by Melody Grace
“Too late,” Charlotte said. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“Getting it back.” Ellie clambered up the side of the trash bin, trying to get a foothold.
“Ellie!”
“Don’t just stand there, help!”
Charlotte sighed, but came to help hoist her over the top. Ellie tumbled into the dumpster with a clatter, landing in a heap of garbage bags and empty boxes. “Gross! Whatever it is, I hope it’s worth it,” Charlotte said, peering over the top.
“It is.” Ellie determinedly started rooting around in the trash, ignoring the day-old food remains squelching around her. From rummaging around in the sewer lines to searching through trash, maybe the universe was trying to tell her something; either way, it’d have to wait. She found the bag Charlotte had just tossed, and ripped it open, eagerly sorting through the old tissues and empty wrappers until she found the tiny memory stick. “Got it!”
“Got what?” Charlotte gingerly helped Ellie out. She wrinkled her nose. “Wait, tell me after you take a shower.”
“No time!” Ellie was already sprinting back to the house. She made straight for the lobby computer, and inserted the stick. A couple of clicks later, and there it was: Dash’s script, on the screen in front of her.
She paused, her heart twisting with a bitter ache. Did she really want to do this?
She’d only had time to read the first few pages before blowing up at him before. The rest could be worse, much worse than that. What if it made her hate him even more?
Then she needed to know.
Ellie took a deep breath and scrolled to the top of the document. If this was what tore them apart, then she owed it to herself to read the whole thing. And maybe then she could see why Dash chose this script over the two of them—and understand once and for all that she’d made the right call.
Either way, she had to know.
Ellie started reading.
Fifty pages later, Ellie wished she’d left the script in the trash.
“That bad?” Charlotte asked. She’d been watching Ellie anxiously for an hour now, waiting for some hint of what was on the drive.
“Worse,” Ellie said, her heart so low it was scraping in the gutter.
“So, you did the right thing!” Charlotte tried to sound upbeat. “If he chose that bullshit over you, you’re better off without him.”
Ellie didn’t reply. Dash wasn’t the one who had made the mistake—she had. And now that she’d read what was left of his script, she could see the truth clearly.
She’d judged him all wrong.
The script wasn’t some hatchet job. It was sweet and thrilling, emotional and moving. And Ally… God, where couldn’t she even begin? Sure, the character was scared and insecure at the start of the story, but that was the point. She didn’t believe in herself, that she could make her dreams a reality. But her character was the engine behind everything, forcing the rest of the cast out of their comfort zones until by the end of all the drama and conflict, she finally found herself.
Close in on: Ally, watching her final sunrise over the cliffs as the building burns behind her. We can see the change in her face: she’s ready. She’s perfect.
Ellie felt a lump in her throat. She’d never had guys write her love letters or compose sweet songs in her name. She’d never inspired much of anything, but right then, seeing this thing that Dash created—in part, because of her—she felt overwhelmed with pride and awe and a dozen other emotions besides. The script was good, so good, and the fact that she had even the smallest hand in bringing it to life was amazing.
Dash was amazing. And she’d chased him away.
“Goddamn it!” Ellie let out a string of curse words and buried her head in her arms on the desk.
“Do you hear that?” Charlotte asked behind her.
“Hear what? The sound of my heart breaking? Loud and clear.”
“No, the singing.”
Ellie reluctantly lifted her head and listened. She was right, there was singing nearby, getting louder.
“I thought the festival was in town.” Charlotte frowned.
“It is.” Ellie got up and went to open the door. Outside, the Sweetbriar carol choir were coming up the snowy driveway, their lanterns bobbing in the dusk light. As they drew closer, she could hear the music more clearly, but it wasn’t any carol she recognized.
“Everybody’s gone surfing...”
Charlotte jostled behind her to get a better look. “Is that the Beach Boys they’re singing? What’s going on?”
“No idea.” Ellie watched as the group took up position in front of the inn, bundled up in winter coats and scarves, lustily singing their hearts out about beaches and summer as the snow fell softly around them. It might just be the most bizarre thing she’d ever seen, and in Sweetbriar Cove, that was saying a lot.
Finally, the song came to an end. Ellie and her sister gave a confused round of applause. “I guess we better invite them in for cocoa,” Charlotte whispered, but before Ellie could say anything, the choir parted and a familiar figure emerged.
Dash.
Her jaw dropped. She didn’t understand. What was he doing there?
Ellie heard Charlotte make an excited squeak. She jabbed her elbow into her sister’s ribs, her mind racing.
God, he looked good in that navy peacoat, with the cold flush in his cheeks and dark hair falling messily in his eyes. But it was the look in those eyes that made her heart pound faster: determined and sincere.
He was there. He came back.
What did it mean?
“Merry Christmas,” Dash said, approaching with a bashful smile on his gorgeous face.
Ellie finally remembered how to speak. “What are you doing here?” she managed.
“I came to apologize.” Dash shoved his hands in his coat pocket, and for a moment, looked adorably vulnerable. The Sweetbriar singers were still standing around, watching them with fascination—everyone she knew from town all with front-row seats to the show.
“Surf music is an apology?” Ellie was still confused.
“No, but surf lessons are.” Dash gave her a hopeful smile. “And tickets to LA. Come back with me, spend the holidays in the sun for a change. You could stay, or keep travelling,” he added, as her head spun. “We could go together. Whatever you want.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was he for real?
“I don’t…” she stammered, trying to process it. “I mean…”
“Ellie.” Dash climbed the steps and took her hands. His were freezing, but she didn’t mind the cold, not with him close enough to touch again. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “You were right, I should never have gone behind your back like that. You’re the most important thing, I realize that now. I’ll delete the script, whatever you want.”
“No!” Ellie yelped.
Dash’s face fell.
“I mean, no, don’t delete it,” she hurried to explain. “It’s too good to lose. You need to make that movie, Dash. It’s going to be amazing!”
“But, I thought…” Dash frowned. “You said you hated it—”
“I was an idiot,” she interrupted him. “I didn’t read it all. But now I have, and I see what you were trying to do. I understand, it’s OK.”
“So you’re not mad anymore?” Dash asked slowly.
“No!” Ellie exclaimed, already overwhelmed. The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of emotion, and it was almost too much. “I’m sorry! For pushing you away and jumping to conclusions. I should have given you a real chance to explain,” she sniffled, feeling tears come—tears of relief, and happiness, that this story might get a happy ending for once. “I’m sorry.”
“So that makes two of us.”
Dash smiled at her, that devastating grin, and just like that, the pain and regret melted away, and Ellie knew that everything was going to be OK. Because he was there, and this was only the beginning.
He gently cupped her cheek and kissed he
r, softly, like he was afraid she’d disappear. But Ellie wasn’t going anywhere—not without him. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a real kiss: hard, and hot, and full of glorious heat that would put the California sun to shame. His arms wrapped tight around her, lifting her off her feet.
Ellie heard applause, and when they broke apart, she remembered that they had an audience. They clapped and whistled. Dash took her hand and bowed.
Ellie flushed, laughing. “I can’t believe you dragged half the town out to serenade me!”
“Are you kidding?” Dash hugged her closer. “They were happy to come. You know they all adore you.”
“They adore saving money on a professional bookkeeper.”
“No, they’re crazy about you,” Dash corrected. “And so am I.”
Ellie’s heart skipped. She squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“Coming back.”
Dash pulled her close again, his lips grazing Ellie’s ear as his body heat warmed her from the inside out.
“Sweetheart, our adventure is only just getting started.”
12
One Week Later…
The blue skies stretched cloudless overhead; not the pale icy blue back on the Cape, but a hazy glow, rippling with a soft ocean breeze and sunshine that warmed every inch of Ellie’s skin. She yawned, shifting in her lounger as she gazed out at the view: golden Malibu sands stretching down to the glittering ocean. Dash had borrowed a friend’s beach house for the week, and they’d done nothing but sunbathe and swim since the day they arrived.
Well, almost nothing else.
Ellie heard a noise behind her as Dash stepped out of the sliding glass doors with two glasses in his hands. “It’s not eggnog,” Dash teased, strolling over to join her. “But it’ll have to do.”
She took a sip of the delicious cocktail and let out a sigh of satisfaction. “If I never taste another cup of nog again, it’ll be too soon.”
“Not missing home yet then?” Dash sat beside her and draped one arm around her shoulder.
Ellie laughed. “What’s to miss: blocked up toilets and frozen pipes? No thank you. I’ll take a Malibu beach over freezing backwoods any day.”
Dash dropped a kiss on her temple. “Glad to hear it. But you will let me know if you’re feeling restless, won’t you? We can take a road trip, or vacation somewhere else. I don’t need to start pre-production for another month, and I know you wanted to get out and explore.”
She smiled up at him. “All my travel plans, they weren’t just about going somewhere. It was about getting out of town, trying something new. And I am, right here with you. Besides,” Ellie added, looking back at the ocean, “I could look at this view forever and not get bored.”
“Me too.”
When she turned, Dash was looking down at her. Ellie flushed, feeling her heart swell again, so full of happiness she half expected it to burst. Just like he’d promised, every day with Dash was a new adventure—and every night, a private discovery. They’d eaten in all the best restaurants, gone to all his favorite LA hotspots, and they’d even scouted locations for his next movie, but still Ellie’s favorite part of the trip was right there: the two of them, together.
The palm trees were pretty great, too.
Her phone buzzed from her beach bag. Ellie didn’t move. “That’ll just be my parents again,” she told him, relaxing back. “They want to know my plans.”
“Have you given any more thought to staying?”
She felt Dash’s lips graze her neck, his hands sliding lightly over her bare stomach. Ellie shivered. “You know how I feel about it,” he added, his mouth kissing lower.
“How’s that?” she teased.
“Pro,” Dash chuckled against her. “Definitely in favor.”
Ellie took a breath and tried to imagine it. For the first time in her life, her future was a blank page. Completely clear and full of potential. With her small savings hoarded all those years, she could go anywhere. Do anything.
Or stay right there in California. A fresh start—with Dash.
“If I stuck around,” Ellie said slowly, “what would I even do? For work, I mean. I don’t have a college degree, or any real qualifications.”
“Besides single-handedly organizing an entire town?” Dash lifted his head.
“You know what I mean. That’s not exactly a job.”
“Sure it is,” he chuckled. “Out here, we call that a producer, and pay them a fortune to keep things running on track.”
“A producer, hmm?” Her mind turned over the idea. She’d wrangled Sweetbriar into shape for years now. A movie set couldn’t be all that different.
Dash went back to kissing her. “And I’ve got a movie coming up that desperately needs someone cracking the whip. You’d be perfect. You are perfect,” he added, as his hands slid lower still.
She laughed. “Are you trying to talk me into bed?” Ellie teased, even as desire flooded through her. “You’re forgetting, I’m not impressed with you Hollywood hotshots.”
“No, ma’am,” Dash grinned. “I’m trying to talk you into forever.”
He kissed her as the sun beats down on them both, warm and bright, and full of possibilities.
THE END
Thank you for reading. It’s not the end for my Sweetbriar Cove series. See how the story continues in Book 6, NO ORDINARY LOVE.
Order now, and keep scrolling for a peek at the first chapter . . .!
Welcome to Sweetbriar Cove, where true love is guaranteed!
Book Five: No Ordinary Love
For journalist Eliza Bennett, summers in Sweetbriar Cove were her happiest childhood memories. Now that she’s been unceremoniously fired, evicted, and dumped (all in the same week), she hopes the small town will work its magic again and help get her life back on track. She definitely isn’t looking for a distraction like the handsome stranger she meets on her way into town… especially when she discovers he might be the man behind her recent misfortunes.
Cal Prescott is in Sweetbriar Cove adjusting to (or escaping from) his new role as head of the family company. He’s always prided himself on his cool logic, but reckoning with the outspoken spitfire, Eliza, is making him forget his responsibilities - and why falling in love would be such a bad idea.
The sparks between them are red-hot, and soon, their passion is heating up the summer nights. But can Eliza and Cal find a way through their differences - or will this opposites-attract romance burn out before it even begins?
Find out in the latest swoon-worthy Sweetbriar Cove romance from New York Times bestselling author, Melody Grace!
The Sweetbriar Cove Series:
1. Meant to Be
2. All for You
3. The Only One (August 2017)
4. I’m Yours (November 2017)
5. Holiday Kisses (A Christmas Story) (Dec 2017)
6. No Ordinary Love (Feb 2018)
1
Ever since she was a kid, summers for Eliza began with the drive out to Cape Cod.
The moment school was over, they loaded up the car: her and her older sister, Paige, crammed in the back of their faded Honda, squeezed between beach toys and books, and a cooler full of tuna-fish sandwiches. Their mom would complain about the traffic, and their dad would commandeer the radio with his old country mixtapes, but as the clogged freeway made way for the sandy two-lane highway, and that first glint of ocean glittered on the horizon, all the stress and arguments faded away.
Summer had arrived.
Even now, at twenty-seven, driving the familiar road alone with the brisk chill of Spring still in the air, Eliza could taste it. Melting ice cream, and saltwater taffy, evenings by the firepit, and mornings combing the rock-pools for new adventures. She crossed the Sagamore Bridge, the unofficial gateway to the Cape, and suddenly felt a well of sadness in her chest so sharp, she had to call Paige.
“Tell me you’re nearly here.” Her sister sounded harried.
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“Another hour away.”
Paige groaned. “Mom’s driving me crazy. I swear, she’s drawn up a list of every single man on the entire Cape, ranked by eligibility. Anyone would think we’re in a Jane Austen novel!”
Eliza laughed.
“She’s got one for you, too,” Paige warned.
“What?”
“I took a peek. How do you feel about Tommy McAllister?”
“Tommy? I used to babysit for him!” Eliza exclaimed. “He would run around with no pants on, mooning everyone on the beach.”
“And now he’s legal.” Paige giggled. “Hey, just be glad you get the toy-boys. I’ve got a couple of widowed bachelors on mine.”
Eliza sighed. “That woman is impossible. Someone needs to stage an intervention.”
“She’s just looking out for us.” Paige’s voice softened. “She’s probably just trying to distract herself. It can’t be easy, coming back here.”
“I know.”
Eliza’s heart ached again. It was just over a year since their father had passed away, a year of painful firsts that made the loss feel fresh, every time. She’d thrown herself into work and making new friends out in Sweetbriar Cove, moving on as best she could, but this was the first time the family was venturing back to the beach house—without him.
“Do you know why she asked us both to be out there?” Eliza asked, focusing on the road.
“You mean besides securing us good marriages?” Paige teased. “No, she hasn’t said what the big deal is. She probably wants us both there for moral support. You know she hasn’t even packed away his things yet.”
“How long can you stay?”
“Just a week.” Paige sounded reluctant. “Things are crazy at work right now, we have a big order due.” Paige was a designer for a kids’ clothing line. “But I figure we can both pop back on weekends if she needs. Will the newspaper give you any more time off?”
