Page 25 of Plot Twist
“How did it go?” He took the opportunity to be nosy. He was, admittedly, a little relieved that Ned was married, but he’d keep that thought to himself.
She tucked a loose strand of hair into her bun as she answered. “Uh, yeah, kind of a disaster. Ned and I got in a fight. Or a disagreement? It was hard to tell. And I didn’t get to really dig into our problems or ask my questions.” Sophie shook her head and let out an exhausted breath. “This just feels like a total bust.”
“I don’t know, the car ride was fun.” The words slipped out of Dash, and his chest tightened at the realization that he’d just revealed the secret truth that he’d enjoyed spending time with her. Sophie watched him with the same level of interest as a kitten who’d just discovered a laser pen, but Brittany interrupted.
“What we have here is a cracked hose.” She pointed into the engine. Dash broke his gaze on Sophie, then stepped off the curb and toward the car. He looked down to where she pointed, where a hose was visibly disconnected. “You’re going to need a new cooling hose before you can take her on the road again. Don’t worry, I know a guy who can fix this.”
“How long does that take?”
“If they have the part, probably just two hours.” Brittany squinted against the bright sun shining down on them, then closed the hood.
“My brother has a tractor and a chain,” Ned offered. “He can tow you to the shop.”
Dash felt inclined to say, “Don’t bring up tractors in front of Sophie. She has a Pavlovian response.”
Sophie’s elbowed him. “Please don’t mention my kinks in front of company.”
This was a private joke between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met a new person and grown close enough to have one of those. Which must be why a little shot of adrenaline ran through him and caused his fingers to dance in his pockets.
Brittany ignored them, or didn’t care, as she continued to talk. “By the time we get the car to a shop, they inspect it, and give you a price, it’s going to be five, and they’ll tell you to come back tomorrow.”
Dash grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. This was not ideal. He’d planned for a day trip and didn’t know what this was turning into, exactly. “So, what, we’ll need to stay here?”
“I’m so sorry, Dash.” Sophie’s hand felt cool on his bicep, and he involuntarily flexed against her grip. Her eyes flitted from his arm to his lips before she dropped her hand and blinked rapidly. “You brought your car all the way out here. I feel awful.”
“I should’ve taken her in for a tune-up before the trip.” He shrugged, mainly because there wasn’t much else to do.
“What should we do, if they can’t fix it today?” Sophie asked Dash. “There are a lot of nearby hotels.”
He was about to respond, but Brittany did that for him.
“It’s the Ojai music festival this weekend.” Brittany fanned her face with her hand. “All of the hotels are booked solid. We have a guesthouse—it’s small, but all set up. My mom is going to stay with us for the first few months after the baby comes.”
“I can’t ask you to let us stay at your place,” Sophie protested.
“I know we got off on the wrong foot today, but we were friends once. It’s really not a bother for you to stay the night.” Ned rubbed Brittany’s back as he spoke.
“Dash?” Sophie angled herself away from them and spoke softly enough so only he would hear. “I don’t love this any more than you do, but I don’t know that we have another choice.”
Dash did not really want to stay at this random couple’s home, even though Brittany had done him a massive favor by inspecting his car. He just didn’t know her or Ned.
“It’s not a problem,” Dash said. “I can call hotels near Ojai and we can Lyft there.”
“You don’t want to say no to a pregnant woman, especially a hormonal one.” Brittany slung an arm around Ned’s waist. “You’re staying with us.”
Sophie shot him a look, and he tried to read her expression. Something about the way her eyes slightly widened told him resistance was futile.
“Okay, we’ll be happy to stay, then,” Dash finally said.
The promised tractor came twenty minutes later, and despite them being on the main street with all of the local shops, no one seemed fazed in the slightest to see an enormous piece of farming equipment rumbling toward them.
Except for Sophie, whose smile stretched across her face as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “That’s a John Deere 7R 350,” Sophie whispered, as if the tractor might hear. “Won Tractor of the Year last year.”
“How do you know that?” he said, laughing.
“I’d been toying with writing a book about a tractor-riding shero.” Sophie crossed her arms and nodded to the tractor. “Research was needed.”
“Admit it.” Dash leaned in so close that his lips brushed her ear as he said, “You have a subscription toTractor Weekly.”
