by Terri Osburn
The mention of the nickname Lorelei’s mom had given her when she was a little girl set off a herd of stampeding butterflies in her stomach. Snow couldn’t possibly have known the connection. She wasn’t even sure Granny would remember.
“You hate it,” Snow said, concern etching lines around her hazel eyes. “You can change it to something else. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them they heard me wrong or something.” She shoved a slender hand into her curls. “Maybe you can pick something that sounds close to Lulu?”
“No,” Lorelei said. The perfection of the name calmed the butterflies and put a genuine smile on her face. “Lulu is great. Really.”
Snow didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” In fact, she hadn’t felt this sure about anything in a long time. “You can add the name to the sign that lets customers know the treats are baked in a scary non-licensed and non-inspected kitchen.”
That elicited a laugh from her distributor. “Consider it done. I have a little experience with graphic design. How about I work on some logos and you can pick one Wednesday morning?”
Her first profits, a business name, and now a possible logo all her own? Lorelei felt something akin to pride swelling in her chest. An experience with which she was wholly unfamiliar. “That would be amazing, thanks.”
“Consider it done.” Snow checked her watch. “Shoot. I have someplace to be by six. You mind if I set the trays outside the back door so you can bring your car around to get them?”
Lorelei had forgotten about the trays. “Oh, sure. Don’t let me hold you up.” She’d been considering asking Snow to join her for dinner, but she should have remembered that other people had lives. “I’ll see you Wednesday morning then.”
Snow followed her to the door, presumably to lock it behind her. “And I’ll have a shiny new logo ready to go.”
Lorelei stepped onto the sidewalk, but turned before the door closed. “Thanks again for giving me this chance, Snow. I really do appreciate it.”
“No thanks needed. You came up with a product I can sell. That’s good business.” As Lorelei turned to leave, Snow said, “Hey, do you want to grab dinner sometime?”
The sun gleamed off the bells hanging over the door as they swayed in the breeze. The effect threw a golden glow around Snow’s curls, and the chimes carried an angelic tune. Lorelei smiled at the image. “I’d like that a lot,” she said, nodding her agreement.
“Good,” Snow said. “We’ll talk about it on Wednesday.”
The wild-haired woman closed the door and gave a wave through the glass before pulling the shade back into place. Lorelei all but floated up Fourth Avenue toward her car. She hadn’t expected to make a new friend in the hometown she despised, but oddly enough, that’s exactly what she seemed to have found. The name of her business played through her mind. Lulu’s Home Bakery. Lorelei couldn’t have picked a better name if she’d tried.
Chapter 12
Lorelei stood next to the garage debating whether or not to go up the stairs. She knew Spencer was up there. Granny said she’d invited him for dinner but had been turned down, which was odd enough to make her grandmother worry. Lorelei wasn’t worried at all, or so she told herself. Spencer was a big boy, and the fact that he’d taken a night off from trying to get under her skin was a welcome change.
Except she was dying to tell him that the desserts were a success and show him her first tiny bit of profit. Lorelei even planned to give him a cut. Spencer had helped in the kitchen, getting the treats secured on the trays, and then aided in loading them in the car. It was silly, but the man deserved to be paid for his time and effort. Ten dollars wasn’t much, but it was a third of her earnings from the day.
Still, going up those stairs would be entering dangerous territory. It was one thing to resist Spencer on her own turf. The little apartment over the garage was just that—little. One large room as far as Lorelei remembered. A large room that would include her ex-boyfriend, his belongings, and his bed. Right there. Probably looking all tossed and inviting.
Or maybe that’s how Spencer would look. Tossed and inviting.
“This is stupid,” she murmured, stomping off in the direction of the house. She made it five feet before the voice in her head whispered, Coward. That stopped her in her tracks. Lorelei was not a coward. There was no reason she couldn’t walk into that apartment, share her good news, hand over the cash, and walk right back out.
“You’re not walking into a den of iniquity, Lorelei,” she berated herself as she climbed the wooden stairs. “It’s only Spencer. You can handle Spencer.”
But as soon as he opened the door, she knew she’d made a mistake. A big, fat, holy-lickable-abs mistake. His hair was wet and spiky, his feet were bare, and his jeans rode low and unbuttoned.
Lorelei nearly swallowed her tongue at the same time her libido put on a party hat.
“Hi,” Spencer said, looking less than happy to see her. “Is something wrong?”
Brain function was slow to return. She managed a quick shake of her head, but nothing audible.
Champ barked, drawing Lorelei’s attention away from the incredible body standing before her, which seemed to kick things above the neck back into gear.
“I didn’t mean to bother you, but I wanted to share my good news.” And a shower, the tramp in her brain whispered. Her body tightened as a result of the visual that brought to mind.
“Um . . .” Spencer glanced around the space behind him. A small table held a large pizza box and an empty paper plate. Farther in was a coffee table holding a longneck beer and an open laptop while a news program glowed from the television. “Come on in,” he said, pulling the door open wider before moving the pizza box and plate to the counter, then doing a spin in the tiny kitchenette space. “I was just working on some homework. Do you want a beer?”
Spencer appeared to be off his game, which aided in tamping down Lorelei’s unwelcome response to his appearance. He wasn’t acting like the lovable charmer he’d been at lunch. Or even the confident quiet storm he’d been at the airport.
Something was wrong, and heaven help her, but Lorelei felt a strong desire to beat the crap out of whoever had put that touch of sadness in his eyes.
“I’ll take one, sure.” Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her. Champ butted her with his head, which got him a stroke behind the ear. While Spencer had his head in the fridge, she considered her options.
Getting Spencer to discuss whatever had happened since they’d last seen each other would take a casual approach. She needed to let him think talking about it was his idea. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” she said, taking in the sparse furnishings. Behind the coffee table was a brown couch and matching chair, both overstuffed and likely secondhand. But they were clean, as was the ivory linoleum and beige carpet that covered the floor.
Thankfully, there was no bed in sight. The kitchenette was L-shaped, with a wall that shot out along the right-hand side and ended maybe eight feet into the space that hid the bedroom area.
“It isn’t much, but it’s better than anything I had growing up.” Spencer had never been one to talk about his childhood. His mother hadn’t been a mother at all, preferring cigarettes, booze, and random men to nurturing her only child. His father had never been in the picture. His mother’s family was scattered around the area, but not much better from what she knew. Most of his formative years had been spent in a trailer park not far from downtown—a place he’d longed to escape as soon as high school was over.
All of which contributed to Lorelei’s failure to understand why he ever wanted to stay.
While they’d been together, the plan had been to get their own place, a real house, and make it a home. Except the thought of settling down and popping out kids scared the biscuits out of Lorelei, and sent her running for a westbound bus. Not that she’d been averse to having kids, she just didn’t want to have them in this town and expose them to the same treatment she and her
mother had endured.
But Ardent Springs was home for Spencer and always would be. Even in high school he’d talked about what the town could be. Lorelei didn’t share his optimism or his devotion to the people around them.
On the rare occasions she’d wondered where Spencer ended up, Lorelei would shake him out of her mind. And like a bad penny, he’d pop back up again. Though she never asked anything about him, her grandmother mentioned him often in her letters. Lorelei blamed those letters for not allowing her to forget him.
So maybe that’s what the problem was. Maybe he’d run into his mother. “I haven’t asked about your mom since I’ve been home. How’s she doing?”
He popped the top on the longneck and passed it her way. “About the same. Miserable, angry, and playing the men in town like a bad poker hand.”
Now Lorelei knew there was something wrong. “Have you seen her lately?”
He leaned back on the edge of the counter and crossed his ankles. “Not in a couple months. So what’s your good news?”
So much for the mom angle. Lorelei motioned toward the living area with her beer. “Can we sit?”
Spencer chewed the inside of his lip as his eyes narrowed. He wanted to ask her to leave. She could see it in his face. But manners won out. “Yeah,” he said, pushing off the counter. “Have a seat. I’m going to grab a shirt.”
She was tempted to tell him not to bother, but clamped her mouth shut and made her way to the couch. She sank deeper than expected, which forced her to extricate herself from the cushion. Lorelei scooted to the edge to keep from sinking in again. Champ crawled up beside her and dropped his head on her thigh.
“Is he allowed on the furniture?” she asked, giving the black beast a pat on the head.
“He’s not going to hurt that hand-me-down,” Spencer said. Lorelei turned at the sound of his voice and spotted him pulling a brown T-shirt over his head. Behind him sat a large bed covered in a rumpled gray comforter and black sheets. Only one side of the bed was turned down. The other looked untouched.
She could give him a reason to mess up the other half.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said, closing the computer as he took the empty chair, “but I’m not up for being social tonight. So what’s the news?”
So much for the casual approach. “I noticed pretty quick that you had a stick up your butt about something.” Lorelei pulled the cash from her back pocket and dropped a ten on the table. “The treats sold out at Snow’s today. That’s your share of the profits, since you helped with the packing and carrying.”
“That’s your money, Lorelei. I don’t want it.”
“Well, you’ve got it. Feel free to shove it where the sun don’t shine.” She was off the couch and halfway to the door before he stepped in front of her.
“I’m not taking your money,” he said, trying to put the ten-dollar bill back in her hand.
“You earned it.” She refused to open her hands, resorting to hiding them behind her back. Not the best idea since Spencer reached around her, putting them entirely too close together. “Stop being so freaking stubborn,” she said, the struggle making her breathless. That’s the reason she wanted to believe anyway.
Spencer clamped his arms tight, ending her ability to move. “You’re the stubborn one,” he said, his words coming out breathless as well. “I ate enough cookies to more than pay me for my time. This is your accomplishment, Lor.” Serious brown eyes stared into hers. “You earned that money. You should keep it.”
They stood there, pressed together, for what could have been seconds or hours, with neither saying a word. Spencer’s arms relaxed, but he didn’t push away. Nor did she. Instead, her hands slid up his torso until one rested flat over his heart. She could feel it beating beneath her palm. Warm and alive and in time with her own.
“I wanted to share this with you,” she whispered. But she didn’t mean the good news or the money. And Spencer knew it.
He couldn’t have resisted Lorelei even if he wanted to. Especially when she looked at him that way, as if she’d give him anything he wanted. And tonight, he needed her. Needed something he couldn’t name or explain, but he knew whatever it was, the woman in his arms was the only one who could give it to him.
Spencer leaned close, tilting his head to the right. Lorelei’s head tilted the opposite way as their breath mingled together. The heat from her hands on his chest seared him through the thin cotton as he slid his own higher, one resting on the small of her back, applying a gentle pressure to pull her closer. He desperately wanted to taste her, but was afraid she’d reject him again. That she’d bolt away and ramble more bull about how different she was now. How he needed to keep his distance.
There was no distance between them now, and when Lorelei leaned forward, Spencer took what she offered.
The kiss was slow and gentle, skittish and tentative with closed mouths. Then her hands went around his neck and her lips opened and Spencer was lost. Or maybe he was found. Lorelei tasted like apples and cinnamon and home. Like everything he’d ever wanted and all the things he thought he’d never have. Similar but different. He lifted her off the ground, and long legs wrapped around his hips as she whimpered deep in her throat. Spencer spun them both and pressed Lorelei’s back against the front door.
His hands slipped under purple satin and met hot skin smooth as silk beneath. He cupped a breast, and Lorelei nipped at his bottom lip. As his mouth trailed over her jawline to the spot at the base of her neck that had always driven her crazy, she pressed hard against him, making him burn behind the constraining denim. He wanted to be inside her. To ride away the night, letting Lorelei wash all the hurt and pain away.
But some stitch of sanity stepped forward with the understanding that driving into Lorelei wouldn’t drive away his demons. If anything, having sex with her now, like this, would do more harm than good. His head was in the past, swirling in betrayal and loss. When he made love to Lorelei, it would be about her. About them. Not some consolation sex to make him feel better.
Spencer broke the kiss, but held Lorelei steady against the door. She tried nipping at his lips, but he pulled back, sliding her hair out of her face with shaking hands. “We need to take a breath,” he said, watching desire pool in her eyes and struggling not to give in to his own. “I’m going to let you down.”
She was shaking her head no as her feet hit the floor. “I don’t understand.”
The part of him that was still straining against his jeans didn’t understand either. Spencer took a step back once he was sure that Lorelei could stand on her own. “This isn’t the right time.” Spencer ran his hands over his face. When he looked up, he noticed Lorelei’s cheeks had been rubbed pink by his scruff. “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his thumb along her delicate skin. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Dark blue eyes lightened as they narrowed. “Shouldn’t have done what? I made the move, Spencer. I’m the one who climbed you like a stripper pole.” One finger poked him in the chest. “I thought this was what you wanted. You’ve tried to kiss me twice now. What changed?”
He hadn’t expected the anger. If anything, Spencer thought she’d be glad he stopped them. If she’d wanted to be kissed, she sure as heck had an odd way of showing it.
“What changed with you?” he parried. “You’ve kept me at a distance since you got back. So what’s different about tonight?”
“You looked sad,” she said, then threw a hand over her mouth.
“I looked what?”
“Forget it,” Lorelei stammered, her eyes dropping to the floor. “You’re right, this was a mistake. I never should have come up here.”
Spencer trapped her against the door with an arm on each side of her head. “Are you saying you were about to have pity sex with me? Is that what this was?”
“I didn’t come up here to have sex with you!”
“No, that idea came after you saw how sad I looked, right?” For no rational reason he could name, Spencer was livid.
“I don’t need your pity.”
“And I don’t need to be barked at,” she answered, pushing against his chest. “Excuse me for caring.”
This time he backed off and let her open the door. “I told you I wasn’t going to be good company.”
“Understatement of the year,” Lorelei said, storming down the steps. “Go to hell.”
He watched her stomp across the yard, and though he couldn’t hear what she was mumbling, Spencer had no doubt he was being insulted in varied and colorful ways. All of which he’d earned. She slammed the front door hard enough to shake the windows on the old place, and he remained in the doorway waiting for the light in her bedroom to come on. Which it did seconds later. The jeans hit the wall first, and then the purple top went flying before she disappeared out of sight.
Spencer had royally messed up this time. Whatever ground he’d gained was gone. All because he couldn’t forget the past. Deep down, he knew stopping had been the right thing to do, but turning down a woman like Lorelei wasn’t something a man did without consequences. He’d dinged her pride tonight. That ding would cost him.
Returning to the couch, he stared at the muted weatherman standing in front of a map that showed nothing but thunderstorms for several days to come.
“You don’t know the half of it, Mr. Weatherman,” he spoke aloud, as Champ joined him on the ancient brown sofa. If only he hadn’t run into Carrie today and been reminded of the one thing in his life he could never change. Maybe then tonight would have turned out differently.
“Winning her back is going to be even tougher now, buddy.” The dog rolled over for a belly rub, failing to show the proper concern for his owner’s troubled love life. “We’ll start over tomorrow. Or whenever she agrees to talk to me again. Lorelei can’t avoid me forever, right?”
The dog flopped back onto his stomach and dropped his chin onto the cushions with a doubtful look on his face.
“Your confidence in me is overwhelming, my friend,” Spencer said, opening the laptop before unmuting the TV.
