Chapter Seventeen
Spencer
Spencer leaned against the counter at the western store, holding up a soft denim shirt next to a pair of dark jeans.
He could already picture Jamie in it—collar popped just a little, sleeves rolled up, that shy smile he gave when he felt seen.
He grabbed a matching set for himself, boots and all.
Nathan was doing the same across the aisle, picking out a flannel and vest combo for Alfie.
They’d agreed earlier this was the best way to show who was partnered at the mixer. All the single guys would wear name tags, but couples? They’d match. No confusion. No games. Just a silent way of saying he’s mine.
They slid into a booth with two cold beers and a bowl of peanuts between them. Nathan took a sip and then leaned back. “So… what are we doing about Tom showing up?”
Spencer stared at the bubbles rising in his glass. “I want to see how he operates. I think Jamie needs closure.”
Nathan frowned. “Closure’s one thing. But Tom’s dangerous. You really want him in the same room?”
Spencer nodded slowly. “I do. I want Jamie to see him for what he is. Not through fear. Not through memory. Just… face to face. I think it’ll help.”
Nathan sighed. “I still say we return his money and ban him.”
Spencer shook his head. “I’m picking up Jamie’s things. What’s left in the Jeep, and the rest in Brentwood. I want Tom to know Jamie’s not coming back. Not quietly. Not broken.”
Nathan rubbed his jaw, clearly uneasy. “You’re playing with fire, man.”
Spencer didn’t argue. He knew the risks. But he also knew Jamie. That boy had been carrying too much for too long. If Spencer could help him unload even a piece of it, he would.
Nathan’s phone buzzed. He glanced down, then looked up with a grin. “Alfie just texted. Says Jamie is wondering if you’re gonna ask him to go to Montana. Or at least for a week.”
Spencer smiled, heart tugging in that gentle way Jamie always managed to do. “I don’t want him for a week,” he said. “I want him to stay.”
Nathan raised his beer. “Then tell him.”
Spencer nodded, already thinking about how. Maybe not with words. Maybe with a look, a gesture, a quiet moment where Jamie could feel it—you belong with me.
“I think you should tell him before the mixer. Let him know you want him to visit your ranch, and if he enjoys living with you, he can stay. But you need to give him a way out.”
“I don’t want him to leave.”
“I know, but make it a safe risk. You could mention that he could return with us. You’d have a ticket for him.”
“Damn, I don’t want to make it that easy for him to leave me.”
“Make his options safe. I hate to inform you, but California guys aren’t jumping to move to Montana where there is work and no play. Are you even out in Montana?”
“No reason to be out when I don’t have anyone.”
“Cop out! You need to figure out how you both can live with who you are.”
“I know. Bringing him onto the ranch will upset my applecart. I’m willing to chance it.”
“Can Jamie get around alone there? Is it safe for a gay guy?”
“I don’t know if it is safe for any gay person.”
“Are you going to ask him to live a secret life?”
“I don’t know. You’re giving me a headache.”
“Because you know it and I know you belong here with us. You can buy a ranch here. You can sing again.”
“No, I’m not singing again.” He was being truthful to himself.
Spencer was halfway through his beer when he noticed Nathan go still. Not tense exactly, but alert. Nathan’s eyes flicked toward the entrance, then back to Spencer with a subtle tilt of his head—look.
Spencer turned, and his stomach dropped.
Billy.
Long blond hair, same smug posture, same leather jacket he used to wear on stage like it was armor. He stood at the edge of their booth, alone, but carrying the same air of entitlement. Like he still thought the world owed him something. Like he still thought Spencer might want him back.
Spencer’s grip tightened around his bottle.
Billy gave a crooked smile. “You moved back to California?”
Spencer didn’t blink. “None of your business.”
Billy shrugged, unfazed. “Just asking. Thought maybe we could talk. Negotiate getting back together.”
The old ache rose up—sharp, bitter, familiar.
The kind that came from betrayal you never saw coming.
Billy hadn’t just cheated. He’d done it with someone Spencer trusted.
Another band member. That damn Scot! Farlan MacCormick.
Someone who shared their songs, their stage, their damn hotel rooms. And then Billy let Farlan fuck him right in front of Spencer.
No apology. No explanation. Just silence.
Spencer’s voice came out flat. “No.”
Billy raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You look like you’ve been thinking about me.”
Spencer lied without hesitation. “I’m married.”
Billy’s eyes dropped to Spencer’s hand, bare where the ring should have been. His laughter turned to mocking. “Too cheap to exchange rings, or are you just fucking with me to make a point?”
Spencer’s blood boiled. The nerve. The absolute gall to show up at his table after all this time, and act like he still had a shot. Like Spencer hadn’t spent months picking up the broken pieces Billy left behind.
“Leave!” Spencer shouted.
Billy didn’t move. Just stood there as if he were planted, like he wanted to see how far he could push. That was Billy’s MO.
Spencer grabbed his wallet, threw cash on the table, and stood. He pointed a finger at Billy. “Stay the fuck away from me. You’re dead to me forever!”
Spencer didn’t wait for a response. He walked out of the bar, the cold air hitting him like a slap. Nathan followed close behind, silent but steady.
Outside, Spencer exhaled hard, trying to shake the weight of it. The memories. The humiliation. The way Billy had made him feel disposable.
But then he thought of Jamie. Of the way Jamie looked at him like he was safe. Like he mattered. Like he was worth loving.
Billy was in the past. Jamie was the future.
And Spencer wasn’t going back.
Spencer sat behind the wheel of his truck, fists clenched, jaw tight, heart pounding harder than it had in months.
The bar’s neon glow still flickered in the rearview mirror, but all he could see was Billy standing there like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t shattered Spencer’s trust and walked away from him without a word or a warning until that horrible day he let Farlan fuck him right in the same room they all had shared.
Nathan sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching him. “You okay?” he asked.
Spencer didn’t answer right away. He stared out the windshield, trying to breathe through the storm in his chest. “I was shocked to see him,” he said finally. “But it wasn’t just that. Seeing him brought everything back. All the hurt. All the lies. All the damn silence.”
Nathan shifted, uneasy. “I heard he broke up with Farlan. He’s been looking for a new daddy.”
Spencer turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “You knew?”
Nathan hesitated. “I didn’t want to bring him up. So I didn’t tell you.”
Spencer’s anger flared. “Do you still talk to him?”
Nathan looked down, then nodded. “He joined the new band. We’re still looking for a lead guitarist and singer.”
Spencer’s breath caught. His anger turned sharp, red-hot. “You added Billy to the new band?” His voice rose, raw and furious. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know?”
Nathan held up his hands. “It wasn’t like that.”
“No,” Spencer snapped. “You knew what he did to me. You knew how he dumped me on our biggest night. And you still let him in?”
He wasn’t just angry. He was hurt. Deeply. The type of pain that made his chest ache and his throat tighten. The day had already been heavy, and now it felt unbearable.
Nathan looked away, guilt written all over his face. “He’s coming to the party too.”
Spencer slammed his palm against the steering wheel, the sound echoing through the cab. “When were you planning to tell me?”
Nathan didn’t answer.
“Tell me, what was your plan when you invited me to this Find a Daddy Christmas mixer?”
Spencer didn’t speak again. He started the truck; the engine rumbling beneath them and drove in silence. The snow outside blurred the edges of the road, but Spencer didn’t give a shit about anything. His thoughts were loud enough to drown out everything else.
They pulled up to the bowling alley, and Jamie and Alfie climbed in. Jamie gave him a soft smile, but Spencer couldn’t return it. Not yet.
He dropped Nathan and Alfie off at their cabin. No one spoke. Not a word. Jamie moved to the passenger’s seat.
Spencer watched Jamie out of the corner of his eye, the only sweet comfort in the day’s chaos.
But even that felt fragile now. Like everything could crack if he wasn’t careful.
He leaned over and kissed the top of Jamie’s head.
Spencer floored the truck, the engine screaming as they sped toward the isolated cabin.