Page 35 of The Big Puck

“It’s hard to have you in this house with me, within reach, and yet so far out of my reach you may as well be on Pluto.”

“Why am I so out of reach? I don’t mean to be—”

“You are off-limits, Lainey. Touching you would be like touching the sun. I would disintegrate.”

He’s talking, saying all these words with such feeling, and yet, I have no idea what he’s trying to say.

“Why? What is it about me?”

“Your essence.”

“You hate me.”

He laughs. “I wish. I wish you were despicable. Because I want you, and I can’t have you.”

He says the shocking words with such finality that the breath is sucked out of me, and I blink. It’s everything I was afraid of hearing, only worse.

“But—”

“No buts, Lainey. You and I… We can’t be. We’re not ever going to be a thing.” He heaves in a breath and whispers, “No matter how much I might want otherwise.”

He picks up the bag lunch off the counter and leaves his half-drunk cup of cold coffee and heads for the back door.

“Thank you. For lunch,” he says, and I think he might mean it, might really be grateful. As he’s going out the door, I remember I need to tell him I’m going to bring Krissy for a visit to his Aunt Hildie at the rehab center. That stops him in his tracks.

“Did she call you—I mean, on the house phone?” He gestures in the direction of the old-style phone on the kitchen counter. I contemplate lying for half a second, which is uncharacteristically cowardly of me, but I square my shoulders and admonish myself that he’s already perpetually annoyed with me, despite his admission that he wants me, but what’s one more black mark? Except I’m supposed to be making his life easier, not annoying him, and certainly not annoying him with my presence.

But based on the deepening scowl he’s aiming at me right now, I’ve clearly undone progress we made—because admitting to his…desire, even if it’s not the same as admitting to feelings, is major progress. So, I admit the truth.

“I called her. I found her number in the box—”

He clenches his jaw in response. And I sense I’ve invaded his life again, a mortal sin, unsettling for him.

“She was delighted—her word, not mine—that I called and thrilled at the prospect of seeing Krissy. I think it’s good for both of them.”

He remains silent for a few beats, a habit he has that I’m becoming accustomed to, so I exercise my newly expanded patience muscle and wait him out.

With a curt nod, he disappears through the back door.

I follow him outside, not wanting him to escape without giving explicit approval. “So, you’re okay with the visit?”

He stops abruptly on the walkway, and I almost bump into him.

“Shit,” he mutters, putting his hands on my arms to prevent the collision. The immediate jolt of sexually charged awareness—because there’s no way to mistake what it is—renders me frozen and speechless and staring up close at his sensual mouth. I bump my gaze up to his deep sad hazel eyes, and butterflies dance around my tummy.

He heaves a deep breath and steps back, removing his hands from me. I notice a slight shake as if I’ve unnerved him, which relaxes me. It’s not good for both of us to be so tense. What would happen to poor Krissy if neither of us felt comfortable in the same room?

“Yes and no,” he says. “Do I want you to infiltrate further into my life? Yes and no. But for Krissy and Aunt Hildie’s sake, a visit is a good idea.” He holds my eyes with his gaze for an extra beat like he expects me to respond, and normally, I would, but I’m too locked into the butterfly-in-the-gut experience to do more than offer my automatic smile of great pleasure, though in this instance it’s possibly tinged with a measure of lust. I hope not, so much so that I clamp my lips tight, taming the smile.

“Great.” That’s all I manage, but it’s enough for him to return to his usual frown. He steps away from me and heads down the walk to the pink Cadillac.

The relief of fresh air and space between us unlocks my mouth from its lusty prison, and I shout after him as he walks to the driveway. “I’ll text you and send pictures. Have a great day. Let me know what you think of the sandwich. And the cookies. Have a great day.” I know I’m repeating myself, and the neighbors are wondering whether I’m a parrot or a person while Spence takes my farewell barrage in stride, literally, as he pulls the pink door closed, at which point, I finally stop speaking and pull myself back inside the house and close the door behind me.

Chapter 13

LAINEY

When I walk into Aunt Hildie’s private room, it’s bright and cheery, and the first thing I notice is the photo on her bedside table of Spencer at his high school graduation with a woman I presume is his mom. He’s smiling, and his mom looks at him adoringly.