Page 45 of Tinder Embrace
Melody had taught me the hard way that no woman would tolerate coming in second place to equipment failure. I had the divorce decree to prove it.
Our short-lived marriage after college had reinforced an important lesson: I was married to the farm and to our family business. Trying for something more would be unfair to Sophie with the next emergency just around the corner.
Even my mother hadn't been able to stick it out, bailing by the time Jo entered elementary school. Jo and I had started helping then with farm chores, as much out of necessity as because it was the only way to spend time with our dad. Since those early years, Pinkney Brewing had grown, and we'd hired employees who could manage most of the day-to-day operations, but the hops and brewing still took our daily focus.
Still, I couldn't close my eyes without seeing Sophie's face. Her round cheeks, sweet smile, and soft brown eyes called to me. I could imagine her curled on her side next to me, one hand beneath her cheek as she listened to me talk about my day.
I missed her.
The realization shook me. When Melody ended our marriage, I was hurt, but it hadn't really touched me. My softer feelings had been burned out by our constant arguments about how I spent my time.
It seemed unthinkable that Sophie had a deeper impact on me than my ex-wife. We'd only spent a couple of days together, but maybe that was the power of Sophie: she was nearly impossible to resist.
It was easy to see her colorful clothing and upbeat personality and believe that was all there was, but I’d witnessed enough of her quiet moments, her dedication to her students, to know that anyone who viewed Sophie as no more than a happy-go-lucky airhead missed the point entirely. She had a way of drawing me out, teasing me, and listening, even when I wasn’t saying much, that I craved. For the first time in memory, I wanted to share and bask in her easy comradery. She encouraged me to dig deeper, understand more of the woman who lurked behind the breezy front she presented to the rest of the world. The sexy woman underneath her glittery armor had seduced me with her big heart and ability to handle my gruff moments with grace.
Thinking about Sophie led to the inevitable physical result. The temptation to stroke it out hovered, but it felt wrong to pleasure myself with thoughts of her when I’d been the one to pull back. While fantasizing might ease my current frustration, it was an excuse to avoid what I really needed to do: apologize and try again with Sophie.
With a groan, I flipped over, willing my erection to subside. Focusing on ways to apologize cooled me quickly, afraid I’d fail to convince her to give me another chance. I'd traded one form of discomfort for another, but I held on to hope. My worry would be worth it if she gave me another shot.
***
Sunday morning was spent mopping up the mess we'd made of things with the chiller, but I couldn't stop thinking about Sophie and my next move. Did I text or try to see her in person? My cowardly instinct was to text, but if I really wanted to make things up to her, it'd probably take considerably more work than a few words on a screen to lift myself out of the hole I'd dug.
Deciding that flowers were a classic for a reason, I grabbed my garden shears and wandered to the border of daffodils that lined the back yard. Our mother had planted them years ago, and, unlike her, they came back year after year, their bright yellow blooms nodding in the wind.
The bitter reminder made me second-guess my gesture. Maybe bringing her something that reminded me of the past wasn't the olive branch I needed. Then again, it was time to make new memories. I snipped an armful of stems, determined to show Sophie and myself that the past didn't own me.
In the kitchen, I used wet paper towels and a plastic bag from beneath the sink to wrap my bounty.
"Are those for Sophie?"
Jo's question startled me. I should be used to her quiet appearance. Jo had a talent for creeping around the house like a ghost.
"Yes." I poked the bag at the base of my offering. "Something about this looks a little…"
"Frumpy?" Jo offered.
"Yeah."
"I think I have just the thing. Give me a sec." She disappeared, returning with a woven basket.
"Thanks, Jo." I plopped the flowers into her contribution.
"Much better."
"But maybe not enough," I muttered.
She sighed, shaking her head. Used to her stalling techniques, I waited her out.
"Youdohave a secret weapon," she said.
"What?"
She rolled her eyes. "The kittens. Frick and Frack would probably love a play date."
"I don't think Sophie's apartment allows pets."
"Maybe not permanently, but for a visit? You need every weapon in your arsenal."
