Romancing the Rival

by Kris Fletcher

  “Like drink beer?”

  Spence burst out laughing. “Oh hell no, you little weasel. But you get points for trying.”

  “And Uncle Spence gets major points for saying no,” came Livvy’s voice from the other side of the breakfast bar. Spence gave her a quick assessing glance. She looked tired and kind of small, but the smile on her face was warm and real.

  Max scrambled to sit up straighter. “I knew you were there, Mom. I was just testing you.”

  “Sure you were.” She winked and turned her focus to Spence. “I hate to interrupt, but if I don’t get some coffee into me in the next five minutes, I’m going to have to take the dog hostage.”

  “Coming right up.” Spence gave Max one last squeeze around the shoulders before nudging him off the sofa. The kid tried to scamper out of the kitchen but Livvy caught him in a long hug, resting her cheek on the scruffy hair and kissing the top of his head.

  “School day,” she said roughly when she finally let go. “Make sure your sister is awake. She was still snoring when I got up.”

  “No way. She throws things at me when I have to wake her up.”

  “We’re at Uncle Spence’s. She doesn’t have anything to throw. Now go.”

  “I’ll come check for your body in a couple of minutes,” Spence called as he shuffled over to the coffee maker. He pulled the grounds and filters from their places on autopilot.

  “Thanks for the talk,” Livvy said softly.

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough to know that it’s time for another chat about academic honesty.” But her words were tempered with enough humor that he knew Max would live to see another day.

  “They’re going to be okay, Liv.”

  She nodded but said nothing.

  “Are you sure they should go to school? I don’t mind if you guys hang out here today. I’ll be at the office.”

  “No. They won’t get anything out of it today, and I’ll call the school as soon as I can to let their teachers know that they probably won’t be on the ball for a while. But school is their safe place. They need to stay in the routine, see that most things won’t change.”

  “Okay. What about you?”

  “Well, that’s kind of different.” She reached down to pet Furgus, who had no doubt been lured in by the small of the coffee grounds. Coffee meant imminent food in Furgus’s world. “I’m calling in sick. I need to make a lot of phone calls today.”

  “Need me to do anything?”

  “I might need you to make me a list.” Her smile was small but real. “I’m having a hard time thinking, you know? You might have to be my brain for a while.”

  “Not to worry.” He hit the button to start the magic elixir brewing. “Rumor has it I have brains to spare.”

  “That you do.” She reached across the breakfast bar and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m glad you were there. Here. Whatever.”

  “Me too, kiddo.”

  * * *

  A couple of days after talking to Rob, Bree sat in her office staring at a blinking cursor and wondering if it was possible to rip open the guts of her laptop and forcibly disable the damned blinking option. The more forcibly, the better.

  She hadn’t written a word since she’d talked to him. No, actually, she had. Thirteen of them, to be precise, which she had promptly deleted. The words wouldn’t come. Undoubtedly because the ideas were blocked. Unquestionably because nothing she said seemed real anymore.

  Nothing except that damned cursor. Each time it winked was another reminder that she was behind and she had a contract and she had a deadline. All of which were totally doomed because she also no longer believed in her central fucking thesis.

  “Damn it.” She closed the laptop, grabbed her phone, and hit the speed dial for Jenna.

  Voice mail.

  Bree chewed on the inside of her cheek. Kyrie was in Philly with Ben. Paige was . . . she did the mental time zone math . . . probably sitting down to dinner. Annie would be leaping from crisis to crisis, as she did every day. Neenee and Margie were both at work.

  It was just Bree, the cursor, and the voice of Buzz Lightyear in the back of her head, saying, “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

  Her fingers hovered over the phone. God, but she could use a dose of Spence’s sanity right now.

  Except Spence needed to take care of Livvy. Not to mention the fact that there were things they needed to discuss.

  Damn, but she was tired. She wanted it all done. The semester, the grades, the book, the drama. She just wanted to find Spence and go for a walk. Eat ice cream. Go back to his place and snuggle up on the sofa, Furgus at her side, and watch Guardians of the Galaxy together before going to bed and getting more than five hours of sleep, followed by the world’s most awesome wake-up call.

  Most of all, she wanted to know what she was supposed to do next.

  Soon, she told herself. Let Spence keep his focus on Livvy, who certainly needed him most right now. Use the time to decide how she wanted to proceed with Rob. Then, once everyone had had a chance to breathe, she could sit down with Spence. Tell him about her change of heart. Tell him that the situation between their fathers was no longer as cut-and-dried as he thought.

  And maybe, somewhere, she could squeeze in a few prayers that her next step would be revealed and Spence would understand about her father, and her students would stop sending her e-mails begging to know if it was too late to hand in the assignments that had been due in February.

  In the meantime, it was just her. And the curser.

  And one word after another of a book she no longer believed she could write.

  * * *

  It took more than a week for Spence to get together with Bree again.

  She was busy. He was busy. The one time they thought they could swing it, Livvy needed him to come over at the last minute because Carl was going to be bringing Max home from Scouts and she was worried that he would try to hang around and talk to Emma. And while she didn’t want to come between him and the kids, she feared that it would seem too normal and familiar, that she would start to weaken, and—

  “Got it,” Spence said, and sent a quick text to Bree. Who, of course, understood. Because that was the kind of woman she was—someone who understood family stuff.

  But then came Friday night. Livvy and the kids were all going to the high school talent show, and Carl was out of town at a previously scheduled conference. Which meant there would be no crises, no problems, no need to worry. Tonight, Spence could relax, knowing that his family was safe and settled.

  Tonight, he could focus on Bree. Explain things to her. Maybe even throw out the idea of a weekend away, just the two of them. Maybe over Memorial Day. That was far enough away that they would have time to figure out something fun, but not so far that it implied Major Long-Term Relationship. Even though the time apart had made him realize, more and more, that when it came to Bree, major and long-term might not be so overwhelming after all.

  Somehow, in his anticipation, he forgot that her family could have a crisis, too.

  The plan had been for her to come to his place. Damned fine plan. It left lots of room for other activities once they finished talking. But she called him in a flustered rush about twenty minutes before she was to arrive.

  “Something’s come up,” she said breathlessly. “My sister Annie is having new carpeting installed at her day care tonight, but one kid’s mom was in an accident on the way there. Nothing serious, but the dad is out of town and there’s no one to come get the kiddo, so Annie is taking him home and waiting there with him until someone can make it. Meanwhile, the carpet still needs to happen because Monday is their licensing inspection, so I need to go there and—”

  “Got it. Give me the address. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Spence, are you sure? It’s not going to be exactly peaceful. Plus,
I have to move a lot of furniture.”

  “You’ll still need to eat, won’t you? I’ll bring dinner and help you with the job. We’ll have you out of there in no time flat.”

  So now here he was, surrounded by Legos and baby dolls and enough primary colors that he feared for his sanity.

  “It’s overwhelming, I know.” Bree led him around shelves and through rows of cribs until they reached an area that he assumed was the break room. “And if you think this is bad, you should be here when it’s full of kids.”

  Did he really care about the potential sensory overload? No. He cared that Bree had met him with a smile and taken the bag from him and then kissed him so long and so desperately that for a few seconds he thought that the carpet might not be the only thing getting laid in the next hour.

  Then the carpet guys had banged their way through and the moment had passed. But the happy was still there.

  Damn, he had missed her.

  “I like kids well enough, but you know, small quantities are good.”

  Her smile was the impish kind that haunted him. “So you won’t be signing up as a substitute teacher?”

  “I think I’d rather have my nails ripped off while being forced to listen to a constant loop of Nickelback.”

  She closed the door to the hall, blunting the sounds of the yelling and banging and thuds. He took advantage of the opportunity to pin her against the wall and kiss her again, slow and lingering, trying to make it clear that he had missed her.

  “Hi,” he said when he finally had to come up for air. “Long time no see.”

  “Long time, indeed,” she said, but there was an edge to her smile that didn’t sit well with him, until he remembered the forest dilemma.

  Maybe they could get it out of the way fast.

  “Listen,” he began. “About the other day and the meeting—”

  His words were interrupted by a loud thud, followed by a string of curses. She rolled her eyes.

  “Come on,” she said, putting the food in the fridge. “I got a lot of the stuff cleared away but there’s still things to move. Hope you ate your Wheaties this morning.”

  He thought she was joking until it came time to lift the oversize shelving unit.

  Half an hour later, the furniture was out of the way, the carpet installers had taken over, and the two of them had closed the door against the noise once more.

  “How’s Livvy?” she asked as she opened a cupboard above the break room sink.

  “She’s okay. It’s a real one-step-forward, two-back kind of thing, but it’s getting a little bit—not easier, but more normal. They still have a long way to go, but things have been put in motion and I think that’s helping her.”

  “And the kids?” She handed him a plastic plate. At least there weren’t any cartoon characters on it.

  “Emma isn’t saying much about it, but she’s fourteen. She’s a walking drama machine already, so she’s used to operating at high levels of agony. Max, though . . . he’s the one I worry about. Not that I’m really worried, but you know, he and Carl were really close.”

  “Makes sense. They’re the only guys in the house, and Max is at the age when he’s really turning to his father as a role model.”

  “Yeah, well here’s hoping he doesn’t try to follow in dear old dad’s footsteps too closely, you know?”

  She filled plastic cups with water and set them on the table. “You said Carl is at a conference this week?”

  “Yeah. Not that I think he’s getting his money’s worth out of the sessions,” Spence added bitterly. “He’s probably celebrating his new freedom by banging as many women as he can convince to go along with him.”

  “I wouldn’t lay money on that.”

  “Seriously?” He stopped midway through opening the container of mashed potatoes and squinted at her. “Why would he stop now?”

  “Most men who are serial cheaters aren’t in it for the sex, Spence. They say they are, but what they really want is the thrill of the forbidden, the adrenaline shot that comes from breaking the rules and sneaking around without getting caught. Now that the marriage is over, he doesn’t need to sneak anymore. There’s no risk. Nothing left to lose. So what’s the point?”

  “You mean to tell me that Livvy cutting him loose was the best way to make him stop chasing everything that wiggles?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I mean, he’s still a guy, and there’s still biology.”

  Biology. Yeah. Spence noticed the way her shirt pulled when she reached to grab a couple of napkins and decided that he was a big fan of biology.

  “But,” Bree continued, “I would say it’s pretty safe to assume that the chase is going to be a lot less fun for him these days.”

  “Is it wrong to say that’s the best thing I’ve heard all week?”

  Her grin was almost back to full sass. “Think of it as my way of thanking you for dinner.”

  But no sooner had he handed over her plate, now fully loaded with roast pork and potatoes, than her smile seemed to melt from her face.

  “Spence.” She gripped the plate with both hands. “I need to talk to you about what happened at the meeting.” She drew in a shaky breath that did nothing for his confidence level. “Or, really, about what happened after.”

  “After? You mean, what happened when I went to Livvy’s?”

  “No. Not, you know, that I don’t care, because I do. I want things to be okay for Livvy.” Her smile was small but true. “Of course, she has you on her side, so that makes me feel like her chances are pretty good.”

  “So, then, what are we talking about? Because—look. I know you were blindsided, and I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, but Fred was the one who came up with that solution and he just dropped it on me a couple of hours before the meeting. I should have found a way to prepare you. I’m sorry.” He reached for her shoulder, gave it a squeeze. “Though to be honest, I didn’t expect it to hit you that hard.”

  “See, that’s the problem. I didn’t, either.” She sat in one of the scarred wooden chairs at the slightly tilted table. He took the chair across from her.

  “So you got double blindsided?” he asked. Damn. That was worse than he’d thought.

  “I guess that’s as good a way to put it as any. The problem is, when I saw that plan and thought about what it would mean, I . . . It hurt. So much.” She glanced down at her plate then back up to him, his eyes glittering. “And even though I don’t want to, it turns out I still . . . care about my father.”

  Spence had never had a burning desire to be a psychic, but for the first time ever he was glad he couldn’t see the future. Because he couldn’t see a scenario where this could turn out happily.

  “That must have been a shock.”

  “It was. And not a very welcome one.”

  He could certainly understand that.

  “I want you to know,” she hurried on, “it wasn’t just the proposal that made me see this. The meeting was a big eye-opener. And looking back, I can see that there were little hints before that.” She poked at her potatoes. “For someone who’s supposed to have some grasp of human behavior, I can be pretty dense sometimes.”

  “Bree. Look. I’m sorry. If I had thought . . . But you know, up until then, you seemed just as eager as I was to—”

  “I know. But don’t you see? That’s the terrifying part. I was so certain. I knew he didn’t matter to me, knew that I was better off without him. I still know it. I mean, I can still step back and say, well, practically speaking, he has done nothing but mess up my life in ways I could never imagine.” She sighed and set her fork beside her untouched plate. “But you can’t fight feelings with facts. It makes no sense. I feel like the stupidest, weakest, most codependent or delusional woman on the freakin’ planet, but when push comes to shove, I don’t want to see my father hurt. Not like this.” Her voice broke.
“Not by you.”

  It was that catch in her voice that told him this was the crux of the matter. Not that her father was being hurt. That it was being done by Spence.

  “I . . . You know, the final boundaries will be established by the town and the university. All we’re doing is sending up recommendations. This could well be totally moot.”

  “Do you want that to happen?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you want the town and university to reject that proposal?” She leaned across the table, her eyes pleading. “Or deep down, are you pushing for this new plan to be the winner because it would mean you can honor your father while destroying mine?”

  This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not over Rob Fucking Elias.

  “He destroyed himself, Bree.”

  “Yeah. He did. I know he did.” She folded her hands on the table, lacing them together as if in prayer. “But do you actively want him to be dragged down even farther?”

  What the hell? How was he supposed to answer that? She knew. She knew how he felt, and why; she knew as well as he did that if he said the words, there would be no going back. Not for the two of them.

  But she was going to make him say it.

  And damned if he didn’t understand exactly how his father must have felt when the police first showed up at his door.

  “You want the truth? Yeah. I do. He screwed my family over big-time and—”

  “Actually, he says he didn’t.”

  “What?”

  “I asked him about that.”

  Holy shit, and the hits just kept coming. “You’ve been talking to him?”

  “Twice,” she whispered. “I went over there twice. Once after the committee meeting and then again after the task force.”

  “And you asked him about my father?”

  “There was a lot more to it than that, but yes. I asked if he had involved your father in anything illegal. And he said no, that it was all a case of coincidence, wrong place, bad tim—”

  “And you believed him?” Spence was on his feet, hands wide, trying desperately to grab some sanity out of thin air, because God knew there wasn’t any coming from Bree’s side of the table. “The man has lied to you all your fucking life, and you believe him?”