by Karen Booth
* * *
We ordered breakfast from room service, and the dining room table in our bungalow was laden with food. Neither of us wanted to cook, and by now most of our groceries had run out, anyway. We would be flying home tomorrow, our trip coming to a close.
While we ate, I thought about all of the touristy things Spencer and I had done. One of my favorite places was Griffith Observatory. Not only was the hilltop view specular, portions of Rebel Without a Cause had been filmed there. Yep, the location where James Dean had worn his iconic red jacket. Fashion was everything to me, especially with how hard I’d worked to become a stylist. If I lived in LA, I would probably be dressing movie-industry people instead of country music personalities, like in Nashville.
“What do you want to do today?” Spencer asked. “Any ideas of where you’d like to go?”
I opted for something personal. “You can take me to your old high school.” I explained my interest in it by saying, “I’m curious to see where you misspent your youth.”
He cocked his head. “As opposed to where you misspent yours?”
“I went to a public school with overcrowded classes and overworked teachers. And besides earning a slutty reputation and having my name written on various walls and desks, I was always in detention with the other misfits.”
“Spending your Saturdays in the library?”
“Not quite.” I crinkled my nose. “Our punishment was picking up trash in the yard, like some sort of prison road crew.”
He lifted his brows. “What was the nature of your crimes?”
“Mostly I got into trouble for mouthing off to my teachers.” I’d always had an aversion to authority.
An amused look appeared on his face. “Now, why am I not surprised?” The amusement faded when he said, “I attended a private academy. Rigid, disciplined. The kind that’s supposed to keep its students in line.”
I watched him cut into his pancakes. “I’ll bet you found plenty of ways to break the rules.”
“I got suspended a few times. But they never expelled me. I was a bit of an enigma back then. A troubled kid who always made the honor roll. As messed up as I was, I was still a good student.”
“Not me. I was lucky that I graduated and finally buckled down in college.” I tasted my eggs Florentine. We’d gotten separate entrees, but we were sharing a fresh fruit platter and a basket of muffins. “Can we go to your old school? I just want to see the outside of it.” I didn’t expect to wander the halls with him.
“If you insist. But it’s just a big stuffy campus with rich kids in preppy uniforms.”
“I still want to see it.”
“All right, but please don’t ask me to drive by my aunt and uncle’s place.”
“I would never do that.” I knew better than to subject him to revisiting the home he’d hated. “Besides, it’s a gated community, isn’t it?”
“I still know people in that area, and I could get in if I wanted to. But I prefer being locked out.” He blew out a noisy breath. “I keep hearing that you’re supposed to forgive the people who hurt you. Not for them, but for yourself. But it’s not easy, letting the pain go.”
“That’s how I feel about Kirby.”
“Yes, but Kirby wants to repair the damage he caused.” He softened his voice. “You’re like family to him, Alice. You should give him a chance.”
I tensed, my spine going stiff. “He’s not my family.”
“He could be if you’d let him.”
“Why? Because he’s related to my sister’s husband? Your aunt is family and look how awful she was to you.”
“My aunt doesn’t give a crap about me. But Kirby cares about you, more than you realize.”
“I’m so sick of you taking his side.” I got up to leave the table, stomping over to the living room.
Spencer followed me. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
I glared at him, standing my ground. “Why can’t you take my side for once?”
“And why can’t you accept that Kirby cares about you?”
I scoffed, and he reached for me, ever so gently, ever so warm. He had a knack for doing that. I tried to wriggle away from him, but he wouldn’t let me go. I shivered, hating the effect he had on me.
Hating it. Loving it. Feeling confused by it.
“You can’t be all nice now,” I said. “It isn’t fair.”
“I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“And making me want you.” In spite of how angry I was, I caressed his face, skimming the back of my hand along his beard stubble. It was impossible not to touch him.
He leaned forward. “Now who’s making who want who?”
I pulled him closer, rubbing my body against his. I played with his hair, wondering how it would look if he grew it long.
We stripped each other bare and stumbled into bed, almost as if as we were drunk on each other. It wasn’t a reference I should’ve used, but it was the only one that came to mind. As I moaned and sighed, he traced my temporary tattoo, peppering my skin with warm, wet kisses.
He used his tongue between my legs, and I gripped the sheet, tugging on the material, eager to come. I knew it wouldn’t take long. I was already losing my sense of reason. I closed my eyes, going hot and damp.
Suddenly I couldn’t remember anyone else ever making me this aroused. Only him. I climaxed, making throaty sounds, bucking against his face.
I opened my eyes and saw that strong, handsome face. I reached out to trace the sharp edges of his cheekbones.
We switched places, and I used my mouth on him, giving him the same intimate pleasure that he’d just given me. He stopped me before I went too far, even if his muscles were quavering, even if I could’ve taken him all the way.
I took charge of the condom, rolling it over every big, hard inch. He groaned and entered me, pushing deep inside. I clasped my legs around him, squeezing tight.
I didn’t want to go home tomorrow. Or maybe I just didn’t want to go back to living alone. I liked sharing this space with him, sleeping beside him each night and waking up with him each morning.
But I had to stop thinking about things like that. Once we were back in Nashville, I couldn’t let him matter so much.
* * *
My plan didn’t work. We’d been back in Nashville for a month now, and the more time I spent with Spencer, the more important he became. I was knee-deep in our affair and protecting my heart, too. By now, I was beginning to want more. But his feelings hadn’t changed, not as far as I could tell.
On this sunny afternoon, I arrived at his house, with a stack of copies of the magazine he was featured in. I’d gone downtown to get them, to an old brick-and-mortar bookstore. I had a digital copy on my iPad, but I wanted hard copies, too.
I rang the bell, but he didn’t answer. I tried the door and found it unlocked. He’d obviously left it that way for me.
I set down the magazines and called his name. He didn’t respond, so I searched for him. Finally, I spotted him in the backyard with Cookie and Candy, playing fetch with them. It made me wonder if he would be good with kids, too.
Not that I should care, I told myself. Spencer wasn’t going to be the father of my children. At some point, our affair would be over.
I went outside to greet him, and the dogs dashed over to me. They wagged their tails, rolling over at my feet. I scooped both of them up and nuzzled their furry heads.
Spencer watched me, and I leaned over and embraced him, with the dogs between us. He laughed when one of them pawed at his shirt. They were his babies. For now, they were mine, too. But someday, I still wanted the human variety.
I released the dogs and said, “I got the magazine. I bought all of the copies they had.”
“I don’t understand why you want so many of them.”
“Because I have a crush on you.” I fanned my fac
e, pretending to swoon, even if the feeling was real. “Let’s go look at it together.”
He ducked his head, embarrassed by my enthusiasm. “I’ve already seen it, Alice.”
“You saw the digital version. You haven’t seen the glossy pages. You look even sexier that way.”
He cringed, but it only endeared him to me that much more. He seemed boyish today, chuffing like a kid.
“That’s all I need,” he said. “To ogle myself.”
“Come on.” I tugged him inside, leading him into the living room, where I’d left the magazines on the coffee table.
The dogs accompanied us, jumping onto the sofa to see what the fuss was about.
“Check this out, girls.” I opened one of the copies to Spencer’s layout. “The new heartthrob in town.” I turned to a photo of him perched on his motorcycle, where he’d been looking off camera at me. “This is my favorite.”
Cookie sniffed the picture, and Spencer groaned. He could deny his sex-symbol status all he wanted, but his Instagram had blown up since the magazine came out. He already had tons of female followers, but as of yesterday, his fan base had practically doubled. I’d also picked up new followers, simply from being associated with him. He’d definitely been right about that. Having a hot lover was making me popular. Luckily, I’d gotten work out of everything, too. Derek had referred me to some important jobs. The work I’d done for Spencer was changing my life.
“He’s a reformed bad boy,” I said to the dogs. “See, it says so right here.”
Cookie sniffed the magazine again, and I bumped Spencer’s shoulder, teasing him. But deep down, I couldn’t bear to think about the next woman who was going to share his bed.
Why couldn’t he be the right man? Why couldn’t he be my future? I ached that I wasn’t allowed to love him, that I had to fight my feelings.
“Kirby called me this morning,” he said.
I closed the magazine with a frustrated snap. Kirby was the last person I wanted to discuss.
Spencer continued by saying, “He’s planning a get-together at his house, and he invited us. It’s going to be a family party, with his kids and grandkids and whatnot.”
I frowned. “Mary didn’t say anything about it.”
“He hasn’t spoken to anyone else about it yet. He wanted to check with me first.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Nothing, except he’s hoping I’ll finally give in and meet his family.” He met my squinting gaze. “I said that I’d go if you did.”
I debated my options. On one hand, I worried that I was being railroaded into this. But on the other, I thought that Spencer needed more family-type ties. Why? I asked myself. Because I wanted him to become a family man himself? Either way, at least I would get a chance to see how well he got along with children. For all I knew, fatherhood might actually be in his future someday.
I could hope…couldn’t I? That maybe he could morph into my Mr. Right. That eventually he might start having the same types of feelings for me that I was having for him.
I said, “We should accept the invitation.”
“Really?” He pushed his hair away from his forehead. “I expected you to put up more of an argument or refuse to go at all.”
“I think it’ll be nice for you to bond with Kirby’s family. They’re the best part of him.” Especially my niece and nephew, I thought. My sister and Brandon, too.
He cleared his throat. “There are other things about him that are admirable.”
“If you say so.” Which he did, over and over, like a broken record, annoying me to no end. “When is this party, anyway?”
“He hasn’t set a date yet. But I’ll let him know that we’re on board.”
“Are you nervous about it?” I couldn’t tell by his expression.
“A little, I guess.” He leaned in my direction. “But it should be easier having you there.”
“I’m only going to support you. I’m not doing this for Kirby.” I leaned toward him, too. “But for now, why don’t you take me out to the garage and ravish me on your Harley, like the hot guy in the magazine would do?”
“Come on, Alice, that guy isn’t real.”
“He is to me.” I put my hand on his thigh, creeping toward his fly, letting him know that I was serious about what I’d said.
“Damn.” His eyes glazed over, and his body went taut.
I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. I was opening his zipper now. “I thought you might see it my way.”
“You’re very persuasive. But let’s do this right.” He scooped me up, carrying me in his arms. A man on a passionate mission.
He stopped to get a condom out of the bedroom, tossing me onto the bed while he secured it in his pocket. He picked me up again, and I clung to his embrace.
He balanced me, shifting me in his arms, and headed down the hall. He went through the laundry room and pushed open the garage door. With everything we’d done in the past, we’d never messed around on his Harley.
“This might not be very comfortable,” he said. “For either of us.”
“I don’t care.”
“Neither do I.” He set me down and peeled off my panties, draping them from one of the handlebar grips.
I wore a loose dress, making it easy to straddle the machine. He climbed in front of me, and we kissed, wet and rough, slick and hard.
A moment later I said, “When I started having fantasies about being with you again, I was worried that you were going to make me reckless, like I used to be.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. You’re still going to marry Mr. Right and have a respectable life.”
I was having a tough time picturing that now, not unless he turned out to be that man.
I felt Spencer’s hand moving under my dress. I gasped and lifted my bottom off the seat.
“Just a bit of foreplay,” he whispered.
I glanced down and saw that his jeans were still undone. “Can I touch you, too?”
“Not yet.” He continued his sexual foray. “I want you to come first.”
I leaned back, giving myself over to him in every way I could. Except for loving him, I thought.
I was still too afraid to do that.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Spencer
I sat on a padded stool in Kirby’s studio, my booted heels pressed against the footrail, and thought about Alice. We’d gotten down and dirty in my garage less than twenty-four hours ago, and now she was on my mind again. I couldn’t go a day without craving her. But it wasn’t just the sex. It was other things, too: the warmth, the friendship, the closeness we’d come to share. I was starting to have feelings for her that scared me.
Bonding-type stuff.
Maybe even love-type stuff.
Kirby sought my gaze, and I did my damnedest to relax. He’d invited me over to listen to some new tracks, but we hadn’t done that yet. We were talking about the party instead.
“Alice agreed to be there for sure?” he asked, seeking to confirm what I’d already told him in a text.
“Yes.” I made another attempt to relax. I was just a guy in recovery, trying to keep his head on straight. What did I know about love?
Nothing, I thought. But it was okay; I didn’t need to freak out. Sooner or later, I would stop seeing Alice, and then these scary feelings would go away.
Kirby blew out his breath. “I really hope this gathering will make her feel more comfortable around me.”
I understood his reasoning. He wanted to create a sense of home and hearth, drawing her into the fold. “I know how important this is to you, but maybe you better not get your hopes up too high.”
“At least it gives me a chance to see her. The only other times I’m able to do that is at the twins’ birthday parties, and she ignores me at those functions.”
; “She might ignore you at this one, too.” I wasn’t trying to be negative, but I hadn’t seen any signs of Alice softening toward him.
“Maybe it’ll be all right if you’re there, guiding her through it. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re going to meet my family. I know how you long you’ve been avoiding these kinds of situations.”
I’d gotten used to being a lone wolf. And now I was putting myself in a position of being part of a pack. I was also waiting for the results of the DNA test I’d submitted on the ancestry sites to find my own father and see if there was a familial match. My world was spinning. But so was Kirby’s. We both had a zillion things on our minds.
“Maybe you should do it soon after the party,” I said.
“You mean tell Alice that I might be her dad?”
I nodded, and he rubbed a hand across his beard. He looked old and tired. Worried, it seemed, about how she was going to react when the time came. Would she learn to love him, to accept him? Or would she hate him even more? I prayed it wasn’t the latter.
After a bout of anxiety-ridden silence, I said, “Maybe she’ll be ready to hear it by then. And even if she isn’t, we can’t drag this out forever.”
“Has it been hard on you, keeping my secret?”
“Everything just seems like it’s getting more difficult.” Sleeping with her. Lying to her. Getting close to her. “I never expected to have this kind of affair with her.”
Kirby squinted, making the lines around his eyes more pronounced. “Are you falling in love with her, son?”
Damn, I thought. Did he have to go and say that? I glanced around, looking for an escape. The walls were closing in.
“Spencer?” He prodded me.
I gripped the undersides of my chair, my knuckles going as white as the ink on my tattoo. “I don’t know.” I stared at him, needing his guidance, his wisdom. “What does it feel like to fall in love?”
He came closer to where I was, grabbing a stool for himself and placing it next to mine. “I think it’s a little different for everyone, depending on their situation. When I first fell in love with my ex-wife, I thought I’d be with her forever, considering how open our marriage seemed. But it got tense later, and I hurt her by having a child with another woman.”