I sigh and turn to Sophie, who’s perched on the edge of the table, arms folded across her chest.
“I said the shop has been crazy recently.” Sophie rolls her eyes. “And I was asking why you never come in.”
“Ladies’ clothing isn’t really my thing,” I answer, a little too quickly.
“But women are,” she teases with a playful smile. “You can’t be that immune to them.”
I laugh, shaking my head. Sophie’s always been way too good at getting under my skin. “I like to think I’m more than just my ability to be a man of mystery.”
Sophie raises an eyebrow and leans in. “Alright, mystery man. Well, listen up. I met a really cool woman the other day I’m sure you would have liked. Dakota something… I can’t remember.”
I freeze for just a second. My heart does that weird little skipping-a-beat thing.Dakota? What are the chances?
“Dakota?” I ask, trying to keep casual. “What about her?”
Sophie grins, clearly catching onto my sudden interest. “Yeah, she came in with Violet. We talked for a while. Super nice, funny, and just really easy to talk to. She seemed like someone you’d get along with.”
I try not to lean forward too much, but it’s harder than I expected. My mind’s suddenly buzzing, and I can’t stop the questions from flooding in.
Did she seem interested? Did she like you? But I push those aside. Now is not the time to start analyzing every little thing.
“Sounds like you hit it off,” I say, keeping light but my pulse a little faster than it should be.
“Oh, we did,” Sophie says with a nod. “She’s got a cool vibe, you know? Kind of… refreshing.”
“You like her?”
I lean back in my chair, trying to act nonchalant, but inside, I’m anything but calm. My mind’s a mess of images: Dakota’s auburn hair, those soft brown eyes, the way she looked the last time I saw her.
“Yeah,” Sophie says, and there’s a playful glint in her eyes. “You know, Reid, you should give her a shot. I think you’d get along. There’s just something about her. I think she’dgetyou, you know?”
Get me?
What the hell is Sophie going on about? This is too much.
Mom’s voice cuts through the tension. “If you two are done gossiping, the food’s ready. Help me bring everything to the table, would you?”
I nod, grateful for the distraction.
As we walk toward the dining table, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the hallway mirror. I don’t recognize the guy staring back at me.
The guy who’s been talking about the ranch, making jokes, throwing himself into work to distract from the gnawing feeling in his chest. The guy who’s been trying to bury the way his heart races whenever Dakota’s name comes up.
But I can’t ignore it anymore.
We settle into our seats, the table heavy with the spread of Thanksgiving classics. Turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing. All the usual suspects. But I can barely focus on the food.
My eyes keep drifting over to Sophie, then back to Mom, then, damn it, I find myself staring at the empty space across from me, imagining what it would be like if Dakota was sitting there.
She’d probably be rolling her eyes at me, laughing at some ridiculous comment I made. She’d be talking about Charlie, and I’d be listening, really listening for the first time in… who knows how long.
This isn’tme.
I never get attached in this way.
But I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Reid,” Mom says, snapping me out of my daydreams. “Are you going to eat, or just stare at your plate?”
