“Uh-uh. You don’t get to pull that on me. Just a week ago, you gave me divorce papers and said we were through.” She waved her hand, and he noticed her nails were painted to match her clothing. “Now you’re just coming back?” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that, and I’m supposed to accept it?”
“Nope. But I’m here, and you asked if I wasn’t going to fight for us. And I quote”—Spender made the quotation marks with his fingers in the air—“‘You don’t want to fight for us. Is it really so easy to let us go?’” He lowered his hands. “This is my answer. I’m here to fight for us. And no, it isn’t easy to let us go.” Eyes locked with hers, he bent to pick up his bag, then stood. “We need to get comfortable with each other again.” He paused, then lowered his voice. “We need to talk, Regina. Really talk, before we can figure out if there is any us left to be salvaged.”
Regina stalked towards him. “You better just head back out the door. Your words sound good enough, but you’re not meaning it.”
“I do—” He paused as he realised what he hadn’t said. He walked to her, slow and steady. “I mean every word.” They stopped a hairsbreadth from each other, and he spoke even softer. “Are you up to it, Reggie? Are you willing to fight for us?”
Regina inhaled and blinked. When she opened them, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him close to her. “You’d better mean it, Spencer. Because this time, if you leave me, I won’t be responsible for what I do to you.”
“What would you do, Reggie?” he whispered against the side of her face.
“Hunt you down. Then bring you back here and lock you in our room. You’ll be my houseboy.” She winked, then lowered her voice. “I…don’t know how we’ll do this. So much has happened.”
“No silence, Reggie. That’s the start. Talk with me.” Spencer inhaled and stilled, shuddering as he smelt the coconut lotion she had on. “We have to have some rules. No sex.”
“Excuse me?” she said sharply, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t hear you say that.”
“Yes, you heard me. I want nothing more than to take you upstairs right now and make up for the almost two years we haven’t touched.”
“I’m not protesting.” Regina shuddered. “Hell…I’m ready to call in sick right now for the next week so I can get my fill.” She looked him up and down. “The next month, at least.”
“Behave, Reggie.” Spencer fought for control. Before it had all gone to hell, they had been so in sync, in and out of the bedroom. They had stopped being in sync outside the bedroom long before they’d stopped being intimate. They would do this the way they’d initially got together. Meeting of the minds before the body. Lord, please let me have the strength for this. “We’re going back to the beginning. Do you remember when we were fourteen and you talked my ear off as you tried to convince me we were meant to be?”
“I remember that you pretended that I bothered you when I talked to you when you actually liked it. My sexy self chasing your scrawny ass.” She sniffed, her eyes twinkling. “Is that what you want again, Spence?” She smoothed her hand down the front of his shirt. “My tempting you. I can do that.” She pressed her face against the side of his and said in his ear, “But we’re not fourteen anymore, and I’m not that same young girl who doesn’t know the power she has over you.”
Spencer locked his knees to resist her. “Behave, Reggie.”
“Practice that. You’re going to say that often.” Regina stepped back. “I’m good with us getting to know each other again. How do you want to do that?”
Spencer blinked to clear his head and frowned. He hadn’t thought of a way to do that—he drew a blank on what to say.
“You come in here with rules and don’t even have them all thought out.” Regina chuckled, placing her hand on her hip. “Tsk, tsk, Spence. You should know better than that. I like breaking rules, and not having them is even better.”
“I’ll come up with something.” Spencer moved past her, deciding it was better to retreat, at least for now.
“Let me know the rest of the rules, Spence!” Regina called, the laughter in her voice making him grit his teeth.
“I’ll take the guest room,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her. The amusement drained from her face. Spencer smirked and said in a soft voice, “Tsk, tsk. Reggie, do you really think I’m stupid enough to think we can sleep in the same bed? I’m not made of iron. I still want you, and that has never changed.”
“God…I hate when you use that soft voice on me.” She tapped her foot.
“Funny. You don’t always say that. I recall you screaming for me to speak to you softly. I guess it’s only according to the context I use it,” he teased. “In this case, you hate it since you can’t have your way. Behave, Reggie.” He waggled his finger at her.
“Now, now, honey. You should so know better than to challenge me like that.” Regina’s tone was sweet and sounded innocent, but Spencer saw the holy hell in her gaze.
“Yeah, I’m slipping.” He sighed. “I’m so going to have to learn again.”
“Yep.” She laughed.
Spencer joined her then continued on his way, saying, “Whatever you’re cooking sure smells good.”
“Am I supposed to feed you?”
He turned fully and walked backwards as he looked at her, giving her his ‘hungry, please feed me look’ while he patted his stomach. “You’re the one who is always trying to put meat on my scrawny ass.”
“Damn right, that ass.” Regina rushed him and Spencer turned quickly and ran. She cackled as she caught him at the base of the stairs and squeezed his butt.
Spencer jumped then pushed back into her touch before he caught himself. He removed her hand and held it as he turned into her body. “What am I going to do with you, Reggie?”
She sobered, cupping his cheek. “Don’t let us go without a true fight.” She bit her lip. “This is going to be hard for me. I’m going to try to be open but…if I slip into the silence, pull me out of it. Please.”
Spencer mirrored her action, cupping her cheek. “I will.”
“Good.” She studied him. “So, really, no sex?”
“No.” Spencer laughed.
“You think it’s funny now.” Regina wrinkled her nose. “How about kissing and such?”
“Ummm…”
“Then I set a rule that kissing is acceptable.”
“But—”
“You can’t expect me to not want to kiss, or even touch you.” She ran her hand over his chest.
Spencer shivered.
“That is not possible.” She licked her lips.
“Fine.” Unconsciously, Spencer studied her lips then, realising what he was doing, he cleared his throat and met her gaze instead. “But there is a limit to kissing. Above the chin.”
Regina pouted. “You’re a tease.”
“Nope. I know you. And that look in your eyes tells me my definition of kissing and yours are vastly different.” Spencer couldn’t help himself and looked at her lips again. “You can kiss me now if you want.”
“Humph. Like I need permission.” Regina watched his mouth, then squeezed his ass once more before stepping back. “I’m not ready for that yet.”
Spencer tried to control his face so his disappointment didn’t show. He nodded then went up the stairs. He paused on the landing and looked towards the end of the hall to his right, to their room that was on one side of the house. They had knocked out some walls and made the room large. It was their oasis. Spencer turned and went down the hall to a guest room.
“So many guest rooms, and I bet he picks the one farthest away from me. He couldn’t just have taken the guest room next door to our room.” Regina crossed her arms, watching as he disappeared from view in the opposite direction of their room. “It’s not like I was going to go jump him in the middle of the night.” She cocked her head to the side. “Although the idea has merit. God…no sex. He’s trying to kill me,” she muttered as she went back to the kitchen.
&
nbsp; She checked on her sautéing onions, turning down the heat. Then she opened the stove to check the baked potatoes and the apple pie she was baking. All that was left was for the steaks to be grilled and it would be ready. She turned on the George Foreman grill and took out the dish with the marinating steaks. Even a year after being alone, whenever she cooked, she always made too much. She was too used to making for them both. She usually took in the leftovers to work and shared with one of the partners at Moments.
“At least I won’t make too much this time.” Regina stilled as she finally let herself believe he was home. “He’s back.” She lifted her shaking hands to her mouth, then lowered them as she thought of his rules and plans to get comfortable with each other. “What the hell does that mean? We’re married and know each other. What more comfortable is there that he wants us to be?” She paused as she thought of something. She set the heat to the lowest setting on the onions then went upstairs.
She ascended the steps quickly, before going to the walk in linen closet then taking down some sheets and pillowcases. Regina exited the closet, closing the door with her foot since her hands were full. She strode down the hall to the guest room and kicked to knock on the partially closed bedroom door. She had been right—he had chosen the one farthest away. Spencer opened the door looking at her curiously, before focusing on her bundle. Regina shoved it all at him, then pushed past him. She quickly checked the attached bathroom to see if it needed anything before she returned to the bedroom and picked up the towels and washcloth from the pile Spencer had set on the chair by the door. She set up the towels on the shelf in the bathroom along with the washcloth. She re-entered the bedroom and watched Spencer bent over, stripping and making the bed. Regina resisted the temptation to topple him onto the bed and have her way with him. She’d bide her time. Instead, she went down the hall and grabbed some lotion and shower gel off the shelf before going back to his room and plunking it down on top of the dresser.
Spencer looked at them, then at her, surprise on his face. “You have my brand of shower gel and lotion?”
“Yes.” She turned and left. Once again in the kitchen, she took out the mushrooms and started chopping. Regina diced as she listened for him to come down the steps, although she knew it was foolish and she wouldn’t hear him over the sound of the music. The song changed and she whistled along with We Gon’ Fight by Jennifer Hudson. The music cut off, and Regina glanced over to see Spencer had returned.
“What’s the rule?”
“Whoever is first in a room has control over the music selection or TV show,” he said. Spencer shook his head. “But come on, Reggie, I don’t want to listen to this music. I know what it means.”
She wiped her hands and rolled her eyes, then went to him. She reached on the shelf on the left for her set of CDs, then glanced to the right where his own pile was. They had CDs like these throughout the house and she remembered the hours they had spent making them over the years they’d been together. Some went back to when they were younger—those were cassettes at the time, and they’d changed over to CDs. She took down the empty cases and passed them to him, then pushed the button to open the multi-CD player. She took out the first CD and studied the hand-scrawled words on it. It was Spencer’s handwriting that said ‘Reggie’s warning you did wrong’. She handed it to him, then the others that said her name, then ‘run for the hills’ and ‘sleep in the guest room’. Spencer shook his head as he placed them back in the cases.
“God, Reggie. How pissed off were you?” Spencer closed the cases then looked at her. “How many times did you listen to these?”
“They’ve been constantly playing since a week ago.” She took out the last CD, then gave it to him. He looked at her, the surprise on his face making her shift uncomfortably. The last CD was one titled ‘Reggie and Spence through the years—part five’. It was one of the CDs that included their favourite songs. They’d made new ones each year they had been together and she’d been playing the years at random. “I was feeling melancholy,” she muttered, then went back to her chopping.
“Reggie.”
“These mushrooms are going to be so delicious,” she said, giving him a pointed look.
Spencer rolled his eyes and muttered. “You and your fungus.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like them too.” She held out a piece.
Spencer came closer and opened his mouth. She popped it in and smiled. They froze, and Regina blinked at how normal they seemed. So familiar, although they hadn’t done this in almost two years. Regina leaned closer to complete the kiss that would follow. Spencer’s gaze deepened, and he leant forward.
Chapter Three
Spencer cleared his throat, moving back. “I’ll grill the steaks. What did you marinate them in this time?”
It took her a moment to clear the fog of need. “You’ll have to guess,” she teased.
Although she missed kissing him and wanted to taste him badly, she would wait. Regina felt some of her tension drain at the familiar banter. Sometimes they liked to surprise each other with what they prepared and it was fun to have him try to figure out what she’d used as ingredients to cook.
“I’m better at it. Dris has been expanding my culinary repertoire.” Spencer lifted the container, opened it and smelt it.
Regina stiffened as she heard his brother’s name then forced herself to relax. “Really? We’ll see.”
“We will.” Spencer went to the grill and started to cook the steaks.
Finished chopping, Regina headed to the stereo then picked some music and put the CDs in, pressing to start it again. She watched as Spencer paused, listening. When the song came on, he smiled and nodded. Regina stood watching him as One by Mary J. Blige and U2 played. It was one of their favourite songs. She finally looked away and returned to preparing the mushrooms and onions to top their steaks. As they sizzled in the pan, she listened to Spencer whistle then start to sing softly along with the song.
“You have a wonderful voice,” she said softly. “I’ve missed hearing you sing.”
“Do you know what I missed?” The intensity of Spencer’s voice made her look at him. “When you’d dance along while I sang.”
Her breath caught. Then she cleared her throat. “I don’t—”
“Do that anymore. I know. Dancing has been a part of your life for as long as I have known you. Hell, there was a time everyone thought you would do it professionally.”
“I know. But my dream changed,” Regina sputtered.
“It did. But even when it did, you still danced just for the hell of it. I remember the times we spent in your dance studio down the hall, you dancing for fun while I played my guitar and sang. Those were moments I loved. You even choreographed for Driscoll and Belle. And for Moments.” Spencer stared at her, his dark blue gaze serious. “When was the last time you danced, Reggie? The last time you even went into your studio? It’s just down the hall, Reggie. Let’s go to it now.”
She flinched and looked away, focusing on the pan and not him. The music played, but the easy feeling was gone.
Spencer sighed, a long sound, and Regina clenched her fist, hating it. At that moment, she hated him for pointing out what had been lacking in her life for years. Three years, to be exact. When everything had changed and that damn silence came. She finished the onions and he the steaks. Mechanically, she plated the potatoes then set small bowls with different toppings on the table. He brought the steaks and placed one on each plate. Regina got the pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge, snagged cups then brought them to table, setting the pitcher so they could both reach it. Finally, they sat and when he lowered his head, she quickly murmured grace. She lifted her head and met his gaze, her heart feeling like it was in her throat. She wondered if one wrong move would send him running again. Spencer’s expression softened, and he placed his hand on the table. Regina lifted a shaking hand and rested it over his.
“I’m not leaving so easily, Reggie.” He squeezed her hand. “Just like you�
�ll chase me down if I leave. I won’t let you retreat from me. Not this time. Okay?”
Regina let out a harsh breath and returned the squeeze. “Okay.”
“Now I know what you used in the marinade.”
“You haven’t even tasted it yet. There is no way you can know.” She shook her head.
“Told you my skills have gotten better.” He tapped his nose. “Used this. I smelt balsamic vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce and garlic. And if I’m not mistaken, Dijon mustard.”
“How did you figure that?” Regina stared, stumped.
“Dris got me to actually like Dijon mustard. Can’t get enough of the stuff.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Good.” He winked. “Now tell me how your break is going. And, oh yeah, I saw on the calendar”—he pointed to the calendar on the wall by the door—“you’re going next weekend for the pillows. Just so happens I’m off that day. What time do you want to go?”
Regina was pleased he wanted to go pillow shopping with her. On a yearly basis they changed the pillows on their beds and made a day of it, going to some of their other favourite shops. “About nine, we can get started.” She picked up her fork and knife. “The break is going well. We’re taking a month instead this time. We needed a break—we’ve been so busy.”
“I know. I’ve seen the new place—Moments Deuce. It turned out well.”
She lowered her fork, shocked. “How did you see it?”
“Dakota showed me.” Spencer lowered his head, smiling sheepishly. “He comes by Dris’ to hang out, and I can’t shut him up about what has been going on with you.”
Regina wasn’t sure if she was upset or pleased that one of her business partners, Dakota Campbell, had been seeing Spencer and hadn’t mentioned it to her. All this time, she’d thought he’d cut everyone off from his life who had anything to do with her.
“At least he tried to be subtle, unlike Rayne, who comes to cook and tells me I’m an ass. Or Paris. God, I never knew she could swear like she does. Get her around a sports game and she becomes a sailor. Bryon is…”
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