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“Yeah. About that. Did you need a second job to afford all those lettuce heads?” As the question come out, I cringe. I was aiming for funny, but my tone sounded harsher than I’d planned. Spencer’s got me thrown way off balance. “Sorry.” I soften my voice. “I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind.” Spencer pulls the rag from his pocket, and his shoulder muscles pulse. If he’s doing that on purpose, I sure wish he’d stop. “The library pays me okay,” he says, “but I’m saving up for a down payment on a house. Moving back in with my parents was a temporary compromise. So I need all the extra money I can get.” He sets the squirt bottle and rag on the hood of my car. “You probably wouldn’t understand, being a McCoy and getting to live for free in Nash Hendrix’s house.”
“Hey.” My fists hit my hips. “I’ll have you know, I pay rent.”
Spencer’s mouth goes officially crooked. “Then I stand corrected. Which may be a first when it comes to you.”
Jill throws a hand up. “Heh heh heh.” When I frown at her, she backpedals fast. “Tess may be a McCoy,” she says, “but she makes her own money. And she works hard. Mostly.”
Wait. What?Mostly?
“I’m sure she does.” Spencer turns to me, tapping his chin. “Remind me. How many jobs have you had in the past two years?”
“Notthatmany,” Jill offers on my behalf. I’m about to thank her for the support, but she adds, “I mean, sure, she bailed on law school. And then on her job at McCoy Construction. And before that, she worked with me at The Clumsy Goat.” Jill wrinkles her nose. “Until she quit.”
“Waitressing just wasn’t my thing,” I mumble.
“Hmm. You make quite the convincing argument.” Spencer’s expression is deadpan. As usual. “I heard you’re going to be the director of Apple Valley’s summer camp. Or did I get that wrong?”
“Yes.” I grit my teeth. “You’re wrong.”
“Oh. So you flaked on that job too?”
“No. We’re calling it theSunny Camp, and I’m theassistantdirector.” I stuff my hands in the pockets of my cut-off shorts. “And exactly how many people have you been probing for information about me?”
“Exactly zero.” He points at the station wagon he’d been washing, and when his eyes meet mine again, my stomach flips over. But it’s just a tiny flip, and only because he’s so insanely frustrating. “That’s Miranda Lockhart’s car over there,” he says. “She was in the shop earlier, and she mentioned to Frank that she’d hired you for the camp.”
“So you were eavesdropping.”
“No, I just happened to overhear them.”
I can’t help it. I feel a twinge of disappointment that Spencer wasn’t actually trying to find things out about me. But seriously. What’s that about? It’s not like I suddenly care about the guy just because he took his shirt off. And his glasses. Now the amusement in his eyes is even easier to see.
Speaking of which.
“What happened to your signature lenses, Clark Kent? I hardly recognize you without them.”
Thanks, understatement of the year.
“Oh.” Spencer reaches up like he’s nudging the non-existent frames up his nose. “They get splashed on while I’m washing cars, so I put in contacts.”
“I didn’t know you wore contacts.”
“I don’t.” He shrugs. “Except here. I prefer my glasses the rest of the time. I don’t know why.”
“I do.” Snort. “It’s because you’re a freakish creature of habit who’s uncomfortable with change.”
“I like your glasses,” Jill chimes in. I’d almost forgotten she was standing there.
“Dude!” Frank calls out, and we all shift our gaze to Spencer’s brother, who’s waving at us from his shop, just outside the wall of doors to the garage. He’s wearing a ball cap and olive-drab coveralls. I can’t help wondering if he’s got muscles like his brother does under there. Then I sneak another quick peek at Spencer’s abs.
“You need something, Frank?” Spencer shouts.
“Ineedyou to get dressed!”
Whoa. Did Franklin Crane just read my mind? He starts ambling our way, wiping his hands down the front of his coveralls. When he reaches us, he appraises Spencer from bare chest to sneakers. “Mrs. Lockhart’s gonna be back to pick up her Volvo any minute. She paid for a tune-up and a car wash, not to see my brother half naked and flirting with customers.”
Spencer’s jaw shifts, and the tips of his ears turn red. I can’t tell if Frank is mad at him or just giving his brother a hard time. And Spencer was definitely not flirting with me. So before I can stop myself, I speak up.
