Dirty Deeds (Mechanics of Love #3)

by Megan Erickson

  He couldn’t imagine staying here, working a job he no longer had the passion for. That wasn’t fair to Richard, or his coworkers. And most of all, it wasn’t fair to himself.

  He cleared his throat. “I appreciate the offer of the promotion, but I’m going to have to decline.”

  Richard’s face finally moved. His jaw worked and his eyebrows lifted slightly. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve decided I don’t have the drive I used to for that job, and I don’t think it’s fair to anyone for me to take it.”

  Richard blinked at him, then his face changed, completely softening as he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Spencer, is everything all right? Penny said some things happened on your last trip.”

  Things happened. That was a very simplistic way of saying it. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m scared to death, but I’m okay.”

  “So you’re leaving Royalty Suites?” Richard asked. “I’d hate to lose you completely. I’ll give you some time off, but is there another position I can offer you?”

  Spencer smiled and shifted his gaze to the sun reflected off the water. He sighed and said, “Well, actually, there is . . . ”

  Chapter Eighteen

  ALEX STEPPED OUT of her shower, wrapped one white towel around her body, and twisted another in her wet hair. She wiped the condensation off the mirror and squinted at her reflection. She needed her eyebrows waxed. And she should be wearing more moisturizer. She grabbed her lotion and smoothed it over her face, arms, chest, and legs.

  As she finished up, her doorbell rang. She ran into her bedroom, glancing at the clock and frowning. Ivy was coming over to drop off a shirt she’d borrowed on her way out on a date with Brent, but she wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour or two.

  Alex didn’t bother getting dressed as she padded to the front door in her bare feet and swung it open, saying, “Hey, you’re early.”

  The last word was a whisper. Because it wasn’t Ivy standing in front of her door. It was Spencer. Leslie Michael Spencer.

  He wore a Henley with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of dark jeans. He pushed his sunglasses up into his dark hair and dropped a bag he held at his side on the floor. “Um, I’m late actually. About six months too late.” She clutched the towel knotted at her chest, realizing now she stood in front of him practically naked. He wasn’t looking anywhere but her eyes, though. He held her gaze firmly, if a little hesitantly. “Hello, Alex.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and every word she tried to say dried up in her throat. He looked better than ever. More relaxed. Maybe a little more salt and pepper around his ears, but incredibly handsome nonetheless.

  She’d convinced herself for months she was over him, but that clearly was a lie, because as he stood in front of her, all she wanted to do was fall into his arms.

  His expression faltered a little. “May I . . . come inside?”

  She nodded and stepped back, still clutching her towel, as he picked up his bag, walked through the door, and shut it behind him. He placed his bag on the floor at his feet.

  They stood in her foyer staring at each other, and she scrunched her toes against the floor.

  He licked his lips. “Please say something so I can gauge whether you are horrified to see me or not.”

  One word finally came out. “No.”

  “No what?”

  “No, I’m not horrified.”

  “Can you give me a word in place of horrified then?”

  He was here. In front of her. “Happy.”

  Spencer visibly softened. “Oh. Oh thank God.” He gestured toward her living room. “Could we talk?”

  Again with her muteness, because all she could do was nod, then turn around and take a seat on her couch. Spencer sat beside her, leaving a foot distance between them. He gripped the ends of the couch, then fidgeted his hands along the hem of his shirt, then dropped them back to his side.

  “I had . . . things to say and now I’m not sure any of them will make sense and I . . . ” He turned to her. “Frankly, all I want to do is look at you. All I’ve wanted to do for six months is look at you. I had to settle for a keychain.”

  She ducked her head and twisted the end of the towel on her legs.

  “I’m sorry, do you want to go get dressed? I can wait.”

  She did, actually, because sitting here in her towel was making her body think weird things, and she needed at least some pants.

  So she stood and held up a finger for one minute and ran to her bedroom. She quickly tugged on a pair of underwear and yoga pants, then threw on a tank top with a built-in bra. She twisted her hair up onto her head in a damp knot and then returned to the living room, where Spencer sat staring at the blank TV.

  “Do you want some water? Something to eat?”

  He startled. “Uh, actually, water would be nice. Thanks.”

  She grabbed two bottles from the fridge and handed one to him, then sat on the edge of the couch facing him, sitting cross-legged.

  He took a drink with his eyes on her. “It’s great to see you.”

  “You too.”

  “Are you still angry with me?”

  The question was blunt, but she understood he wanted to know where he stood. She shook her head. “No.”

  “Because the hotel is being built elsewhere?”

  She shook her head again. “No, I got over being mad at you long before that.”

  He cocked his head. “Really?”

  “I . . . realized what you gave me in the fall was more important than what happened at the end. I tried to stay angry. I tried so hard. But I couldn’t, not when I remembered everything that had been good about us.”

  “There’s a lot of good about us, Sprite.”

  She didn’t miss the tense change in his sentence. “I guess so, Posh.” She squinted at him. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed this . . . would end. Long distance wouldn’t work with us.”

  “What if . . . ” He licked his lips. “What if we didn’t have to do long distance?”

  “I’m not moving to fucking New York.”

  “I would never ask that of you. But what if I lived here?”

  She stared at him. “What?”

  “What if I changed jobs?”

  “Changed jobs?”

  He shifted closer to her now, and a warm hand settled on her knee, lightly. “I have the opportunity to take the job as the manager of the Royalty Suites in Tory when it opens. I’d live here.” She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that was a little presumptuous after they’d spent only a couple of weeks together, but he cut her off. “I didn’t want to take the job without asking you first. What we had was . . . intense, and something we knew all along had an end date. I want to open it back up, and I didn’t want to do that without your consent.” He moved closer now, so that his thigh rested against her legs. “It’s not just about you either, Alex. I’m tired of New York. Of the empty apartment, of the pace. I thought that’s what I needed to be happy, to climb the infinite corporate ladder. But I fell in love with this town. The past six months I’ve missed it. The parks. Playing washers in backyards. Lying under the stars at River’s Edge. And most of all, I missed you.”

  She leaned forward. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you want to move here, work at the new hotel, and continue seeing me.”

  His lips twitched. “Maybe a little more than seeing you. I want to be with you.”

  “With me.”

  “Yes.”

  “You . . . could have your pick of women in New York—”

  “I don’t know about ‘have my pick’—”

  “And you want me. I’m what you want.”

  The muscles in his jaw bunched. “Yes, and don’t insult the woman I love.”

  She laughed, a giddy feeling spreading through her limbs. “I’m not saying I’m not worth it. Because you showed me I am. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. I’m temperamental. I spend a lot of mone
y on lipstick, and I smell like grease a lot.”

  “All things I’ve always wanted in a woman.”

  She shoved his shoulder. “You can’t be serious about this. You want to move? Here?”

  He nodded. “I’m dead serious. If you’ll have me. If you want a posh British boyfriend.”

  She ducked her head and ran her fingers over his hand on her thigh. “What would your dad think of that?”

  He gripped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “I haven’t visited in a long time. I’ve called and we have awkward conversations, but that’s it. With everything that I’d done, I didn’t have anything to show for it. Anything to prove the man that I’d become, that I left everything behind for. But you . . . I think that if I showed up with you by my side, I’d have something for him to be proud of. That someone like you gives a fuck about someone like me.”

  “Ah, Spencer, you’re making me cry.” The tears were almost instant, spilling down over her bottom lashes as she pressed her lips to his. His hand slid along her cheek, to the back of her neck, as he reached his other arm around her back and hauled her across the couch into his lap. She straddled him and clutched his face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, licking the back of her teeth, like he never wanted to separate.

  She hadn’t been with anyone since he’d gone, hadn’t even wanted to, hadn’t thought about it, her libido seeming to have fled when he did. But now it was back with a vengeance, lit up by the feel of him hard between her legs. She wanted skin. So much skin. She rucked up his shirt and slid her hands along his abs, up to his chest, and he helped her by taking off the garment and tossing it to the side. She ran her fingers over his tattoo, his nipples, as he moaned into her mouth and thrust his hips up as she ground down.

  “I didn’t imagine coming here and shagging you within minutes,” he said breathlessly against her neck as she sucked on his earlobe.

  She huffed. “Well, then you have a shitty imagination.”

  He laughed and grabbed her arms, pressing her into the couch on her back while he stretched out between her spread legs. She held her hands up as he pulled her tank top over her head and then cupped her breasts, sucking a nipple into his hot mouth. She arched her back, carving her fingers through his hair as he lapped and nibbled.

  She loved his weight on top of her, his erection pressing against her, his mouth as he covered her torso in kisses. “I love you, Leslie.”

  He froze, his mouth hovering over her belly button. “What?”

  She looked down at him, grinning. “I love you.”

  He scooted up her body so they were face-to-face. “You’re not supposed to say it for the first time during sex.”

  “Oh.” She widened her eyes in mock innocence. “Is that what we’re doing?”

  “Don’t be cheeky.”

  “Well, then let’s get this show on the road so I can say it again afterward.” She kissed his forehead. “And later over dinner.” Kisses to both of his eyes. “And then again before we fall asleep.” A kiss to his nose. “And then start all over again the next day.” She kissed him on the mouth.

  When he pulled back, he shook his head. “Who knew my sprite was a romantic?”

  “Your cock. In me. Now.”

  “Ah, there’s my dirty girl.”

  “Damn right.”

  He didn’t waste time after that, shoving her pants down her legs, doing the same to his, and then he was between her thighs, the head of his cock at her entrance, and entering her as he kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, shoved her face in his neck, and moaned with each of his thrusts.

  This was all she needed. Her town. Her shop. And Spencer in her arms.

  She’d waited a long time to feel wanted. Loved. And she’d never thought it would come from the United Kingdom.

  When she came, she bit down on his shoulder as he gasped into her neck, and they stayed locked together on the couch, hot and sweaty and absolutely so fucking happy.

  SPENCER DIDN’T WANT to move. He was still inside Alex, as she clung to him like a monkey. The couch was soft and after the traveling he had done, all he wanted to do was sink down farther and fall asleep. He closed his eyes, thinking he should roll off Alex, allow her to breathe, but he was so tired. And she was so warm . . .

  There was a knock at the door, and he jolted, tumbling off Alex and onto the floor with a thud. Alex was scrambling too, saying, “Shit, shit, shit,” as she searched the floor for her clothes.

  “Who is that?” Spencer hissed.

  “My sister!” Alex hissed back and Spencer groaned. Ivy had tolerated him for a while when he’d been in town, but he never did seem to get on her good side.

  “Yo, open the door!” said a male voice.

  Alex sighed loudly. “Great, Brent is here too.”

  Oh, and wasn’t that bloody lovely. Spencer tugged on his pants too. But the room smelled like sex and he straightened the couch cushions as best he could while Alex ran to the bathroom, then to her front door.

  Her hair was falling out of her knot, hanging in damp tendrils around her face. There was a hickey on her neck, and this might be comical if he wasn’t trying to impress her family into accepting him back into the fold. He stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head and wincing. “This is a cock-up now, isn’t it?”

  Alex blew out a breath, grinned, then flung the door open.

  Ivy stood with her fist up, about to knock again, with Brent behind her. Thankfully, no small children were present because that would have made things even more awkward. But Ivy was staring at her sister like she had two heads, and Brent had already spotted Spencer. He didn’t seem too happy either. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Ivy’s gaze shifted to him and she gasped. “Holy shit, the Brit is back.”

  Well, that was one way to put it. “Um, hello, Ivy. Hello, Brent.”

  Ivy shoved a shirt into Alex’s arms as she walked past her sister into the apartment, never taking her gaze off Spencer. She stopped in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest. He gazed down at the small woman and waited for her razor-sharp tongue to cut into him. He didn’t even care. He was too blissed out, too happy to care, because Alex was smiling at him from behind Ivy, clearly amused at the situation. Even Brent’s glare wasn’t dulling his buzz.

  “Alex has been doing fantastic since you’ve been gone, just so you know,” Ivy was saying. “I don’t really appreciate you coming back to drudge up old feelings again then . . . flit back to New York whenever you feel like it.”

  “I take offense to the fact that you think I flit,” he said.

  “Oh, shut up,” Ivy growled.

  He wanted to smile but didn’t want to antagonize her. Frankly, he was glad Alex had family who loved her, who had her back.

  Brent stepped forward. “Yeah, Alex even told off ol’ Robby when he showed up out of the blue. Just about the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Spencer jerked his head to Alex at that. “What?”

  She sawed her bottom lip and looked at him with her big blue eyes. “Uh, because of the whole land thing, Payton Auto was in the newspaper. My name was in it, so he found me.”

  “Motherfucker—”

  “But it’s okay.” Alex nudged her sister out of the way so she could stand in front of Spencer, one hand on his chest. “It was good, actually. I finally got the closure I never had. I found out I was a lot stronger than I thought. He doesn’t have power over me anymore, and it was amazing to look into his eyes when he realized it too.”

  Spencer gripped her bicep and squeezed. “That makes me so happy for you.”

  She beamed at him. “You helped me get there, don’t you know that?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. You showed me . . . I could be loved by a good man. And that I deserved it. I told you that you gave me my life back, and I meant it.”

  “We did that for each other then,” he said softly.

  She puckered her mouth, and h
e leaned down to press a kiss to her for-once naked lips.

  A throat cleared, but he didn’t pull out of the kiss until he was good and ready. When he looked up, Brent and Ivy were watching them, his arm over her shoulders. They both looked puzzled.

  Alex turned to face them and Spencer wrapped his arms around her, pressing his front to her back.

  “So here’s the deal,” she said. “Spencer is taking a new job as the manager of the new hotel. So he’ll be living here in Tory. And we’re together. Again.”

  Ivy’s mouth dropped open.

  “And don’t tell me it’s too fast,” Alex said. “Because you and Brent got together in record time too. But Spencer and I want to make this work. He’s changing jobs for me. For me.” She jabbed her finger into her chest as her voice cracked on the last word. “The only other people who have done anything like that for me are you guys. So Spencer and I deserve this chance to be happy.”

  Ivy’s eyes were wet as she blinked rapidly. “Of course you deserve it. You deserve it so much, and I can’t handle all these emotions right now.” She flapped her hands in front of her eyes and widened them.

  Brent didn’t even try to act macho, which Spencer appreciated. He wrapped Ivy in a hug, shuffled them forward until he could pull Alex into his arms, then jerked his chin at Spencer since his arms were full of crying Dawn women. “Come here and get in on this hug, English.”

  Spencer wondered if he’d ever get used to the open affection, but he figured he’d better start practicing.

  So he held out his arms and enclosed them around the sniffling group and laid his cheek on top of Alex’s head.

  Yeah, he was home. Interestingly enough, it was the last place he ever thought he’d be.

  IT WAS ANOTHER half hour before the sisters were done chatting and Brent was able to hustle Ivy out the door, telling her he was sure Spencer and Alex had things to talk about. “Call your sister tonight, okay?” he asked Alex. “Or else she’ll drive me crazy wondering how you are.”

  “Yes, I’ll call,” Alex assured them.