Perfect Fit

by Taige Crenshaw

  She lowered her hand. “Yeah, you do. Sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I deal with dead bodies all the time.”

  “But when they get to your table, they are already dead, not alive when you find them.” Spencer took a guess at what had happened. He remembered now the case he’d been briefed on, but again he recalled there had been no mention of Lila. As far as he knew, the kid had been stabilised. He had been no more than sixteen, had only recently got his licence, and the accident had been a freak one. That he survived to make it to the ER and had been stabilised and moved to ICU had been a miracle in itself.

  “I was there and helped to make sure he was brought in alive. He was making it in the ICU. Then he just”—she cleared her throat—“coded. They couldn’t bring him back. I held his mother as they tried to save her son. His father didn’t even make it in time to see him. He was just coming down the hall when they pronounced him dead.” Lila rubbed her hand over her face. “God. It’s so much easier dealing with a dead body on my table. I don’t get to see them alive beforehand. This sucks.”

  “It does. It’ll be okay, Lila.” Spencer moved to sit beside her, putting his arm around her shoulder. “You were there for his mom. You were there and helped as much as you could.”

  “I know that, Spencer. But he was so young. Life’s not fair.” She shook her head. “I know it isn’t, but at moments like this, it drives it home how it isn’t.”

  “Yeah.” Spencer held her, silent while she blew out a breath and calmed.

  “Thanks. I remember you mentioned that, unless something comes up, you take lunch at this time, so I came here to see you.” Lila patted him on the chest, then said, “Now, enough of that. What is it you miss?”

  Spencer released her but stayed by her side. He took her drink off her tray. “I can’t let you eat that crap.” He pushed away her tray and the sandwich she had got from the machine. He reached for his lunch bag and unzipped it, then pulled out the container and opened the lid. He placed the lid before her, then handed her the extra fork he had before sharing his food with her.

  “Oh my, that smells delicious.” Lila inhaled deeply, then stared at the food on the lid. “What kind of chicken is this? And is this rice? Why is it reddish?”

  “Rosemary-lemon chicken. And the rice is camargue, red rice from southern France.” Spencer thought about what he knew about it. “It’s just that colour and has a really intense taste. It’s good. Try it.”

  “Ummm…how do you know about rice from southern France? Are you moonlighting as a chef?” Lila was watching him with an amused look on her face.

  “No.” He chuckled, scooping a forkful of rice. “My brother made it. He loves to cook and has been all over the world, so he has eclectic taste in food.” He paused, then added softly, “Like someone else I know. They used to share recipes and exchange ideas. It’s a wonder I don’t get fat.”

  “This mysterious brother. You don’t say much about him. I just realised I don’t even know his name.” Lila lifted a forkful of rice before taking a cautious bite.

  He didn’t mention Driscoll because it was ingrained in him not to. With Driscoll being as famous as he was, Spencer was cautious on who he mentioned him to—there was no way to know if someone wanted to get near Driscoll the singer, or get to know Driscoll for himself. Driscoll tended to keep to himself around Singleton and only went places when he was slightly disguised, so as not to be as easily recognised. Although he was retired and out of the limelight, people still tended to be in awe when they were near a singer such as Driscoll. Driscoll still wrote songs for others, but didn’t perform anymore. Spencer watched Lila as she ate and waited for the reaction. Her eyes widened as she chewed then she made a humming sound.

  “Oh my. This tastes”—she narrowed her eyes then blinked, smiling—“nutty. It’s so rich and earthy. Delicious.” She took a bite of the chicken, then made the noise again. “And the chicken is so succulent and also wonderful. If your brother is single, I might just have to marry him so I can get his food, or kidnap him for his recipes.” She chuckled.

  Spencer laughed loudly at the idea. Lila was almost as tall as him, but willowy, and there was no way she could kidnap Driscoll. The logistics of her being able to lift him and take him away was hilarious. He thought of her marrying Driscoll. That was also funny, since Driscoll was so set in his ways, it would take a woman who was a saint to put up with him, or someone who could wield a wicked frying pan to knock him over the head. As he watched Lila, a thought formed.

  “So, who is this person your mysterious brother shared recipes and ideas with, but doesn’t anymore?” Lila took another bite, studying him with curious eyes.

  Spencer lowered his head, not sure if he wanted to talk about this with her.

  “You don’t have to tell me, Spencer. But I’ll tell you what I see. When I first met you, there seemed to be this sadness in you. It was like you were here, but not really here.”

  Surprised, he looked up at her. Lila was watching him. The intensity of her hazel gaze made his shift uncomfortably. It was if she was seeing into him.

  “I don’t know if that makes sense. But you were going through the motions of living without actually living. I wondered why, but didn’t know you well enough to push.” Lila put down her fork then leant back against her chair, placing her hand on the table and tapping the fingers one at a time, slowly. Spencer knew it was her ‘thinking through something’ pose. “Then the last few months, there was a change in you. You seemed to come to life again. Like someone breathed breath into your body and it started living again. I don’t know what happened, but I enjoy seeing that glow on your face and in your eyes.” She studied him. “Although today, you seem more melancholy and thinking deeply about something. I’m a good listener, Spencer. I won’t share your secrets.”

  “I—” Spencer paused then leaned closer. “I find myself attracted to someone, and I shouldn’t be. It isn’t appropriate to want a friend who—”

  “Whoa, Spencer.” Lila’s eyes were wide. “You’re married. You don’t discuss your wife at all, but you are.” She tapped his ring. “This is sacred, and you can’t break that vow. Not for some woman who—”

  “But she is right in front of me—”

  “Oh, my God. It’s me.” Lila pushed back her chair. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I like you, Spencer, but as a friend. Friend. I don’t like you that way.” She made a shaking gesture with her hand. “You shouldn’t have these feeling for me. You’re not even my type.”

  Spencer grabbed her arm, stopping her from getting up. “I didn’t mean you. Wait. What do you mean, I’m not your type?” He frowned.

  “Not me.” Lila blew out a breath. “Whew. That’s good, then. What does it matter that you’re not my type?”

  “I want to know why.” Spencer wondered what was wrong with him that she wouldn’t even be attracted to him.

  “Typical man. Don’t get your ego bruised. You’re a handsome and sexy man, Spencer.” She patted his cheek. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you that way. No spark of wanting or pulse racing. Everyone has a type that makes you want, and you don’t do that for me.”

  Spencer thought of what she’d said, then looked at her and felt nothing either. She was right—he’d never been attracted to her, even though she was gorgeous. He thought of Regina. His breath caught, and he shifted in his chair as he instantly went hard.

  “Oh my.” Lila’s breathless voice made him look at her. She blinked, then said in a husky voice, “That look. Spencer… God, where did you get that look? You were thinking of her, weren’t you? That friend that you want. Whew. If you use that look, then she will be yours.” Lila shook her head. “But you need to be true to your wife. She deserves your faithfulness. I—”

  “She does. My wife—Regina—she’s the friend that I’m attracted to. She’s my best friend, and I’m attracted to her, and I shouldn’t be.”

  “I’m confused. She’s your wife, so why shouldn’t you be attracted
to her? You love her. Don’t you?”

  Spencer closed his eyes, then opened them, looking at her. “There are many things that stand between us. We haven’t been a couple for about three years. Tried therapy for a year, and then I moved out a year ago.”

  “You never mentioned her in all the times we’ve talked. Something changed.”

  “Yes. I’ve been avoiding places I would see her, but then I did, and it’s been all muddled in my head ever since.” Spencer was relieved to say it out loud. Lila didn’t know Regina, or them as a couple, so she was an unbiased person to talk with.

  “I don’t think it’s muddled. If she’s the reason you came alive, then there is nothing confusing. You need to go to her. Work out whatever that you need to.”

  “But what if we can’t? Then we won’t be in each other’s lives again. I’ll lose her permanently.”

  “Haven’t you already sort of lost her? That is, since you haven’t seen her for almost a year and haven’t lived with her in that time. How is your life without her now?” Lila placed her other hand over his on her arm. “Because from where I’m sitting, you didn’t seem all that happy. But now there’s a light burning in your eyes and”—she smirked—“a determination which makes me think you’ve already made your decision.”

  Spencer stared, then laughed as he realised she was right. Subconsciously, he had. It just took a nudge for his conscious mind to catch up. He kissed Lila on the cheek.

  “Thank you.”

  “Please… I didn’t do a thing.” Lila laughed, then winked. “I’m betting on you overcoming this. Don’t let me down. I hate to lose.” She patted his hand, then scooted the chair back at the table. “Now let’s finish this lovely food before it gets too cold.”

  “Let me heat it up.” Spencer rose, picking up the container and the lid. He waited and when she looked at him, he asked, “How do I go back to her?”

  “You know your wife better than I do.” Lila shrugged. “Do you have a picture, and what’s her name again?”

  “Regina, and I do have a picture of her.” He placed the items he had down, then took out his wallet and showed her the picture.

  Lila studied it, then nodded. “She’s a sexy woman.” Lila lifted her head to study his face. “In my opinion, it’s always best to go with a full frontal attack and lay out your terms, then go from there.”

  Spencer mulled over her suggestion as he picked up the food again and went to heat it up. His mind filled with how he would return home to Regina, and what he would say. They had things to work on before they could figure out if they could become an ‘us’ again—if they couldn’t, they would permanently part ways.

  * * * *

  Spencer lifted his bag then looked around the room he’d been staying in for the last year. There was a lot of stuff he was leaving behind for now—he’d bought the items since he’d moved in with his brother. He’d left his things at the house he used to share with Regina, unable to take them with him—he’d only grabbed some clothing when he left. Now he was returning with the just the same, although he had some new things. Spencer stopped stalling and exited the room. He went down the hall then descended the stairs, before pausing by the base and dropping his bag. He headed to the living room on his left, stopped in the doorway then looked at Driscoll, who was sprawled on the couch before the television. He was watching Bones—Driscoll loved the show.

  “Not Bones again,” Spencer protested just for fun. He liked the show himself, but enjoyed teasing Driscoll.

  “Hush, you. First in the room, so I get to pick.” Driscoll turned his head to look at him. “Not that it matters, since you’re leaving to go home anyway.”

  Spencer scowled. “How the hell did you know?”

  “You’ve been washing your clothing and straightening up your room for the last three days.” Driscoll smiled. “Unless you’re going on a long overdue vacation, I figured it had to be you were going home. ‘Bout time, Spence.”

  “Yeah. We’ll see how it goes. Regina might not be welcoming, so I might just be back here later tonight.”

  “Too bad. I already have plans to rent out your room. I have a nice clown waiting for it to become vacant.” Driscoll wrinkled his nose. “I told him as soon as the present one moves out, I will let him know.”

  “Ha ha. Not funny.” Spencer leaned against the doorjamb.

  “So, you need my help moving your stuff back home? You have a lot of shit you’ve gotten over the last year.” Driscoll went to stand.

  “No need. I’m just taking my duffel with some clothing.”

  “Just like you arrived.” Driscoll shook his head. “Way to hedge your bets. If you’re going to do this, you need to go in with it wholeheartedly, or don’t waste time.”

  “You seem to have a lot of advice about me and Regina. What are you, a fairy matchmaker or something?” Spencer straightened and turned before heading back into the foyer.

  “Another piece of advice. If you want to get anywhere with her, call her Reggie, because she’ll throw you out on your ear otherwise! She’ll know you’re not serious!” Driscoll yelled.

  “Nosey man. Mind your business.” Spencer grabbed his bag.

  “You are my business. I need you out so I can rent that room.”

  He went back to the open doorway. “Like you would. You like your privacy too much.”

  “True. But I’ve lived with you for over a year, so I’m sort of used to having someone around.”

  “Awww…you love me.” He moved closer.

  “Just shut up and come here.” Driscoll rose and they hugged. Driscoll released him and studied him. “Whichever way it goes, I’m here if you need me.” Driscoll pushed him playfully. “I can’t say the same for your room.”

  “My room better be there and with everything the way I left it. You can have Aida clean it, but nothing else.” Spencer paused. “Tell her I said bye. At least for now. As well as Irene.”

  “Nope. Not getting between you and Aida—hell, or Irene. You make sure to call them both and tell them yourself.” Driscoll sat and lifted a finger in warning. “Tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

  Spencer nodded. Aida was the house manager and kept it running well—she was a force to be reckoned with when crossed. Irene was Driscoll’s assistant and she ran everything else, from keeping him on track with business-related to personal things like doctors’ appointments and such. Spencer found her so efficient, she was scary. She’d been organizing his things too, and their relationship had become closer than before. He turned and left. Moments later, he was outside standing by his dark grey Subaru Forester. Spencer took a breath before he got into the car. He threw his bag on the passenger seat, then started the vehicle and drove off.

  As he went to the house, it was familiar, yet so strange since it had been over a year since he had been inside. Soon, he pulled into the drive and noticed the garden looked well taken care of. That had been what he did when he was off—he’d loved to sink his hands into the dirt and work to make it beautiful. Regina would usually be sitting on a lounge chair nearby, teasing him while they listened to music.

  Spencer parked then got out, taking his bag with him. He quickly went up the steps to the front door, but stopped, looking at his watch. He instead went down the length to the right and around the side to the door leading to the kitchen. This time of day, Regina would be home. The crew from Moments were on one of their recharging breaks, so she would be home on time. At least he hoped so. He took out his key chain, jingling it, then found his key. He still had it, but didn’t know if he should use it or knock.

  This is my house too. He put the key in the lock and turned, pushing the door open. There was a beep of warning and he closed the door behind him, dropping his bag on the floor, then turned to the alarm and entered the code. Spencer was relieved when it took, blinking green as it armed again. The scent of cooking food was delicious, reminding him he was hungry. He winced as the music changed to the song War Paint by Lorrie Morgan and knew he had his w
ork cut out for him.—the music was from one of the CDs they had burned that reflected their moods. This was Regina’s pissed off and ready to rumble one.

  He shifted to face the room and stopped as he met the rich, green-eyed gaze of his wife, the woman who could drive all sense from his head with one look. Another type of hunger filled him as his cock hardened. Regina’s kinky curls of reddish brown mixed with gold were loose around her captivating, dark honey face. Her expression wasn’t welcoming, but contained, attempting to hide what she was really feeling. But Spencer knew her well enough to see past the mask on her exquisite face—Regina was unsure, and he could see her hope even as she tried to hide it. She came around the counter, moving with such innate grace that Spencer wanted to feel her beneath him as he drove into her willing body.

  You’re not going to do that. Control, Spencer. You need to set terms for this, and sex will only muddle it.

  He stifled a groan as he saw what she had on. The dark-red, short-sleeved housedress had a sweetheart neckline that showcased her full breasts, then fell in soft waves to the hem, which had ragged points that stopped just above the knees. The dress complemented her full figure and made him ache to slide his hand under hem and touch her silky heat. He hadn’t seen the dress before, but recognised the style as one Montana made and sold in her store, Simply Essential. It was a store that Regina favoured and he’d enjoyed getting a modelling show when she came home to show him what she had bought. It had led to many pleasurable hours of… He cut off that thought.

  Regina stopped a few steps away from him and pushed her hair from just below her breast to over her shoulder. Spencer watched, wanting to do it for her.

  “What are you doing here?” Regina’s tone was cold.

  Full frontal attack. Spencer recalled the words from Lila. “I’m home. Or don’t you want me here?” He waited, holding his breath to see what she would do.