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I glance at the clock. 9:15. Spencer’s probably on his way over from the library now, waiting to show his gratitude to me in person. Which is fine. Patience isn’t one of my best traits, but I can be the bigger person and not be annoyed that it took him so long to acknowledge my awesomeness.
I just wish I could get this ache in my chest to go away. I hate that feeling. It’s kind of like dread. Like I did something wrong, when I’m positive I didn’t. Anyway, no sense dwelling on all this more than I already have.
After hitting send on the daily report for Mrs. Lockhart, who hasn’t surprised us with a visit yet today—knock on wood—I shut the laptop and head out of the office, planning to hurry to the amphitheater.
I don’t want to be late for the show.
For our second night at camp, I asked each group to write a skit, or change the lyrics to a song so it’s about camp, or maybe make up a dance to perform for everyone. The kids and counselors have been rehearsing in separate spots around the campsite throughout the day. I can’t wait to see what they come up with. But as I’m heading down the dirt road from the office to the amphitheater, something stirs in my peripheral vision.
A large figure is moving in the shadows, creeping through the trees. Before I can think, my heart leaps into my throat, and blood throbs in my ears.
On instinct, I scream.
And that’s when Clive emerges onto the path. He throws up his hands. “It’s just me.”
Relief floods through my body, and I let out a long gust of air. Then I gasp to refill my lungs. “You … scared … me.”
“I was just taking a shortcut over to the amphitheater.” He glances around at the darkness. “Insufficient lighting is our enemy.”
“Why are you still here?” I place a palm to my chest. My heart is pounding so hard, I’m surprised my ribs aren’t cracking.
“I promised the campers I’d stay to watch their performances,” he says. “But I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He takes a few steps toward me. “My apologies, Tess. I do hope you’re all right.” He extends both his arms, coming closer. Hold on.
Is Clive going in fora hug?
“Step away from her,” somebody growls. An earthquake of words, jagged and rocky. My entire body breaks out in chills.
“Spencer?”
He emerges from the darkness, clicking on his flashlight, blinding Clive. “Can’t you see she’s terrified?” He grunts. “Give her some space. Now.”
“Would you please turn that thing off?” Clive raises a hand to block the beam, but Spencer keeps the light trained on him.
“I will if you stop creeping around in the bushes, jumping out at women.”
“I didn’t mean any—”
“You’re lucky the kids are all at the campfire singing,” Spencer mutters. “They would’ve been terrified, too, if they heard what I heard.” Spencer lowers his flashlight and steps between Clive and me. As he gazes down, his brows contract. “Are you all right?” His volume is quieter now, but the tone’s still raw.
“I’m fine,” I say, even as my head spins. Wow. Clive really took it out of me. Or maybe I’m just dizzied by the weight of Spencer’s concern. I won’t lie.
It’s pretty sexy.
He’s not touching me, but for some reason, I still feel wrapped in his embrace. Then my knees go weak, and I stumble forward. Spencer’s flashlight clatters to the ground as he catches me. “I’ve got you,” he says, steadying my body. His grip is firm but gentle.
“All right, then.” Clive clears his throat. “As long as everyone is okay, I think I’ll make my way over to the show now. Again, my apologies, Tess.”
My instinct is to tell Clive I’m absolutely fine—that this was an overreaction on my part—but as I gaze up at Spencer, my tongue is too tangled. I didn’t like the fear, but being the girl someone rescues isn’t all bad.
I’ve always felt like a strong, independent woman who takes care of herself. But in this moment, I can’t bring myself to break the spell of his protection. So Spencer breaks it first.
“I’ll make sure Tess gets over to the amphitheater,” he says, shifting his focus to Clive. “When she’s ready.”
“Good man,” Clive says. I can’t see the expression on his face, so I just listen as he leaves. His footsteps dislodge gravel as he retreats down the road. Once we’re finally alone, Spencer lets out a long, low sigh. Then he pulls me in for an embrace.
Whoa.
He practically attacked Clive for hugging me. And now Spencer is … hugging me? Hypocrisy is against his whole moral code. He’s an Eagle Scout Librarian Clark Kent Superhero. Spencer Crane does no wrong.
