Finding Herself Read online

  She breached the mouth of the trail, enjoying the sound of her boots crunching through brittle, frozen snow. Simon seemed to have an extra pep in his step.

  ‘You live for this, don’t you, boy?’ she said. ‘This is your element.’

  He simply huffed, trotting along, leading the way. Getting to the trail itself had been a good 15-minute walk and now she found herself clumping through the woods with nothing but a flashlight and a Husky to help her out.

  ‘You’ve lost your mind,’ she muttered. ‘There could be serial killers and rapists and – bears – out here. Well, probably not bears. But still.’

  She’d tucked her pocket knife in her coat pocket. A habit she’d gotten into because of her father. The year she’d turned ten he’d given her her very own pocket knife and he’d drilled it into her over and over again that she should always have one. ‘They’re not just for boys,’ he’d said. ‘Everyone should be prepared.’

  And so she had been. She’d plotted everything. Her career, her future home, her dog. But she’d never thought to plot out her love life. Could you even do that? Sophie had always figured it would take care of itself. That she’d find a man, get swept up in him and him in her. She’d fall in love and have good sex and say “I do” and eventually maybe bring small people into the world.

  But no man had ever swept her away. Not even the ones who had told her they loved her. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d never reciprocated that sentiment. She knew for a fact one man who’d told her that had received an awkward and sad “Thank you” in response.

  ‘But that’s in the past,’ she told herself. Though a new fear filled her. Would she find love, or something along those lines, if she was looking for it?

  Did she really want to look or was it that she thought she should?

  ‘Now I’m just scaring the shit out of myself,’ she said to the dog. He wasn’t listening. He was leading her along, his paws padding over the untouched snow. The deeper they got, the more pristine it was. People were finding it too cold to hike.

  Sophie had no idea how long she walked with Simon. Long enough to lose the feeling in her face despite the fleece band across the lower half. Her whole body felt chilled and slow and yet the sky was lightening to a lovely shade of periwinkle. She didn’t want to miss it.

  Would she freeze to death if she tried to wait for sunrise? Doubtful. It just might feel like it.

  ‘I’m not going to work,’ she told the dog. ‘And I have to stop talking to you so much. It’s something a crazy person would do.’

  She’d text Temperance, let her know she was working from home today. The luxury of being a magazine writer. You often got to traipse all over the place in the name of work. Today she’d do exactly what she’d been assigned. She’d find part of herself. Even some small part would work for her.

  Simon pulled her to a ledge of rocks. Giant boulders laid out and staggered before a small waterfall. During the day, with the sun beating down on the varied shades of brown and grey, this area looked like some giant sleeping serpent’s back. It was richer and slicker in the dark. Like black mountains in the gloom. She walked faster, trying to keep up with Simon, who snuffled along happily.

  Finally, she sat. She pulled his lead so that he obeyed and sat too, then she unclipped him. As the sky began to lighten to pink, she put her chin in her hand and watched the show. Just as the sun started to penetrate the gloom, just as bits of orange and yellow could be spotted, she groaned aloud, ‘What am I going to do?’

  A voice answered. ‘For starters, sit back and watch this gorgeous sunrise.’

  Chapter Six

  Sophie let out a strangled cry, but Simon just thumped his tail and sat beside her. No growl. No menace. No hackles up and certainly no aggression. She let herself relax just a bit.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you sitting there. I just –’

  ‘Shh,’ the man said. ‘Here it comes. The snow clouds have passed. They passed around four this morning.’

  Another early bird like me, she thought, only mildly annoyed that he’d shushed her. He was just a darker shadow in the purpling gloom. Soon she’d see who it was telling her when to speak and when to hush.

  The thought bled away with the lightening of the sky. Even Simon was transfixed. Or it might have been the birds who hadn’t fled the cold for warmer climes keeping him alert. The forest sounds increased as the sun rose.

  When she finally broke her eyes from the ice cream-coloured hues of morning, she found herself looking at a stunning specimen of man. His face lit orange and pink and lemon yellow. His hair was dark. She couldn’t tell if it was black or brown but it was slightly wavy, falling just a bit over his brow. His face was handsome without being pretty, chiselled without looking artificial. Yes, he was just the perfect amount of handsome, she decided, and then chuckled at the judgmental thought.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ He smiled, full lips curving up into a nice smile. The kind of smile that a person open to the world and comfortable in their skin owned.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Oh, come on. We’re sunrise buddies. Surely you can tell me.’ He cocked his head and picked at a spot on his jeans.

  Like her, he wore jeans and boots. A big parka and gloves. That was all she could tell for certain in the spotlight the sun had created.

  Sophie swallowed hard. ‘I just thought, looking at you, that you were –’ She shook her head and looked away. Patted Simon to give her hands something to do.

  ‘What? I was what? Dangerous? Deranged? A serial killer?’

  ‘No. But are you?’ she asked, only half teasing.

  He sighed. ‘Nope. Nothing nearly that interesting. So tell me, morning buddy, what it was.’

  She figured what the hell, right? ‘I thought that you were just the right amount of handsome.’

  He cocked his head again and then grinned. The grin made her stomach feel warm and syrupy. The rest of her was quickly following suit. Not what she’d anticipated when she’d set out this morning into the frigid blackness of an early winter morning.

  ‘Well, thanks!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She looked away, studied a birch tree that seemed to be bowing down to kiss the earth. She loved birches. Maybe she should just go investigate …

  ‘For thinking I’m handsome? God, I’m not. If more women thought that I’d probably date more.’ He laughed. Then he made a welcoming click with his tongue and, to her surprise, Simon got up and left 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 about inventing yourself.’

  The idea smacked Sophie in the head and she let out a surprised little gasp. Then she dropped his hand. Her body moved faster than her brain. She levered herself over the small table, grabbed his head and plunging her still chilled fingers into his thick, brown hair, and kissed him. His tongue was warm and soft, and after just one surprised second he kissed her back. Touching her jaw so that the energy from his fingers shivered up her face, under her skin, across her scalp.

  Her mouth opened further and she sucked his tongue gently. He made a desperate noise.

  ‘We’re making quite a display,’ she said. Simon sat under the table at her feet. The screened-in patio area was deserted but for them. But people inside could see. People on the sidewalk could see.

  ‘Who cares?’ he answered, touching her cheek, kissing her again.

  ‘God, don’t think I’m crazy.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Don’t think … Well, don’t think anything bad of me,’ she whispered.

  He pulled back a bit, stared her in the eye. Blue eyes, she saw. Blue like the sky in fall right before the weather gets cold. ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Because I’m going to ask you to come home with me.’

  ‘I can do that.’ His eyes were bright as he regarded her. ‘But only if you really want me to.’

  ‘I do. Do you think that’s nuts?’

  ‘A little.’ He shrugged, sitting back and taking her hand again. His skin was warm and so was his expression. ‘But Sophie, often the best things in life are. Crazy is how some of the greatest things have come into being.’

  They walked. Him telling her about the transition between banking and animals. She nodded and wished she had the nerve to take his hand when he said, ‘It is much more pleasant dealing with people all day who are distraught or concerned over their pets than their money. There’s a big gap between adoring your furry friends and some dead presidents stamped on paper.’

  ‘I’d imagine so. You seem …’ She looked down at Simon, watched her feet.

  ‘Deranged? Maniacal? Brilliant?’ He teased. Took her hand in his and squeezed. It was an oddly intimate gesture for two people who’d just met and yet …

  Feels right …

  ‘You can’t leave a sentence like that hanging, Sophie. It’s just unfair. Especially since I have an overwhelming need to know what’s going on in that head of yours.’

  ‘You seem so in tune with yourself. So OK with it all.’ She growled, remembering her assignment. ‘It’s what I want to be. It just seems so impossible.’

  He nodded, swinging her hand once, squeezing, letting go to shove his hands deep in his pockets. ‘That’s because it is impossible. Until it isn’t any more.’

  ‘Thanks for clearing that up.’ She laughed, stopping short.

  ‘What? You’re ditching me because of my cryptic comment. Give me a minute, I’ll think of another.’ He chuckled.

  ‘Nope. This is my place. Are you coming up with me, Tate?’

  He brushed a stray hair from her cheek and swept his thumb across her bottom lip. Sophie had to fight the urge to kiss it. It was insane, really, the whole damn day. She never should have brought him here. Never should have jumped into this head first, yet her body ignored all the stuff her mind said and lit up like someone had plugged her in. She felt glowing and alive and … terrified, but in an utterly good way.

  He gave her a mischievous look. ‘Lead the way.’

  Chapter Seven

  He paused inside her front door, taking in the white wicker furniture, the high ceilings, the butter yellow walls. A few tapestries and giant corkboards filled with pictures and notes for her columns and the occasional short fiction piece she’d try her hand at.

  ‘You’re a very happy person,’ he said, nodding.

  ‘At the moment I’m a very frustrated person.’

  ‘I mean intrinsically,’ he said, taking off his coat.

  Sophie paused to admire what was under the coat. The patio had been only semi-heated so he’d simply opened his parka a bit. Now he pulled it off and revealed an enticing figure to go with the rest of his looks. His body was cut and lean, but not pumped up like he spent hours in the gym doing reps and gazing at himself in a floor to ceiling mirror. This was a body that came from life. Hiking and maybe climbing and just being active.

  Her fingers itched to run up and down the almost visible ladder of his belly muscles. The Henley he wore clung to him just enough – thank you, static electricity – for her to make out how toned he was.

  He caught her looking, gave her a half smile.

  She blushed and looked away, taking off her own coat. ‘Can I get you something? Food? Water? Juice?’

  When she turned back he’d moved in closer. He put his hands on her upper arms and she had just a heartbeat where she wondered if she’d misjudged him. But his grip was soft enough that she knew she could break free if she needed to – or, really, she knew he’d let her go.

  ‘Do it,’ he said.

  Sophie blinked, unsure of what he meant. The fact that there was barely a six-inch space between them and she could feel his energy slinking up against hers wasn’t helping.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Whatever it is you’ve wanted to do since getting this assignment. It’s weighing on you. So what is it? What do you want to let out?’

  She cocked h
er head and studied him. She meant to laugh, she really did. Laugh and blow it off. Instead, she put her head back, face to the ceiling, opened her mouth and yelled. A long, loud, primal whoop that ricocheted off the ceilings like a restless wraith.

  She didn’t stop until her lungs felt fit to explode and her throat felt scratchy. But her body felt looser and empty and supple again. Her soul didn’t feel as anxious and clogged. She felt lighter. Better. Like all her nerve endings had woken up and were buzzing with activity. Or maybe part of that was the fact his hands were still on her.

  ‘Now you,’ she said, not making any move to step back from him. She was perfectly content to be this close. To have his hands on her and to be staring into those shocking blue eyes.

  ‘Me what?’ His lips twisted into a smile.

  ‘You do something you’ve wanted to do.’

  She had no idea why she said it, but she was sure glad she had when he closed the gap between them by stepping closer and framing her face in his hands. At first, he kissed her so softly it was mesmerising. Without realising it, she started to hum as if she were one of those singing bowls and he’d struck just the right chord by kissing her.

  He dragged his tongue along her lower lip. ‘You know that’s a good sign, right?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The humming. It means –’

  ‘I’m nuts?’ she interrupted. Her hands settled on his trim hips and she wished he’d just stop talking and kiss her again.

  ‘No. It means we’re resonating.’ Then he did shut up and kiss her again, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head to steady her. His tongue penetrating more aggressively, stroking against hers, taking her mouth in a more demanding kiss.

  She felt her knees go watery and was grateful that he was kind of actually holding her up.

  His free hand gripped her wrist and she jumped. The sensation of his skin on her skin, right above her pulse point, was electric in a nearly staggering way. It startled her how much of a tingle and a buzz could come from a single touch.