her. He walked eagerly over to the stranger, dropped at his feet, and allowed himself to be adored. ‘He’s a lover. What’s his name?’
‘Traitor,’ Sophie groaned. When the man looked up she shook her head. ‘Just kidding. His name is Simon. And he’s a bad boy.’ But she didn’t say it in her angry voice because Simon was clearly enamoured with the new person. She didn’t want to harsh his happiness. And if he trusted the guy, she shouldn’t be afraid.
‘I’m Tate, by the way,’ the man said and nodded to her.
That smile. Oh God, that smile. ‘Sophie.’
A flock of birds took off in the woods and she saw their black mass rise above the naked treetops, swirling like an ink stain for an instant in the now pink sky.
‘What are you doing here so early, Sophie?’ he asked, breath pluming out of him.
‘Trying to find the missing piece of me. Finding myself,’ she muttered, a bit annoyed and suddenly scared all over again. Why the hell had she just told him that?
‘Ah, a time-honoured tradition. So, have you found anything?’ He patted Simon and then regarded her again. His eyes – blue, maybe green, hard to tell in the sunlight – regarded her kindly.
‘That I am more confused than I ever imagined before I started examining it all.’
He chuckled. ‘Welcome to the club.’
Simon put his paw into the stranger’s hand for a shake. His one and only trick. Something he only whipped out when he really wanted to impress a person. As far as tricks went, he was pretty damn lazy. Sophie smiled. ‘You have a fan.’
‘So does he.’
Her heart picked up tempo as she realised what she was about to do. But she planned to take the day off and … well, fuck it. ‘Can I ask you something, Tate?’
‘Sure.’
‘Would you let me buy you a cup of coffee?’
‘No –’
Her heart dropped.
‘But I’ll let you buy me a cup of green tea.’
She smiled. ‘Green tea it is. Though I must tell you …’ She snorted before she could stop herself. ‘It tastes like dirty dishwater to me.’
He laughed. ‘To each her own.’
‘True,’ Sophie said.
They sat there for a few more minutes as the sluggishly moving waterfall came fully into view. She followed him out of the woods, wondering what the hell she thought she was doing.
Taking a chance. That’s what.
He was a veterinary assistant. No shock there.
‘Used to work in banking. I find animals much more soothing than money.’
Sophie sipped her coffee. ‘I’d imagine so.’
‘You?’
‘Magazine writer. Love my job, until I get –’
‘That assignment that touches a bit too close to home.’
She put her head down. ‘Yes. I guess I’m just a wuss. I had no idea my editor would demand I find myself, for God’s sake!’
They had cookies and a muffin split down the middle, yet the thought of food was too much. Her stomach was in a fluttering mess of excitement. Because of him? She could only assume. Don’t find something that isn’t there, her mind warned her. She was looking for something, so surely she’d trick herself into thinking that he – Tate Nicholls, he’d told her – was that missing piece.
That didn’t stop her stupid stomach, though.
‘Yeah, but …’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Sorry.’
‘But what?’
‘Hey,’ he said, touching her hand. Electricity shot up her arm and she turned her hand to take his without thinking. He studied their hands – now lightly entwined – and smiled. ‘The last thing I want to be is a person spewing platitudes at you when you were so honest with me. I can’t be that person.’
‘What person?’
‘The ones who walk around giving you one-liners as if they’re Buddha.’ He laughed at himself.
‘Tell me.’
He shrugged, looking suddenly shy and uncertain. The change in demeanour made him even more appealing to Sophie. She thought she should be careful, but she didn’t care. ‘I don’t think life is about finding yourself,’ Tate said. ‘I think it’s
‘Traitor,’ Sophie groaned. When the man looked up she shook her head. ‘Just kidding. His name is Simon. And he’s a bad boy.’ But she didn’t say it in her angry voice because Simon was clearly enamoured with the new person. She didn’t want to harsh his happiness. And if he trusted the guy, she shouldn’t be afraid.
‘I’m Tate, by the way,’ the man said and nodded to her.
That smile. Oh God, that smile. ‘Sophie.’
A flock of birds took off in the woods and she saw their black mass rise above the naked treetops, swirling like an ink stain for an instant in the now pink sky.
‘What are you doing here so early, Sophie?’ he asked, breath pluming out of him.
‘Trying to find the missing piece of me. Finding myself,’ she muttered, a bit annoyed and suddenly scared all over again. Why the hell had she just told him that?
‘Ah, a time-honoured tradition. So, have you found anything?’ He patted Simon and then regarded her again. His eyes – blue, maybe green, hard to tell in the sunlight – regarded her kindly.
‘That I am more confused than I ever imagined before I started examining it all.’
He chuckled. ‘Welcome to the club.’
Simon put his paw into the stranger’s hand for a shake. His one and only trick. Something he only whipped out when he really wanted to impress a person. As far as tricks went, he was pretty damn lazy. Sophie smiled. ‘You have a fan.’
‘So does he.’
Her heart picked up tempo as she realised what she was about to do. But she planned to take the day off and … well, fuck it. ‘Can I ask you something, Tate?’
‘Sure.’
‘Would you let me buy you a cup of coffee?’
‘No –’
Her heart dropped.
‘But I’ll let you buy me a cup of green tea.’
She smiled. ‘Green tea it is. Though I must tell you …’ She snorted before she could stop herself. ‘It tastes like dirty dishwater to me.’
He laughed. ‘To each her own.’
‘True,’ Sophie said.
They sat there for a few more minutes as the sluggishly moving waterfall came fully into view. She followed him out of the woods, wondering what the hell she thought she was doing.
Taking a chance. That’s what.
He was a veterinary assistant. No shock there.
‘Used to work in banking. I find animals much more soothing than money.’
Sophie sipped her coffee. ‘I’d imagine so.’
‘You?’
‘Magazine writer. Love my job, until I get –’
‘That assignment that touches a bit too close to home.’
She put her head down. ‘Yes. I guess I’m just a wuss. I had no idea my editor would demand I find myself, for God’s sake!’
They had cookies and a muffin split down the middle, yet the thought of food was too much. Her stomach was in a fluttering mess of excitement. Because of him? She could only assume. Don’t find something that isn’t there, her mind warned her. She was looking for something, so surely she’d trick herself into thinking that he – Tate Nicholls, he’d told her – was that missing piece.
That didn’t stop her stupid stomach, though.
‘Yeah, but …’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Sorry.’
‘But what?’
‘Hey,’ he said, touching her hand. Electricity shot up her arm and she turned her hand to take his without thinking. He studied their hands – now lightly entwined – and smiled. ‘The last thing I want to be is a person spewing platitudes at you when you were so honest with me. I can’t be that person.’
‘What person?’
‘The ones who walk around giving you one-liners as if they’re Buddha.’ He laughed at himself.
‘Tell me.’
He shrugged, looking suddenly shy and uncertain. The change in demeanour made him even more appealing to Sophie. She thought she should be careful, but she didn’t care. ‘I don’t think life is about finding yourself,’ Tate said. ‘I think it’s
Similar Books
