by Melody Grace
He sighed. What was he supposed to do, just turn around, go all the way back to Sweetbriar and beg for her forgiveness? Trash the best script he’d ever written and for what, the slim chance that their whirlwind romance could turn into something real?
Despite all the logical arguments playing out in his head, Dash realized he was playing with his phone, turning it over in his hands. The urge to hear Ellie’s voice was too strong to resist. He tapped to find the number at the inn and dialed.
It rang for a couple of beats. His heart was pounding.
Pull it together.
“Sweetbriar Inn, home of the Starbright Festival,” Ellie’s voice came down the line, so familiar it cut right through Dash’s chest. “How can I help you?”
He could picture her clear as day: leaning on the front desk, wearing another one of those crazy holiday sweaters, surrounded by the paperwork of some other small business she was busy rescuing.
“Hello?” she asked again, and he heard her stifling a yawn. “Can you hear me?”
There was another pause, then she hung up.
Dial tone.
Regret crashed through him, stronger than ever. He wanted to be right there with her, bringing a smile to those perfect lips, seeing the way her face changed when she was trying not to laugh.
He missed her.
He needed her.
He wanted that smile beside him, not just for a few days, but for good.
Damn.
The enormity of his mistake finally hit Dash, hard.
He had walked away. The first sign of trouble, and he’d bailed. He didn’t fight for her, he didn’t choose her the way he should have done. He’d let his own stupid insecurities and ambition drown out everything else, until he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
The best thing that had ever happened to him.
Ellie.
This was one situation a last-minute rewrite wouldn’t fix. No words on the page could mend what was broken between them. He couldn’t just sit around and imagine their happy ending. He had to make it happen.
Right now.
“Change of plans,” Dash told the cab driver. Luckily they were still stuck circling the airport, not even out on the freeway yet. “Drop me off at the car rental center, right here.”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t disagree. “Sure thing, man.”
Dash quickly used his phone to search for driving routes back out to Cape Cod. It was a six-hour drive at least, more in this weather. That meant he could be back to Ellie before the end of the day.
The thought felt so damn right, he didn’t need to question it anymore. All he had to do was figure out a way to make this right.
He would think of something. He had a long drive ahead of him.
Chapter 11
It was Christmas Eve, and Ellie was giving Scrooge a run for his money.
“Couldn’t you at least try to smile at the guests?” her older sister Charlotte sighed.
She gave a listless shrug, slumped on the couch in the lobby as Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore dragged their bags out to their cab. “Happy holidays!” Charlotte called after them. “Come stay again anytime.”
Ellie sank lower on the couch and reached for more candy.
“Nope, that’s it, I’m cutting you off.” Charlotte snatched away the bag of peanut brittle. “You’ve done nothing but wallow and eat all day.”
“You’re supposed to be in Boston,” Ellie pointed out. “I thought I’d get to wallow in peace.”
“And I thought you could use a break from work to enjoy the holidays,” Charlotte replied, shoving Ellie’s feet off the coffee table. “Little did I know, you were busy scaring everyone away.”
“They’re leaving because the festival is over,” Ellie pointed out, but that didn’t pacify her sister.
Charlotte put her hands on her hips and looks at Ellie. “I don’t understand, you knew this guy for like, two days. How are you this much of a mess?”
“I don’t know!” Ellie grabbed the candy back. “But I am, so can you please leave me to mope alone?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Will you at least have some soup to go with that sugar?”
“If you’re making it,” Ellie answered with a full mouth.
“I’ll be right down.” Charlotte patted her kindly on the head and went upstairs. Ellie shoved more candy into her mouth, but the sweet treat only made her head hurt. She’d barely slept last night after Dash left; she just kept running over the fight in her mind, reliving every terrible moment—and all the places where she could have just bitten her tongue and asked him to stay.
Now that her initial betrayal was fading, the anger had given way to sadness and a massive, aching regret. She’d had a glimpse of something great, and she’d let it slip away. Like those first snowflakes of winter that melted on your tongue, all that was left was the memory of their time together, haunting Ellie.
Dash was smart, and fun, and hot as hell, but more than that, he got her. The way they’d bantered and joked, how he didn’t mind her sarcasm or quick retorts. Other guys backed off, they thought she was too much to handle, but he’d been ready for the challenge: the chemistry between them building to the breaking point.
And when it had finally exploded…
Ellie buried her head in a pillow and let out a muffled groan. She was never going to find sex like that again. His hands…his body…his mouth. She would die a withered old crone, with only memories of their night together to keep her warm.
Great job, Ellie. Happy holidays to you.
She lifted her head in time to see Charlotte come downstairs with a trash bag. “Honestly,” she said, passing Ellie on her way outside. “It’s a mess up there. If you weren’t such a wreck right now, I’d be severely annoyed.”
Ellie cringed. “Sorry.”
She idly watched Charlotte through the door as she crossed the snow to the bins. Then it hit her. The trash. Dash’s memory stick.
His script.
“Wait!” She leapt up and shoved her feet into the nearest pair of snow boots. “Stop!”
But Charlotte didn’t hear her. She tossed the bag over the top of the dumpster as Ellie barreled breathlessly outside. “No!” she wailed, “I need something from in there.”
“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 Das
h 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 her, 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.”
Chapter 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 door
s 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?”