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Chapter Thirteen
Spencer couldn’t believe what he was doing, but an old flame had been reignited the moment he’d entered the same space as Clarissa, over two weeks ago. It burned brightly within him, and she’d been stoking it with her presence, her acceptance of his confessions, and letting him hold her hand.
At the same time, he knew he didn’t want to go too fast. He forced himself to go slow, to really experience kissing her again. This was the first woman he’d kissed in a good, long while, and he sure did like the way she melted into him. The way she ran her fingers up through his hair, dislodging his hat. The way he finally relaxed, feeling comfortable with himself and with her, also something that hadn’t happened in a long time.
She smelled like a hint of orange and a bit of vanilla, mixed with that delicious steak she’d grilled up for those tacos, and he simply could not get enough of her.
He pulled away first, his heart booming in his chest, and his fingers tingling slightly from the chemistry in that kiss.
Clarissa ducked her head so he couldn’t see her face, but Spencer couldn’t contain his smile. “I think that’s the first time you’ve told me yes,” he said quietly.
She tucked herself into his arms, and they swayed slightly. He remembered her going silent after their last first kiss, and he didn’t mind it so much. The breeze kicked up a little, and the sky continued to darken.
After another big breath, he said, “I got some of those frozen chocolate lava cakes. Do you maybe want to come over and try them with me?”
She pulled back and looked up at him, so many emotions swimming in her eyes. “Frozen lava cakes?” she asked in the most disgusted voice ever.
Spencer chuckled, the sound growing inside him until it became a true laugh. “They might be good.” He threaded his fingers through hers and tugged her to get her to come with him. “Says they only take a few minutes in the microwave.”
“I am not eating a cake that came out of the microwave,” she said, but her feet moved with him.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll eat it and tell you how it tastes.” He just wanted her to come with him. She did, and they crossed the lawn between their houses to his.
“How’s the bed in here?” she asked. “You said you needed to get a mattress pad.”
“I did,” he said. “One of those big, four-inch-thick memory foam pads.” He grinned at her as he entered the cabin. “It’s better.” A lot better, but he didn’t want her to feel bad about the bed. He shouldn’t have brought it up on the Sunday-afternoon horseback riding session.
“And the cabin?” She looked around as she entered, and Spencer wasn’t sure what she expected to find. If she thought he might put out family photos or mementos, she’d be sorely mistaken. He did have a print of a mustang he’d found at a farmer’s market several years ago, that one of his friends from Hope Eternal had painted, but that was it.
He’d hung the horse on the wall above the television, which he’d barely used since moving in over the weekend.
“The cabin is great,” he said. “The coffee maker works, and it’s just me, so there’s not much fuss.” He’d shared a house with three other men, and sometimes more, so having a place all to himself was actually a little bit like heaven. “It’s clean. I love the back porch.”
“Good.” Clarissa met his gaze then, a smile on her face and reflecting in her eyes. “You’re not going to be seeing much of that new, comfortable bed, I’m afraid. We havesomuch to do before you take over.”
They did, but Spencer wasn’t worried about it. He was a quick study, and with the pretty, strawberry-blonde at his side, even a long day wouldn’t feel like it.
“All right,” he said, opening his freezer. He’d gone to the grocery store on Sunday evening, and he hadn’t been able to figure out how to sleep without a bit of chocolate in his stomach. Lord help him, he’d tried over the past thirty-seven years, but he didn’t think it was possible. “Let’s see how these shape up in the microwave.”
“I’m so grossed out by this,” she said, entering the kitchen with him. “Cherry loves this kind of stuff, though.”
“She didn’t get the cooking gene?” he asked, taking out the two frozen cakes. They looked good to him, and he did what the package instructed him to do.
“Not really,” Clarissa said. “She once started a fire with butter and onions.” She giggled, and Spencer liked the sound of that.
“Where is she?” he asked, needing her to fill the silence with talk this time. He’d said so much that evening already, and he knew he was going to have to address his father at some point. He wanted to go talk to Nate, who always gave him great advice, and he pulled out his phone to text the man.
“Cherry? She’s a counselor over veterinarian technicians as SATC.”
“Wow,” Spencer said. “So she’ll be in San Antonio when you get there.” He looked up from his partial text.
“Yes,” Clarissa said in a tone that told him she really didn’t want to talk about her sister.
He forged on anyway, dropping his gaze back to his phone. “Are you going to stay with her while you figure out a job?”
“I don’t know.” Clarissa retreated from him in more ways than one, but he quickly sent his text to Nate about maybe getting together for dinner soon.
Come anytime, Nate sent back.Slate was just asking about you.
