by Jill Shalvis
was in medical school at the time, and just as busy as I was. At first, everything was fine between us because we didn’t ask much of each other. Though in hindsight, I think I asked nothing of her because my head was always in my work and she didn’t ask anything of me because she knew that and didn’t try to compete. Which really meant that I shortchanged her at every turn, even though I really cared about her. I tried to put her on my radar, I really did. We moved into an apartment, the theory being that at least we’d sleep together every night.”
Colbie was working at not feeling the teensiest little bit of jealousy. No one had ever tried that hard to keep her. She got that the point to this story was that Spence had shortchanged Clarissa, but all she saw was that he’d at least given it everything he’d had at the time to give. “What happened?” she asked.
“We stayed together for several years. She began a charity organization that brought meds and doctors to remote corners of the world, desperate remote corners, which meant she was gone a lot. Which worked for me. It became easy to forget her needs, to forget to put her first. I got out of the habit way too easily. And then came a huge fund-raiser she’d cochaired, and it was incredibly important to her. As it was the only thing she’d asked of me all year, I promised to go.” He shook his head. “She reminded me every day for two weeks and I brushed off her concerns that I’d forget.”
“And . . . you forgot,” she guessed.
“I did.” He looked pained. “I didn’t show up and she went without me, and I didn’t realize I’d forgotten the most important night of her life until she got home late that night dressed to the hilt, steam coming out her ears.”
“She dumped you,” she said, surprised. Up until that moment, she’d assumed he’d been the one to break it off.
“Oh yeah, she dumped me,” he said ruefully. “She said I was going to end up a lonely old man someday. Actually, she yelled that part, right after chucking a shoe at my head. Then she packed her things and moved out, leaving my sorry ass in her dust.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, well. I deserved it. I was a self-absorbed, selfish dick.”
“You don’t seem self-absorbed or selfish to me,” she said.
“Like I said, give me some time.”
She didn’t believe this. Or more accurately, she didn’t want to believe it. The thing was, he said only what he meant, and she knew he meant this, to his core. He’d warned her from the beginning that he would disappoint her.
She just didn’t want it to be true.
“The truth is,” he said, “I’m busy all the time and no woman’s going to be okay with that for the long term. So undoubtedly, I’m going to end up a lonely old man, just like Clarissa so aptly predicted.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I’ve seen you engrossed in work. You’ve still always made time for your friends. And me.”
“That’s because you’re a welcome distraction.” He tugged her hair. “Beautiful, funny, smart . . . but a definite distraction nevertheless.”
She stared at him, torn between melting at what he thought of her and wanting to cry at the knowledge that this would never be anything more than an amazing interlude. “Good thing, then, that I’m just a temporary one,” she said with more cheer than she felt. Because what she felt was a hollow pit in the depths of her gut that she didn’t want to name. She pulled a quarter from her purse and turned to the fountain.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Making a wish.” She tossed the quarter into the water and closed her eyes.
“For . . .?” he asked, sounding worried.
Silly man. Although he should be worried. “For true love. For you.” She opened her eyes and grinned at his horror. “See, you do believe.”
“You’re a scary woman,” he said.
“Now you’re catching on,” she said as from inside her pocket, her phone went off again.
She sighed.
“You should probably make sure the house is still standing,” he said. “Here, let me.” He took the phone and looked at the screen. “Do you have a third brother named Jackson?”
“No.” She took the phone back and stared at it before hitting ignore.
“Problem?” Spence asked.
She took a deep breath, realizing with a shock that she’d so thoroughly distanced herself from her life for the past week she’d actually forgotten about Jackson. “He’s my agent.”
Spence looked surprised. “You must be close to being published to have an agent. That’s great, Colbie.”
His encouragement was sweet, but it also made her feel guilty for not telling him about this part of her life. You’ve only known him five days, she reminded herself. And this escape was private. And extremely important to both her mental health and her career. And whether they knew it or not, it was also important to her family, staff, and editorial team, all of whom counted on her. And in fact, just thinking about it, she felt the familiar smothering pressure to sustain the franchise her life had become sink into her chest.
She looked into his eyes and knew she couldn’t do it—she couldn’t, shouldn’t, keep secrets from him. He was private, incredibly so, but honest. She needed to be the same. At least as much as she could be. “You know how you’re bad at love?” she asked. “Well, so am I. I picked Jackson as my first love and it wasn’t reciprocated.”
His eyes were sympathetic but not pitying, which was a good thing. A nice thing.
“Since the past sucks,” he murmured, slowly pulling her into him, kissing her jaw, “maybe we should stick to the present.”
Good idea. Great idea. But she wasn’t done coming clean. “Spence?”
“Yeah?” His mouth was on her throat now, so erotic and sensual that she felt her eyes roll back in her head.
“There’re things about me that I still haven’t told you,” she whispered. “Things I’m not ready to talk about, at least not yet. Are you okay with that?”
He met her gaze and held it. “I want only what you’re willing to give me, Colbie. No more.”
For a moment, that stopped her. He wanted only what she was willing to give, meaning he didn’t need anything more than that. Which meant he really was fine with this being whatever it was until she left. And after that, the end.
And as she’d said that was what she wanted too, she had no business even thinking about it. None at all.
But she was thinking about it, a lot.
She was thinking how nice it would be if they decided to take this wherever it took them, even past their Christmas Eve expiration date.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t, and she swallowed hard past the disappointment before she spoke. “Given what I just told you, and how I’d feel in reverse, meaning if you were telling me that you were holding something back, I wouldn’t blame you if you want to walk away,” she said softly, and it was with mixed feelings that she watched him crane his neck to look around them, certain he was about to do just that.
“We’re alone out here,” he said instead and pulled her in closer. “Pretty rare.”
“Spence —”
“We all have secrets, Colbie,” he said and kissed her gently, his passion clearly in check. “And we laid out our line in the sand from the beginning.”
“That being . . . that this thing between us is temporary, right?” she said. “Because I’m neither relationship material nor geographically desirable, and you’re . . .”
“Bad at this,” he helpfully filled in for her.
She nodded and then she shook her head. “Except you’re not bad at this, Spence.”
“I am,” he insisted. “And that’s a promise.”
“So you’re saying that it’s a good thing we don’t have time?”
He gave her a small smile.
Yeah. That’s exactly what he was saying. That it was a good thing they didn’t have time. Again, she worked to shove the disappointment deep but wasn’t entirely successful. Time to pull back and regroup, she thought.
“I had fun tonight,” she said. “Thanks for the date. It was pretty incredible.”
“You’re more than welcome. I had a great time too.” The warmth in his gaze, the heat from his body . . . Even with what they’d just discussed, it was all heady stuff. More so when he wrapped his hand around her ponytail and used it to bring her face closer to his. And then he gave her what she was pretty sure he’d intended to be another quick kiss—but wasn’t. Not by a long shot, and when it ended, she had to lock her knees to keep from slipping into a puddle of longing on the ground.
With a gravelly groan low in his throat, Spence drew himself away from her. “That’s getting harder to do,” he said.
“Kiss me?”
“Stop kissing you,” he corrected. “The fountain must be taking your wish seriously.”
She saw the teasing light in his eyes, swirled in with a good amount of heat, and managed a smile in return even though she thought maybe the fountain was taking her wish very seriously indeed.
Chapter 14
#GodBlessAmerica
When Spence got home, he was far too keyed up to sleep. Thinking he’d work, he went to his office and logged on to his computer. But his concentration was even more shot tonight than it’d been all week.
He gave up and went to bed, telling himself he’d get back at it tomorrow.
But he didn’t. Not that day or the next three. That was because for three straight days he pulled Colbie from her apartment and knocked something off her list. He took her shopping in Union Square, for dim sum in Chinatown, and wine tasting in Napa Valley.
But not the nights. The nights he worked. Not full throttle, because his brain felt otherwise occupied with one sweet and sexy Colbie, but he did try. And as he stared at his screens, he realized that he was actually making a very real, very serious attempt at balancing Colbie and work.
As for whether he was successful at it, the jury was still out. But three days in, he sent what he had to both Caleb and Joe—who was consulting with them on the security end—hoping one of them might be able to put a finger on what he was missing. Then he dragged his exhausted ass into bed. It was three a.m. and he looked at his phone for the first time all day.
Three new marriage proposals. One request for a picture of his bare feet. That was a new one. He deleted everything, including a stack of e-mails from investors wanting him to come in on their ideas and bankroll them. He deleted three e-mails from Brandon.
Done, he tossed his phone aside. Then he stared at his window, where the building’s holiday lights were blinking, making his eyes rattle in his head. He texted Elle.
Spence:
Your lights are giving me a seizure.
The Ruler of Your Universe:
Do what the rest of us do in the middle of the night—shut your damn eyes.
Spence:
Seriously. Wake up and shut off the lights.
The Ruler of Your Universe:
I’m not sleeping. I’m doing one of your best friends.
Spence:
Overshare! Shut off the fucking lights, Elle.
The Ruler of Your Universe:
Okay, Grinch, sheesh . . .
Spence tossed his phone aside. Grinch. He wasn’t the Grinch. And just because he chose not to use it didn’t mean that his heart was two sizes too small. He handled the holiday season just fine. He looked around his place. Not one holiday decoration, not so much as a single strand of tinsel.
Okay, so maybe the holidays tended to get to him. His mom was already back east and would be there for weeks. His only other blood relative preferred a damn alley to a perfectly nice, warm apartment. And yeah, he had his friends and he was grateful for them but . . . Well, he still didn’t feel into the spirit. Especially knowing that by Christmas Day, the one person he’d love to celebrate with would be gone.
Shaking his head, he rolled over and closed his eyes. He was deep into the best dream of his life, doing things to Colbie that were making her cry out for more, when he heard something.
“Spence . . .”
Yeah, that’s right, he thought, say my name, scream it—
“He’s smiling in his sleep,” came Joe’s voice. “Why is he smiling in his sleep?”
“Maybe he’s making a breakthrough,” Caleb said. “Don’t wake him up in case he’s solving all our prob lems.”
“I bet he’s dreaming about a woman,” Joe said. “Not work.”
Caleb snorted. “With this problem unsolved? Not likely.”
“He’s only human.”
“But that’s the thing—he’s not human,” Caleb said. “He’s a machine and he’s on the job. That’s all that matters to him. Right, Spence? Wake the fuck up and tell him you’re solving our problems in your sleep and not hooking up.”
“Why are you in my bedroom?” Spence asked without opening his eyes.
“Uh, because we have a meeting,” Caleb said, sounding ticked off.
“Had,” Joe said. “You missed it.”
Shit. Spence sat up. Daylight was streaming into his bedroom. “What time is it?”
“Time for you to tell us if you were bit by a vampire or a woman,” Joe said, eyeing Spence’s neck. “I vote vampire, because when you’re this deep into a project, you can’t remember your own damn name, much less enough niceties to get laid.”
Spence didn’t bother to cover the hickey on his neck, the one Colbie had given him yesterday after he’d taken her for the dim sum in Chinatown. He loved that hickey. Instead he gave them each a shove off his bed and slid out from beneath the covers to head into his bathroom.
“Jesus,” Caleb said, shielding his eyes. “Warn a guy, would you? Put some fucking clothes on.”
A pair of pants hit Spence in the back of his head.
Joe’s doing. Caleb couldn’t throw worth shit. Spence let the pants fall to the floor and headed straight into his shower.
“Think he got laid?” he heard Caleb ask.
“Hope he did,” Joe said. “He’s been pissy as hell.”
“I’m not pissy!” Spence yelled, turning on the water.
“Nope,” Caleb said. “He didn’t get laid.”
That morning Colbie sat in the coffee shop with her laptop. Her fingers were moving on the keyboard, always a good thing. She was writing something new and she had absolutely no idea if it was any good. But she figured she could fix crap on a page. What she couldn’t fix was a blank page.
The important thing was that she’d been in San Francisco for nine days now and her rough draft was coming along with shocking ease, thrilling her heart. She was several pages in when she recognized the battered athletic shoes that came into her vision. She let her gaze run up a set of long denim-covered legs, past a jacket and an untucked, unbuttoned shirt over a T-shirt that said Ride or Die, and felt all her good spots tingle.
“Hey,” Spence said. He had a black Lab at his side on a leash and was holding a coffee to-go cup and a brown bag that smelled amazingly delicious.
“Hey back.” Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d had only coffee and she’d missed breakfast hours ago now. “Something smells like heaven on earth.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, but I don’t think it’s you,” she said. “It’s whatever’s in your bag.”
Willa just happened to be walking past her table with a tall, good-looking guy. Keane, her boyfriend, Colbie assumed. They kissed and he got in line for them while Willa stopped to talk. “Don’t even bother to ask Spence to share,” she told Colbie. “He never shares his muffins. Ever.”
Spence gave the bag to Colbie and Willa sputtered. “Are you kidding me?”
Spence just smiled at her and handed her the black Lab’s leash. “I’ve got to get to work, but he’s done his business.”
