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Chapter Nine
Spencer didn’t like Clarissa’s reaction to him coming to dinner, and he stewed over what to say to her. Anything? Let it slide? Deal with her family tonight?
In all honesty, he could stay home too. Just send a couple of texts about how he couldn’t make it, and he’d drop by and talk to Wayne whenever.
“Why does that bother you?” he asked, dipping his spoon into the soup and picking up a grilled cheese square. He ate the bite as Clarissa started cleaning up her splattered soup. That probably made him a jerk, but he figured she didn’t want him staring at her while she composed herself.
“It doesn’t,” she said.
“Liar.” He set down his spoon and leaned away from the table.
Her eyes flew to his. “I am not a liar.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” he said, hoping to make this serious moment light. But shehadjust lied to him. “I’m just going to ask a simple yes-or-no question. Whatever you say is fine with me.” It wasn’t really, but he’d at least have his answer.
“Oh, someone else is lying now,” she said, and Spencer could’ve categorized it as flirting.
He folded his arms and quirked his eyebrows at her. “Would it so terrible if we got to know each other again?” He held up one hand. “Yes or no. That’s all I need.”
He’d like a lot more, but Spencer knew better than most that all of his wants weren’t always granted.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, it would be terrible if we got to know each other?” He started nodding. “All right. I can—”
“I mean, no,” she said over him, almost yelling it. They sat there and looked at one another, and Spencer’s pulse hammered in his chest.
“No,” Clarissa said, some of the panic in her expression starting to calm. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing that happened if we got to know each other again.”
Spencer nodded, his throat suddenly so dry. He didn’t know what to add to the conversation, so he picked up his spoon and took another bite of soup. “My mom taught me how to make this soup when I was just twelve,” he said, and that was about as personal as he could get. He didn’t talk about his mom, to anyone, hardly ever. Ginger was the only one who knew much about Melody Rust at all.
“She did?” Clarissa asked, taking up her first bite of soup. Spencer watched her put it in her mouth, and he saw the moment she tasted it. “Spence, this is fantastic.”
He grinned at her. “You weren’t expecting it to taste good.”
“I’m a little surprised,” she admitted. She took a bite with a crouton. “Very good.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“You said you had ‘very few’ skills in the kitchen,” she said. “I distinctly remember those words in the text.”
“I put a piece of sliced cheese on the bread,” he said. “I didn’t make the cheese from raw milk.”
She giggled and took another bite. “It’s not too hard, I swear.”
“Oh, I think your mama frowns on cursing,” he teased, and he was definitely flirting with her.
Clarissa tipped her head back and laughed, and Spencer didn’t think she did that all too often. He was glad he could prompt such a thing, and he grinned at her.
“Tell me about your mom,” she said as she quieted. “I don’t think you talked about her before.”
“I’m sure I didn’t,” he said. “I, uh, don’t talk about her much at all.”
“Bad times?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, kind of, but not because of her. Because of my dad.”
Clarissa trained those pretty green eyes on him, and Spencer wanted to tell her everything. “I’ll give you the short version.” After all, she was still planning on leaving Sweet Water Falls, and he was probably a huge fool for even bringing up the idea of getting to know one another again. She’d just leave again.
