8. Spencer

Chapter 8

Spencer

I sat there, frozen. That was everything I wanted, but I didn’t say it. Mostly because I found myself wanting it with her. Each word that came out of her mouth made me want her more, and I didn’t want to put pressure on the situation. If she didn’t feel the same way about me, or as strongly as I did, it would get awkward between us really fast, and neither of us could escape. On the other hand, if we started something and it was good, that would be another kind of pressure.

I was torn.

A declaration like she’d made demanded reciprocity. Only an asshole would leave her hanging, and I would rather die than hurt her feelings.

“I’m processing.” I finally said. I needed a moment to decide how to proceed.

“Oh god. I might die of embarrassment.”

“Don’t. Please. I?—”

She got up and darted into the house, leaving her mug on the table between us.

I heard footsteps, followed by the slam of the bathroom door.

Shit.

I slid my mug next to hers on the table and ran into the cabin. “Lucy!”

“Forget I said anything.” Her voice was muffled behind the heavy oak door.

“I don’t want to forget it.” I shouted, leaning my forehead against the door and pressing a palm against it. “I want to hear more. I want to know everything you’re feeling because I feel it, too. But I’m feeling it specifically about you , and I don’t want to—I’d say I didn’t want to chase you away, but there’s nowhere to go. That’s the only reason why I hesitated.”

The silence between us was deafening until I heard the snick of the lock disengaging, followed by the soft squeak of the door as she opened it. My breath caught in my throat, and I stepped back, hoping she would forgive me.

She stood there, studying my face as she swept a hand beneath her pretty brown eyes to brush her tears away.

“Really?” she asked. Her lower lip trembled, and my heart cracked open.

“Yeah.” The possessive desperation in my voice shocked me. I needed her to understand where I was coming from.

“Good. I mean, I believe you. It makes sense. Maybe we should start trusting our instincts with each other.”

I stepped closer, placing a hand on the doorframe above her head so I could lean in. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to.”

A tremulous smile unfurled across her mouth as her eyes met mine. “I have this horrible habit of saying too much, too soon. I can hardly blame you for needing a second to process it.”

“No. It’s not horrible. I love it. I’m done with games, too. I want to be real with you.”

She bit her lip. “I would like that. I’m always holding something back and tired of it, Spencer. It’s exhausting.”

“Don’t hold back with me. Please.”

“Okay…” she breathed, her hand went to my chest, and I sucked in a sharp breath as goosebumps spiraled outward from the heat of her touch. I lowered my face to hers until our mouths were mere inches apart. The prolonged anticipation was almost too much for me. I sucked in a breath, wishing I knew why I was hesitating.

Time stopped whenever I was next to her. It always had.

Her head tilted to the side as she watched me, worrying that tempting lower lip between her teeth. Then her eyes drifted closed, she relaxed, and her lips parted. She was so small I could tuck her beneath my chin, hold her close, keep her warm, kiss those gorgeous lips, and never let her go…

“No,” I blurted, coming to a decision I wasn’t even aware I was making. “I shouldn’t kiss you right now. It wouldn’t be right.”

“It wouldn’t?” Her eyes flew open, eyebrows drawing down in confusion.

“We’re in an extreme situation. We can’t leave. I won’t take advantage of you.”

“That’s gentlemanly.” She removed her hand from my chest, reaching up to absentmindedly twirl a lock of hair around her finger. I knew it was a habit of hers; I'd seen her do it so many times back when we were in school together, and I’d always thought it was cute, damn it. I needed her to quit being so fucking cute.

“Yeah, that’s me. A gentleman.” I huffed a bitter laugh. I must be out of my mind. All the signals pointed to yes. She all but told me to kiss her.

Trust your instincts.

I couldn’t take advantage of this situation. Stuck here. Nowhere to go. Damn it.

I was my father’s son.

He raised me and my brothers to protect and respect women.

But I had wanted this particular woman for so damn long. Therefore, she was the most important woman to protect and respect. Fucking logic.

I stepped to the side, gesturing for her to lead the way into the living room.

“Should we get more wood?” She turned back to ask. There was a pensive glimmer in the shadow of her eyes as she studied my face. I’d confused her. Hell, I confused myself.

“Yes, but I’ll get it. The snow is pretty deep.”

“Oh. Sure.” A brief look of hurt flashed across her face. “I’ll just—see what’s in the kitchen then. Keep the fire going. Make the bed. Take a sponge bath. Then maybe I’ll make us some lunch.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back.” I grabbed my coat and bolted to the front door to let myself out, stopping short on the porch when I saw it was snowing again. “Damn it,” I muttered as I stalked down the steps.

We couldn’t go home even if we decided to make a break for it and hike to the main road. It wouldn’t be safe for her; she would be knee-deep in snow and possibly waist-deep in some areas, and actually making it to the highway was unlikely. Our only hope would be that my dad or one of my brothers could reach us, but they were busy helping out in town.

When I reached the small woodshed at the back of the property, I pulled my phone from my pocket. There was no signal, and the battery was almost dead. I needed to talk to my father, one of my brothers, or Charlotte. I had too many conflicting feelings running through my mind to sort them out on my own.

Trip after trip of carrying armfuls of firewood to the porch didn’t burn out the tension coursing through my body.

How would I ever be able to hold myself back from her?

There was no way to stall any longer. We had more than enough wood. I stood in the doorway, contemplating my next move as I tried not to stare too hard at Lucy in the kitchen.

She hadn’t heard me come in. Her back was to me as she danced to whatever song she was humming.

I cleared my throat to get her attention. I could not watch her shake that gorgeous ass of hers for one more second.

“Hey!” A startled laugh burst out of her. “You were out there for a while. Did you get wood?” We both noticed the juvenile double entendre at the same time. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter.

It broke the tension that had drifted between us when I left the cabin.

“Yeah, I got it,” I grinned. “It’s piled up on the porch in the rack. I’ll bring some of it in later. The snow is pretty deep back there, like I thought. And it’s coming down again.”

Her hair was piled on top of her head in a haphazard and completely gorgeous topknot. My dad’s red plaid “Kiss the Cook” apron was tied around her waist, but most of all, the sight of her grinning at me as she stirred whatever was making this cabin smell so good in the pot was about to undo every vow I had made to myself not to start something while we were here.

She was fucking irresistible. She was the embodiment of everything I’d ever wanted my future to be, right there within arm’s reach. I could not allow myself to fuck this up.

“Come here. Taste this.” She dipped a spoon from the dish rack by the sink in the pot.

“It smells great.” I rounded the kitchen island and took her hand in mine to raise the spoon to my mouth.

She inhaled sharply and her cheeks flushed that pretty shade of pink I was growing so fond of. Despite myself, I was pleased that my touch had affected her.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

I blew lightly, my gaze fixed on hers, before sliding the spoon into my mouth.

“Delicious.” I watched the play of emotions on her face as a soft smile floated across her lips.

“It’s chicken noodle soup,” she murmured. “My grandma calls it cheater noodle soup—all frozen, canned, and carton ingredients. It’s yummy, though. Are you hungry?”

“Starving. Oreos aren’t the best breakfast. But sometimes I can’t help myself.” I rounded the island again and slid out of my jacket, placing it on one of the barstools at the counter.

She tilted her head toward the sink, and I nodded as she filled a glass with water and slid it across the counter.

“Thanks.” I tipped it back and drained it in one long gulp.

“Anyway, about that—not being able to help ourselves, I mean. I thought about what you said—about not kissing me—and you’re probably right.”

My eyebrows shot up. If she agreed with me, it would make this so much easier. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So, no kissing. We’ll agree that it is forbidden. At least not until after we go home. Does that make you feel better about being stuck with me? No hurt or hard feelings, just a healthy appreciation of our situation and the smartest way to approach it.”

She held her hand across the counter. My lips twitched. I tried not to laugh as I shook it. This was the weirdest deal I’d ever made. “Yes, I feel better. But at the same time, also, no, I do not. Calling it forbidden makes me want it more, just saying.”

“I totally get that. It’s like having naughty Oreos for breakfast.” Laughter lit up her eyes. “I wanted that kiss, Spencer, I’m not going to lie. But, after I thought about it, your restraint impressed me. We’re all alone in this gorgeous, snowy cabin. It’s romantic; there’s a cozy fire, a comfy couch, and two people who have apparently had secret little crushes on each other for years. And let’s not forget about the elephant in the room: there is only one bed. We don’t want to rush things; in fact, we shouldn’t. It’s the smart choice. We just need to find some non-sexy activities to do together to distract ourselves.”

The thought crossed my mind that any activity, no matter what it was, would be sexy if I was doing it with Lucy. I was screwed, no matter what we did.

I took a glance out the window, hoping it had stopped snowing, but no. Fate was tempting the hell out of me today. I had to be strong.

“Non-sexy, huh?” I tried to relax, but her eyes were on me, and I felt the weight of her stare like a damn touch. “Well.” I coughed, eyes darting to the cabinet by the fireplace, needing to look anywhere else so I didn’t have to look at her. “We have a ridiculous amount of board games here, in that cabinet. Probably a few decks of cards, too. We could play games to distract ourselves.”

“Sounds like fun. Oh! I found the liquor. Your dad buys the good stuff. I’m impressed. Maybe later we can drink amaretto sours and play poker. But I have to warn you, I cheat at cards.”

Could she get any cuter? She cheats at cards and admits it, damn.

“Ahh, but is it really cheating if I know you’re going to do it?”

“Hmm, I see your point. I made it part of the rules, didn’t I?” Her head tilted to the side along with one side of her mouth in a sweet little smile.

Was she trying to flirt with me, or is this just how she was now? The Lucy I had known back in school would never be this bold. I liked it far too much, considering the circumstances.

“Something like that.” I couldn’t take much more of this.

“Well, if I cheat at poker, what else will I cheat at?” She made a kissy face at me. “Clearly, I’m not to be trusted around card games or your sexy lips.”

“I didn’t know you were such a troublemaker.” An embarrassing flush heated my cheeks. This was a side of Lucy I had no idea existed, and I was into it.

“I’ve been hiding behind my good girl rep for years, Spencer. Living the solitary, weirdo art girl life. Writing children’s books and doing whatever my mother tells me.”

I let out a short burst of air. I would have laughed and joked along with her, maybe flirted back—what could it hurt? But I was so turned on right now that I couldn’t trust myself. Or maybe I should just kiss her and give us both what we wanted.

Something had gotten into her while I was outside. She knew how badly I wanted her, so that had to be it. My feelings had made her bold, but something in her words held me back.

She deserved more.

Even though my feelings were real, Lucy deserved more than I could offer her while we were here. We had endless hours to wait for the storm to pass and help to arrive. She deserved phone calls, dinner dates, flowers, and wine. Lucy was special, and she deserved to be treated as such.

She’d already told me about how that little shit Skipper McFadden had treated her. I refused to be one of the guys who had let her down.

“Right?” Finally finding some words, I answered, “I’m the one to watch out for if reputation is the only consideration.”

“Totally, you’re—too much. You’re so good-looking, so hot, everyone thinks so. You used to race cars with your brothers on the weekend, Spencer. You drove a motorcycle to school. All the girls wanted to date you. I was a nerdy mess back in high school.”

My eyes raked her up and down. “You were never a mess, Lucy. And you sure as hell aren’t one now.”

“Ha, you must be joking. I’m an entire mess right now, and I’m wearing your sister’s clothes.”

“Most of that stuff is new. Charlotte hates packing, so she buys stuff to leave here. I’ll pay her for it, and you can keep it. I don’t want that thought in my head. Nice try, but it’s not the turn off you thought it would be.”

“The joke is on you.” She waved the ladle around for emphasis. “I’m not trying to turn you off. I just have no filter. Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope. You’re keeping us warm today, so I’ll keep us fed. I got this.”

Damn, flirty Lucy and her lack of a filter were going to kill me.

I should have just kissed her.