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ChapterTwenty-Eight
SPENCER
At the crack of dawn, after tossing and turning most of the night, I throw on a pair of joggers, a long-sleeved shirt, and my running shoes. I need to burn off some frustration. I need to burn offallthe frustration. I need to burn Tess McCoy straight out of my system.
But on my way out to the trail, I run into the last person I want to see. He’s ambling up from the parking lot, as polished and sleek and Firthy as ever. I want to hate the guy, but his smile comes easy. And he’s been nothing but nice to me.
Jerk.
“Hey there, Clive.” His name tastes like a lemon in my throat.
“Hello, Spencer.” His voice is so smooth, it’s closer to a croon.
“Another good night’s sleep at the Granny Smith?”
“Adequate.” He nods. “But I was wondering if I could trouble you for a favor.”
Ugh. No.
“What can I do for you?”
Help you pack and leave town? TP your room at the Granny Smith Inn? Set you up on a date with Mrs. Lockhart? Name it, Colin. I’m your man.
“I was wondering if you might offer me some assistance at the grill tonight,” he says. “If last night’s attendance is any indication, we could be feeding the entire town.” He peers out at the road. “A delivery truck should be arriving in the next hour or so with food, but I won’t ask you to help with the unloading. I know you’ve got to get to the car wash.” He looks down at my outfit. “After your run, I suppose. You do that every morning, don’t you? Go for a jog?”
“I do.” Man. This guy pays attention. It’sreallyhard to hate him. And anyway, I’ve never been good at grudges.
“I keep telling myself I need to get more exercise,” Clive admits grimly, “but I’m afraid I lack your discipline.”
“Yeah. Well.” I scrub a hand over my hair, mussing it up. “I didn’t find mine until recently.”
He arches a brow. “So you’re saying I’ve still got time?”
“I guess I am.”
“And I can count on your help with the burgers tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to your run then. And to your other job. Have a lovely day, Spencer.” Clive continues on his way, and I’m left behind, shaking my head. Conflicted. If there’s one thing I dislike more than a dislikable guy, it’s finding out the guy Ithoughtwas dislikable is actually more likable than not.
At least I don’t have to worry about him and Tess getting together anymore. Not after finding out Mrs. Lockhart forbids any extracurricular activities between her employees. Even if Tesswerelooking for Mr. Right, and if she thought Clive might be the one, she’d never risk her position here. Or his. She’s got too generous a heart to mess with someone else’s job. And I can’t help admiring that, even though it kills my chances with her too.
But maybe, when camp is over—
Hey, Spencer. Knock it off. You’re getting ahead of yourself.
I tend to do that, and last night’s lack of sleep isn’t doing my brain any favors. I just need to stuff these feelings down and get my heart rate up. So I turn around and head out the gate to resume my run, and yeah.
There goes my heart rate.
Because Tess is headed this way, jogging back toward the ranch. She must’ve been on the path that loops along the river. Now she’s headed straight toward me like a wild deer. She got up even earlier than I did to get her miles in. Five. Three. One. Who knows? That’s what I’m starting to appreciate about Tess. The unpredictability. Her spontaneity.
As she gets closer, I stop on the road, waiting for her to approach. Maybe now we can talk about what’s still bothering her. “Hey.” I duck my head when she’s still a few feet away. “We should probably—”
“Can’t talk now.” She runs right past me without another word.
Well. That was spontaneous all right.
“Clive!” she calls out, even though there’s no way he can hear her. “I need you!”
Hold up. Tess can’t talk to me, but sheneedsClive?
Scratch that.
I hate the guy.
