Discovering Sophie by Cindy Roland Anderson

about how poorly he’d slept his second night into their trip, and it wasn’t only because Sophie had had another nightmare. Just like the night before, he’d bolted from his tent to rush to her aid. But instead of getting a hug, this time he had found her fully alert and assuring him she was okay.
    Well, he wasn’t okay.
    He had dreamed about her again, but this time it was about something much more disturbing than him trying to rescue her. In it, he wore a tuxedo and stood inside a church, waiting for her to join him as she made her way down a long aisle wearing a shimmering white wedding dress.
    He hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. Why on earth would he dream about a wedding—no, their wedding? It was absurd, and this growing fascination he felt for her needed to be dealt with. Getting involved with a woman who already had a serious boyfriend was wrong. Besides, how could he really trust someone who had purposely deceived him twice?
    He cradled his tin mug of coffee and stared at Sophie’s tent. She was awake. He could hear her moving around and softly humming. Glancing around, Jack wondered what was taking Hector so long. He’d gone to use the latrine twenty minutes ago. For some reason, Jack didn’t feel like being alone with her.
    Taking a sip of the hot brew, he heard the tent door unzip and the humming stop as she stepped out.
    He swallowed the bitter liquid and studied her through half-lidded eyes. She wore tan cargo pants and a fitted brown tee. Like yesterday, she had on very little makeup. She looked good. A little too good.
    When their eyes met, Jack’s chest tightened with conflicting emotions. Fighting the hold she had on him, he scowled at her. Her chin rose, and she returned the glare—a challenge in her eyes.
    “Don’t you ever look homely?” he finally asked.
    “Is that a rhetorical question?”
    He tried not to laugh. “I just figured after you kept me up most of the night, it should only be fair that you look as bad as I feel.”
    “I’m sorry about the bad dream.” She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe I should put my tent somewhere else.”
    “Yeah,” he snorted, “like maybe back where you came from.”
    A flash of anger darkened her eyes. “Do you have a split personality?”
    “What?”
    She stalked over and stood right in front of him. “I asked you if you have a split personality. You know, dramatic mood swings.”
    What is she insinuating? Slowly, he stood up and leaned down close to her face. “Maybe I do.”
    “Oh,” she said, delicately lifting one eyebrow.
    His answer dispelled some of her anger. But, to be honest, since he’d met her, yes, he’d say he had a split personality. Heck, he couldn’t keep up with his mood swings. He was a man—he shouldn’t be having mood swings!
    Acutely aware of how close they stood, Jack clenched his hands, fighting the urge to pull her to him. Her glossy lips looked inviting. How could he be so annoyed by her one minute and then have the desire to kiss her senseless the next? So maybe he was nuts.
    “You’re the doctor. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with me.”
    Her lips slowly curved up. “You admit there’s something wrong with you?”
    Maybe . “I—” The sweet scent of her lip gloss drew his attention back to her mouth, and he could swear she just inched a little closer. She was the one driving him crazy.
    “What flavor are you wearing today?” Jack asked in a low voice.
    Sophie’s brown eyes grew large. “What?”
    “Your lips, Doctor.”
    He felt a stab of disappointment when she took a step backward. “It’s…uh.” She withdrew the product from her pocket and looked down. “Watermelon Sorbet.”
    Having effectively changed the subject of his sanity, Jack didn’t make a comment about how delicious the ridiculous name of her lip gloss sounded. She really would think he was loco .
    They needed to break camp and get moving. The sooner he found her father—the sooner he could get rid of her.
    Jack