by Kristen Echo
They adjourned to the living room at his insistence. Gwen had never been able to say no to him. He was still every bit as commanding as when she’d known him. She plopped next to her sister on the plush, overstuffed, cream colored couch while he leaned against the fireplace mantel. Both women crossed their legs. Gwen tugged at the hemline of her frayed shorts.
Spencer had his back to them and looked striking in a three-piece-suit. Her eyes devoured every inch. The expensive fabric accentuated his fine physical form. Under those layers of Italian linen… It didn’t matter. She had to stop drooling over her ex. Good-looking or not, this man was bad news. She diverted her eyes to the window and watched the sun disappear.
“When did you arrive in the city?” he asked.
“My sister surprised me this evening with her unannounced visit,” Cherie replied as she fiddled through her purse.
“How long will you be here?”
“Not long,” her sister answered for her again.
“That’s a shame.” His statement lingered, and no one responded.
This was awkward. Gwen shifted in her seat, wondering if it would be wrong to leave. She looked down at her clothes and wished she looked half as polished as her sister. They were in different leagues. And so was Spencer. He always had been. She chanced a glance at him and his eyes were on her. Her heart leapt into her throat.
Damn those eyes.
CHAPTER TWO
L ost in the sea of blue eyes, Gwen opened and then closed her mouth. Her mother had taught her to keep her yap shut if she had nothing nice to say. Keeping quiet was the only option in this scenario. Unable to look away, she bit her lip. A meteor could have landed on the couch next to her and she wouldn’t have been able to move a muscle. With their eyes locked, she was his captive.
She never should have followed him into the room.
“This evening has certainly taken a most unexpected turn,” he said, inching closer from across the room.
Spencer Northcote had grown up. He stared at her intently. Her face heated under the scrutiny. Twenty-four years apart hadn’t changed him enough to stifle the appeal he exuded. All the years hadn’t dulled the longing or desire to be in his arms. A mix of love and hatred warred inside. The attraction was strong and swarmed around her like a hive of angry bees. It irritated her. Along with the unmistakable allure came the ache in her chest from a heartbreak that had never mended.
“Unexpected for sure,” Cherie mumbled.
Gwen had nothing to add. Why was she even sitting there?
The intensity of his stare confused her. He seemed happy to see her. She didn’t feel the same. He was just a man. Nothing special. Okay, that was a lie. He hadn’t hung the moon, but his magnetism was out of this world. Unfortunately, good looks didn’t change the ugliness that existed on the inside. Nothing he could say would change the past, yet she waited with bated breath for him to speak. Say anything to end her torture.
She squirmed in her seat. The need to leave continued to rise and her knees bounced uncontrollably. His eyes finally relinquished their hold, and she exhaled. Only, he didn’t look away. Those baby blues drifted down her face, lingering on her mouth. She almost remembered what it felt like to have his lips on her. She wondered if he remembered.
Why would he? She’d meant nothing to him she reminded herself.
The slow seduction of his gaze left her nowhere to hide. His focus dipped down her throat and over her chest. She tugged on the hem of her stained t-shirt and glanced at Cherie. Her sister ignored them and typed furiously on her phone as she chewed her plump painted lower lip. The color matched her dress, reminding Gwen how she had interrupted their night.
“This is awkward. I should go,” she said, placing her hands over her knees to stop the shaking.
Her eyes scanned the room, searching for a way out. This room had no more character than the entry. The condo looked more like a designer showroom than a home. It lacked personality and warmth. She didn’t want to be rude, but she couldn’t stay another minute.
“You do speak. It doesn’t need to be awkward,” Spencer replied. His velvet voice lured her attention away from escape. “It’s great to see you.”
He smiled, and her breath hitched. The years had been far too kind to him. Damn he was sexy. The silver at his temples really turned her on. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. The boyish good looks were replaced with male flawlessness.
“Never thought our paths would cross again,” she admitted, biting back the smart retort that hovered on the tip of her tongue. It involved laying into him for being a royal asshole and breaking her heart. Her hands balled into fists. Nothing good would come from drudging up the past. This man had been the first to break her heart, but he wasn’t the last. There was a long list of heartbreakers.
He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
She hardly believed it either. He stepped closer. Each step echoed through the quiet room. His feet stopped directly in front of hers.
“We can do better than a strangers greeting,” he said, stretching his big hand towards her. His long fingers were inches from hers.
Gwen didn’t take his offer. “A what? I don’t think—”
His hand gripped hers and a shock wave of heat blasted through her system, catching her off guard. Spencer had always done things she hadn’t expected. A heartbeat later, she was standing as his arms wrapped around her waist. Despite all the tears that followed their breakup, her libido spiked in his presence.
Spencer Northcote hugged her, mashing their bodies together.
She stiffened and then melted into his arms. He bent his knees, lowering his upper body and raking his hard chest against hers. Her nipples responded and there’s no way he missed it. She hated the way her body reacted to him. She closed her eyes, counting the seconds until he let her go.
One thousand one.
One thousand two.
When their cheeks pressed together, her panties flooded with moisture. His hands inched along her spine and settled on the small of her back. He pulled her closer. A sheet of paper wouldn’t have fit between them. She scrunched her eyes tighter. The intimacy of the hug made her entire body shiver.
One thousand five.
One thousand seven.
Dammit. She lost count. Afraid to move, her arms remained by her side. She couldn’t even catch her breath. She inhaled through her nose.
A mistake.
He smelled so good. Clean and manly. There was no overpowering cologne; just him. It had been a long time since she’d smelled anyone so delectable. It’s possible no one had ever smelled this good. An urge to rub herself against him rooted in her mind. Cherie stood and coughed, reminding her they weren’t alone.
Thank the heavens her sister was there.
He pulled away slowly and moved his hands to the exposed skin on her arms as he stepped back. “Much better. There’s no need to pretend we don’t know each other.” The cheeky grin made her want to smack him.
“I’d rather we’d never met. I wish you weren’t here now,” she blurted.
“Gwen,” Cherie shrieked. “Spencer is my… friend. I will not accept you being anything but cordial to my guest. If you can’t control yourself, you should leave.”
Cordial? Was she for real? Gwen blinked a few times, trying to steady herself. It took every ounce of self-control to push back the rage threatening to boil over.
Spencer let go of her arms. She glanced down, expecting to see burn marks seared into her skin. There was nothing. He ran his fingers through his thick mane of hair and stepped back.
“It’s fine Cherie.” He sat on the couch. Placing his ankle over his knee, he leaned back into a position that displayed his confidence. Full lips traced his perfect teeth as he smiled. He patted the empty cushion next to him. “Gwen should stay. I won’t be here long.”
His posture suggested otherwise. And what was with the hug? He’d held on for way longer than necessary. Then again, she hadn�
��t pulled away. What did that say about her? She wasn’t interested in finding out.
“You two continue your evening and pretend I never interrupted.” She tipped her head to her sister.
Cherie nodded, granting her permission to leave. It wasn’t often they saw eye to eye; this was a welcome agreement.
Gwen marched towards the exit, eager to put distance between her and Spencer. Her life was complicated enough without him in it.
“Wait,” he said.
This time she didn’t stop.
“If she wants to go, let her leave,” Cherie countered. “I see no point in begging her to stay.”
“I’m sorry.” His tone was crystal clear and deeper than earlier.
Those were two words she never expected to hear him say. Gwen wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Cherie. It didn’t matter. She kept walking, but her pace slowed.
“Gwen, did you hear me? I’m sorry,” he repeated. He was much closer than she expected.
She stopped at the door but didn’t open it. She hadn’t expected him to chase her into the foyer. “For what?”
“I never got a chance to offer my condolences after your father passed. You were close from what I recall. I’m sorry for your loss.” His hands brushed against her shoulders and settled on her biceps.
Her fingers slipped over the door handle and she swallowed hard. “Thank you. It was a few years ago.” Gwen had always been a daddy’s girl. Losing him had devastated her. “How do you even know about that?”
“I mentioned it at a Cancer fundraiser a few weeks back.” Cherie leaned against the wall next to her.
Instead of having a casual conversation in the living room, they were standing at the entry as tension filled the air. “I donated in his honor,” Cherie added, making Gwen feel even smaller.
Her sister had used the inheritance money to grow her portfolio and make the world a better place. She’d most likely invested it wisely and doubled or even tripled the funds. Gwen was proud of her for being so smart and generous.
Gwen had paid off debt and made poor decisions with the rest. It was all gone. She’d trusted the wrong man. Instead of that money doing good in her community, it lined the pockets of an asshole. He took everything. Something like that would never have happened to Cherie.
“Speaking of fundraisers,” Cherie continued. “We should discuss the upcoming—”
“Another time,” Spencer interrupted. “I am much more interested in discussing Gwen and what she’s been up to for the past twenty-plus years. I want to know everything.”
Gwen kept her back to them and her hand on the doorknob. She wished the foyer wasn’t so empty. A painting or picture would have been nice. There was nothing to focus on besides the loud beat of her heart. “I have nothing to share.”
“She’s a middle-aged, unemployed couch surfer. Trust me, her life is not that interesting,” Cherie replied.
Gwen cringed at her sister’s summation of her life because every word was true. Her list of failures was long, and she didn’t need to stick around to hear more of her mistakes aired. She turned the handle.
“I’m interested none the less,” Spencer responded. His tone hardened and lacked the silky quality it had earlier. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was pissed, though he had no reason to be.
“Like Cherie said, my life isn’t worth discussing.” She opened the door. “Later.”
The hall light greeted her. She could almost taste the fresh air. The hall was empty. It was beyond time to leave.
“Are you looking for work? Maybe I could help,” he offered.
His words hit the nail on the head, stopping her foot from entering the hall. She hadn’t kept tabs on her ex. Based on the tailored suit and the fact he hung out in the same circles as her sister, she guessed he had connections and did well for himself.
As much as she hated to admit this to him, she needed work more than her pride. “As a matter of fact, I am looking. I doubt you’d be able to help me, but I appreciate the offer.”
“You’d be surprised what I can do.” His voice lowered to a level that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what line of work you’re interested in.”
Cherie harrumphed and stomped away from them. Sharing attention wasn’t something her sister did well. Her heels clacked against the tile as she mumbled under her breath.
“Spencer, I couldn’t ask for your help. You are the last person I would ever—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” He spun her around, released her arms and stepped back, giving her space.
For a moment, no one spoke. The door closed with a loud bang. They stood, facing each other and breathing the same air. She kept her eyes on his chest instead of his face. She didn’t want to know what he thought.
As the seconds ticked by, she couldn’t help herself and her eyes drifted up. “Why?”
“Why not finish the sentence or why would I help you?” he asked.
“Both.” She shoved her hands in her pockets.
“How long are you here for?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered, looking down at their feet. The shiny, freshly polished tips of his shoes inched closer to her well-worn runners.
“Give me your number.”
She smirked. “You didn’t answer my questions.”
“First your number and then questions.” His tone was playful. He pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to her.
He wanted her number, and she was actually considering giving it to him. WTF?
Eyeing the device, she gave it back. “Mine is a pay as you go. I don’t have many minutes,” she admitted.
She’d been forced to disconnect the monthly plan before leaving the coast. Her daughter had cried when the data turned off. She’d begged her to keep it for a little longer, but it wasn’t possible. The limited airtime they had purchased only covered emergencies. Her life was such a mess. She had no plans on sharing those details with him. The less he knew the better.
His brows furrowed. “Being offline is nearly unheard of these days.”
“You sound like my daughter.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s only temporary.”
“Did you roll your eyes?” he asked, leaning forward and invading her space.
She couldn’t tell if he was amused or angry, though she suspected the latter. “Yes.”
He laughed, tossing his head back. His laughter lightened the tension in the air. “Priceless.” He rubbed his hand over his stomach, drawing her eyes to the flat surface. “I can’t remember the last time anyone other than my daughters did that to me.”
Hearing him say he had kids reminded her she knew nothing about the man. It didn’t surprise her that he had a family. Spencer had once told her that he wanted to have a hockey team sized family, someday. A lifetime ago, she’d pictured carrying his child and growing old with him. Those silly teenage daydreams never materialized. At least not with her, but he was most likely married and had a house full of rug rats.
“Look, I’m guessing since you hang out with my sister that you have friends who own businesses. I doubt you could help me since I’ve been working in the non-profit sector my entire career. I’m not an investment banker, lawyer or marketing professional. Not that there’s anything wrong with those jobs. They are fine, but I’m not interested in the corporate world. I’m a social worker. The last project I worked for was helping youth fight drug addiction. Our goal was to get them into suitable housing and find additional supports to better their lives.”
He shook his head. “Do you know anything about me, Gwen? Have any clue what I’ve been up to since you dumped me?”
Dumped him? He had things so turned around, but it wasn’t worth rehashing.
“No. I don’t know anything about you,” she confessed. “Are you a hockey player or something? Cherie mentioned celebrating the Stanley Cup. You seem a tad old to play but—”
He laughed, silencing her words. “I’m not a
hockey player. Though I’m flattered you’d think I had the skill to play in the NHL.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” she snapped. “I wasn’t paying you a compliment. Besides, what do you know about me?”
He narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer. The stare down would yield no winners.
Gwen exhaled and broke eye contact. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not in the mood to shoot the breeze. It’s been a very long day. I didn’t expect Cherie to have company. I certainly never expected to see you again.” She leaned her back against the door.
“Life works in mysterious ways,” he said, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
“But you’re here,” she huffed. “You offered assistance with work, so talk. After you’ve said your piece, we can part ways. I’d like to grab a quick stretch outside before I crash. I’m sure your wife and kids are expecting you home any minute. Let’s not keep them waiting.” She reached for the door handle and twisted it.
He slammed his hand against the door, preventing her from opening it. “There’s no one waiting for me. My wife passed away a long time ago, and I never remarried. It’s me and my kids. My eldest daughter is married, and I tucked my youngest into bed before I left the house. I have all the time in the world to hear your story, but we can save that for another time.”
Spencer was a single father. The news jolted her like a sip of espresso in the morning. The exhaustion from two days on the road vanished. She opened her mouth, but no words followed.
“If you want to continue helping kids, I might be able to assist. I sit on several charitable boards and am very well connected in our not-for-profit sector. Would you like me to make some calls?”
Gwen nodded because she still couldn’t speak.
“Consider it done,” he said, and she believed him.
“There’s no need to linger by the door. Either stay or go,” Cherie bellowed from the other room. “Spencer, I poured you a scotch.”
“Will you join us for a drink?” he asked.
“No,” she croaked. It had a been ages since anyone other than her father had helped her. It had been even longer since a man had followed through on his word. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but it bloomed regardless.