doing their taxes, and sending guests their way for the festival. But watching her, Dash had to wonder if this was all she wanted from her life. That wall of postcards said more than her friendly smile ever could. Inside, she was itching for a taste of the outside world, but what would finally make her take that leap and strike out beyond Sweetbriar Cove to find a new life for herself?
And is there any room in that new life for me?
Dash stopped, the thought landing in his mind out of nowhere. No. It was crazy, He’d only just met her. He shook off the insanity and turned back to the room, just as the judges announced the winning eggnog recipe to a room full of applause—and some grumbles from an older man in the back.
“Uh oh, dissent in the ranks,” he whispered to Ellie as she emerged from the crowd. “Do I need to spirit you out of here before he demands a recount?”
She looked around, then smiled. “That’s just Eddie, he loses every year. The guy puts like half a glass of bourbon in every cup!”
“Sounds like a winner to me.”
“You won’t be saying that in the morning.” Ellie grinned, pulling her jacket back on. “Trust me, half the judges are going to be walking around with sunglasses tom
orrow to get over their hangovers.”
She said goodbye to a few people, then followed Dash outside. Snow was falling lightly, the sky pale silver over the dark silhouette of the town, but the streets were full. Everyone seemed to be gathering in the town square, holding lanterns and candles.
“It’s caroling night,” Ellie explained. “All the local choirs are here, some come from miles around.”
“Shall we?” Dash offered his arm. “Unless you need to get back to work.”
“No, I have the rest of the night off.” After a moment, Ellie slid her gloved hand into the crook of his arm. She met his eyes for a moment, then looked down, almost shy.
Blood rushed south.
Suddenly, the tension returned, strangely intimate out there in the middle of a crowd. They silently make their way across the street, joining the throngs of people around the huge holiday tree. The carols were already underway, sweet music in the crisp evening air. They found a spot near the front to watch, but even though it was a pretty scene, Dash was totally distracted by the woman beside him: every footstep, every glance, every move she made.
Damn, he wanted her.
A group of small kids ran past, jostling Ellie. Dash automatically put his arm around her waist to steady her.
Ellie didn’t step away.
He drew her closer, hands soft on her hips. He felt on edge, like one wrong move could push her away for good—but the right one…
The right move would break through those defenses and reignite all that fire he know could blaze between them, brighter than the torch flames flickering around the square.
His heart was pounding like he was sixteen all over again by the time Ellie exhaled a breath, shivering in the cool air. Then, slowly, she leaned back against him.
Yes.
Dash slipped his other hand around her waist, drawing her into the circle of his embrace. Ellie’s back to his front, her head resting against Dash’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a long moment watching the choir, long enough for Dash to breathe in the scent of her, her silky hair tickling his chin. Long enough for the heat to burn where their bodies meet.
