Taste

by Cambria Hebert

  What if it was them? What if they were calling me to ask me why the president wasn’t dead?

  As I freaked out, the phone stopped ringing. The room was thrust back into silence.

  It was probably just a wrong number.

  I left all the lights on and exited the room, taking my tea, snack, and phone with me. My foot hit the bottom step and the phone started ringing again. It startled me and I jumped, spilling the hot tea down the front of my shirt.

  I yelped and quickly unloaded what I was holding onto the step and pulled the saturated shirt away from my skin. Beneath it, my stomach stung from the burn.

  The phone was still ringing and it pissed me off. Not only was I scared, but now I was burned, and if this ringing woke up Jack, I was going to scream.

  “What?” I hissed into the line after I silenced the evil ringing.

  “Elle?” answered a familiar voice.

  “Spencer?” I said, surprised. All the anger drained away.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” he said. “Did I wake you?”

  “No. How did you get my number?” I asked suspiciously, still holding the shirt away.

  “From your file at work,” he said, like it was obvious.

  “I didn’t realize employee files were community property.”

  “They aren’t.”

  Damned if I didn’t smile at the sheepish tone of his voice.

  “Why are you calling, Spence?” I asked.

  “I’m outside.”

  “What!” I gasped, looking toward the nearest window. Of course I had all the blinds and curtains drawn so I couldn’t see anything. Even if I could, he wouldn’t just be standing there out in the open.

  I hope.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here!” I hissed.

  “Can I come in?” he asked, and I noticed he was trying to keep his voice low.

  I couldn’t exactly say no. Having a guy lurking around my property would look suspicious. And yes, okay, maybe a tiny part of me wanted him to come inside.

  “What door are you at?” I asked.

  “I’m not at any door yet.” He paused briefly. “Turn off all the lights on the main floor like you’re going upstairs for the night. Leave the back door unlocked. I’ll come in after a few minutes and lock the door behind me.”

  “Ummm,” I said, not sure I was totally comfortable with this plan. “I have all the lights on for a reason,” I told him.

  “I won’t be seen in the dark,” he said. “It’s easier to hide in the shadows.”

  I shivered. If he was in the shadows, who else was, too?

  “Elle,” he whispered. The sound of my name drew all my attention to the voice in my ear. “If you don’t want me to come in, say the word. I’ll leave right now.”

  A little bit of panic rose up inside me. I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want to go upstairs and know just moments ago he’d been here, but he no longer was.

  Without saying anything, I walked through the main floor and shut off all the lights. If he was as close as he said, he would know what that meant. Then I unlocked the back door.

  Please, don’t let this be a mistake.

  I stood in the center of the kitchen, my bare feet against the cold tile, and gripped the phone to my ear, not saying a word.

  He didn’t say anything either.

  A few seconds later, the back door creaked open. It wasn’t that loud of a sound, but to me it was deafening.

  Spencer quickly shut the door behind him and turned, withdrawing something from his pocket. The dim glow of his phone illuminated just a portion of his face as he held it up to shut off the call and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

  I, too, hung up my phone.

  We stood there listening to the night, making sure there were no other strange sounds. When everything appeared to be fine, Spence moved quietly across the room and took my hand. His fingers were warm and they linked through my chilled ones with confidence. He tugged me through the house, moving with grace even though it was pitch black and he didn’t know where any of the furniture was.

  When we reached the stairs, I hurried in front of him to pick up the stuff I left on the step. When I couldn’t fit it all into one hand, he reached out and took the mug, preferring to carry it for me, releasing my hand.

  I forgot how intimate holding hands was.

  People don’t realize how singular they are. How contained their bodies are and how we mostly have a bubble of personal space around us. Holding hands with Spencer was like he defied all of that. He bypassed it by reaching into my bubble and linking us together. His fingers weaved through mine seamlessly, like it was exactly where they belonged. My personal space was invaded; that little bubble around me popped.

  I didn’t mind at all.

  At the top of the stairs, Spence paused, not sure which way to go. I tugged him into the room on the right—my bedroom. After I dumped everything in my hand onto the bed, I left the room to once again check on Jack.

  He was sleeping like a little angel, and it made me feel even more at peace.

  When I left his room, I skidded to a halt in the center of the hallway. Spencer was leaning in the doorframe leading to my room. From the lamp lit in my room, I could see him for the first time since he came inside. He was dressed in a pair of low-slung dark jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved black waffle-knit tee.

  There was a black baseball hat pulled down over his face, covering his dark-blond hair and concealing a lot of his face.

  As I stared at him, he tipped his head back to stare at me from beneath the brim. “Hey,” he rumbled.

  “Hey,” I echoed. The wet fabric of my shirt brushed my skin and I remembered I was wet, had on no pants and no bra.

  I hurried toward my room, mortified and wanting to actually put on some clothes, but Spencer didn’t seem to realize my haste.

  I stopped short of colliding with his broad chest.

  “I need to, uh, change,” I said, my voice totally unsteady. He affected me in ways I’d never known. It was amazing how just his close proximity could make my body flush with heat yet also make me tremble with nerves.

  “I like ya just the way ya are,” he drawled.

  I glanced up to where his eyes were shaded by his hat and fought the giddy sensation rising up in my middle. “I spilled tea all over my shirt. It burned me,” I blurted out.

  Like you couldn’t have thought of anything even remotely sexy to say? I scolded myself.

  This is not the time to be sexy! another voice within me shouted.

  My Jekyll-and-Hyde bickering was cut short when Spencer straightened from lounging inside the doorframe and narrowed his eyes on me. “You burned yourself?”

  He snatched my hand and pulled me easily into the bedroom.

  “Let me see.” He motioned for me to take off my shirt.

  I sputtered and then laughed. “You can’t actually think I’m just going to strip off my shirt.”

  “Why the hell not?” he demanded.

  “Because it’s the only thing I’m wearing?” I replied like it should have been obvious.

  “Now is not the time to try and seduce me, Elle,” he deadpanned. “I need to see how badly you’re burned.”

  “I’m not trying to seduce you!” I said, incredulous.

  “Good,” he countered. “Then it won’t matter if I take a look.”

  Before I could tell him what a freaking idiot he was, his hand snaked out and grabbed the hem of the shirt and lifted.

  I gasped and tried to jump back. It didn’t work out to well because he had a hold of my shirt. “Hold still,” he scolded. “The last thing you need is any more injuries,” he muttered and continued to yank up the fabric.

  Total embarrassment washed over me, and I quickly folded my arms over my breasts so he couldn’t lift the fabric high enough to see them.

  Cool air washed over my hips and stomach as Spence reached up and slid his hat around so that he was wearing it backward and was able to get a better lo
ok at my body.

  God, he looked sexy in that hat.

  And from this close, I could see the scruff growing in on his jaw area. It was dark blond too and made him look totally delicious.

  Holding up my shirt with one hand, he reached out with the other, gliding his fingers across my stomach, just below my ribcage. “Here?” he whispered, staring at the area.

  I nodded, not bothering to glance down. The skin stung lightly as he caressed it. I didn’t care. Frankly, it could hurt like hell and I still would have let him touch it. Desire suffused my limbs, making them heavy. I felt goose bumps break out over my bare skin, and maybe I should have been embarrassed at my reaction because really there wasn’t anything sexual to what he was doing, but my body sure as hell acted like there was.

  He frowned a little when my muscled trembled beneath him, and he glanced up. “Does it hurt?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak.

  “It’s just red. No blisters,” he answered, not looking back down at the “burn,” but not pulling his fingers away either. Spencer watched me as he dragged the tops of his knuckles down the curve of my waist and moved across my navel.

  “You burned anywhere else?” he rumbled in a low, throaty tone.

  Man, I wish I was. I wished I could point out a thousand injuries just to give him a reason to not lift his hand.

  “No,” I whispered.

  He glided his hand over my hip and curved his palm around the dip in my waist, tugging me just a little bit closer. Just one step… that’s all I needed to take to bring my bare waist up against his body.

  I tilted my head back when he bent, lowering his face toward mine. I anticipated his kiss, craved it… Part of me thought I might need it.

  He stopped just inches away, his heavy-lidded eyes spearing mine. “Nice drawers,” he whispered.

  It took me a second to realize what he said. I was too far under his spell.

  But when his lips turned up in an ornery smirk, his words penetrated my lust-laden brain. I gasped and leaped back, pulling my shirt from his hand and yanking it down over my “drawers.”

  “Oh my God!” I burst out. “You are such a pig!”

  He laughed. “What? I was paying you a compliment.”

  I groaned, still yanking at the hem of my shirt. “You’re making fun of me!” I challenged.

  He laid a hand over his heart and looked at me solemnly. “I do swear no one wears polka dots like you do.”

  I. Was. Going. To. Die.

  Spencer was saved from murder when Jack’s cry carried across the hall. The bottom fell out of my stomach, and I raced across the hall and into his darkened room. My baby was sitting up in his crib, rubbing his eyes and fussing.

  “Hey there, little man,” I said gently. “What’s the matter?”

  He lifted his arms to me and I picked him up. Immediately, he snuggled against my chest, laying his head on my shoulder. I rocked on my feet, holding him close and letting my heart rate return to normal. His outcry scared me more than it should have, but in just a day, I’d become the most paranoid person I’d ever known.

  I swayed back and forth, rubbing his back as he slipped back into sleep. I didn’t put him down right away. I learned that the hard way. I had to wait until he was fully asleep before laying him back down; otherwise, he would just wake right back up again.

  As I swayed, I spun around, humming softly. My movements were momentarily paused when I saw Spencer in the doorway, watching me.

  Rather than say anything, I turned back around and continued rocking until I was certain he was asleep.

  After Jack was back in his crib, I left the room. Spencer was no longer in the doorway. He was sitting on the end of my bed when I stepped back into my room. All the excitement and desire I felt at his touch just moments ago was dissolved into weariness.

  “You look exhausted,” he said quietly.

  “I’m okay,” I replied as I rummaged around in my dresser for some pajamas that were appropriate to wear (aka: ones with pants). Another thought of a warm shower taunted me.

  I glanced at Spencer. “Do you need to leave yet?”

  “You inviting me to spend the night?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  “Too bad.” He sighed.

  “Never mind,” I said, giggling at his antics.

  He appeared behind me, soundless, once again crowding my personal space. “What do you need, Elle?” he asked softly.

  You. I need you.

  Whoa. Where did that come from?

  I shook my head to clear away the thought. “I’d really like to take a shower, but I don’t want to leave Jack by himself.”

  “I’ll stay,” he said. I barely heard him as air expanded his chest and it brushed against me. “Jack will be fine.”

  “I’ll hurry,” I said, taking my clothes and rushing away.

  He caught my elbow and pulled me around. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  In the bathroom, I sagged against the closed door.

  I knew Spencer only meant he would stay until I was done in the bathroom, but I couldn’t help but wish he’d meant it a different way.

  8

  Warm water poured over my skin, soothing some of the worst of my aches. I stood under the pressure for the first few minutes, just standing there, blinking the water from my eyes and watching it swirl around my toes. It was nice to have a few quiet minutes to myself, a few moments when I didn’t have to pretend everything was okay or lie about what was really going on. Just knowing Spencer was out there making sure everything was safe for a little while was such a relief.

  No, I didn’t need him to do it, but sometimes I got tired of being the strong one all the time.

  Still, I wasn’t his responsibility and neither was Jack. So I grabbed up my coconut body wash and used my little white pouf to scrub myself down. When that was done, I took the time to shampoo and condition my hair, knowing I might not have this chance tomorrow night.

  I had to force myself to turn off the water, to end the little steamy world I’d just created. Beyond this shower curtain, outside this bathroom, the real world was waiting, and quite frankly, the real world sucked ass.

  Before dressing, I hurried to slather on some body lotion and gingerly apply some Neosporin to the cut on my forehead. It was turning an ugly yellow shade around the edges, so I figured it was beginning to heal. I wasn’t about to take the time to blow out my long blond hair, so I smoothed some product in it and braided it in two braids that hung over my shoulders.

  Once that was done, I pulled on a pair of black cotton sleep shorts and black tank top with a built-in bra. Over the tank, I added a fitted gray T-shirt, took a deep breath, and left the bathroom.

  I checked in on Jack (he was fine) and then went into my room. Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed with his cell phone in his hand.

  “I didn’t mean to keep you,” I said, realizing he probably had better things to do than be here.

  He tossed down the phone and stood. “You didn’t.” His eyes roamed down my body, lingering on my legs. I found myself hoping he liked what he saw.

  Spence pushed off the bed and came closer. His muscles moved and shifted as he walked. He looked so powerful, almost like a predator. “You look exhausted.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s hard to relax when people are threatening my son.”

  “We’re going to catch these guys, Elle,” Spencer swore.

  “Thanks for staying while I took a shower. And for checking in,” I said, not acknowledging what he said. I wanted to believe him; I truly did. But I felt like getting my hopes up would be allowing myself a false sense of safety when what I really needed was to be on guard.

  Spencer stepped closer, angling his body so it aligned with mine. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, and I was tempted to lean into him. “I’m not leaving.”

  My eyes were fixed on the width of his chest, and when he spoke, I looked up. “You
aren’t?”

  He shook his head. “You need sleep. You’re never going to get it being here by yourself.”

  “There’s someone watching the house.” I reminded him.

  “Does that make you feel safe?” he asked, his body still so incredibly close to mine.

  “No.” I admitted, feeling let down and weary. Being scared was exhausting.

  “Do I make you feel safe?” Spencer’s voice was low, calm, and steady.

  Everything about him made me feel safe. It was dangerous. Feeling safe with a man meant letting down my guard. I already decided I needed to keep my guard up.

  On all fronts.

  “Elle?” My name rumbled out of his chest like a volcano erupting with hot lava. He tipped up my chin. “Do I?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. I couldn’t lie. It was impossible. His eyes were like my kryptonite, like my own personal brand of truth serum.

  Slowly, he bent, closing the space between us and capturing my mouth in a sizzling kiss. The second we made contact, my bones turned to mush. His lips moved over mine with tenderness, like he was asking permission for the kiss he was already taking. His gentle strokes endeared me to him, making emotion swell up within me like some kind of electrical surge in an outlet. My chest felt tight as we continued to kiss. His lips were like pillows, like the perfect place to fall.

  I made a little sound in the back of my throat, and he stilled, not lifting his mouth from mine, not breaking our contact even a little. I felt rather than saw his hands flex at his sides like he was demonstrating some kind of epic control.

  “Is this okay?” he murmured against me. His lips caressed mine with every word he spoke.

  “Yes.” I arched just a little bit closer, my body giving him an even louder response.

  Spencer wound his arms around me, tugged me up against him. His body was hard, and he wrapped himself around me. He was like a fur coat on a snowy day. An umbrella in a rainstorm. He blocked out everything except the brush of his lips and the feel of his incredible body against mine.

  His tongue slid out and slipped over my lips, coaxing them open. I opened, inviting him in so my tongue could stroke against his. My knees started to tremble, desire pouring through my limbs like it never had before.