Chapter 13
OUR PATTERN
“We should talk,” Spencer said the next day as they headed back toward the airport.
London let out a dry laugh. “And here it comes.”
“You can’t pretend last night didn’t happen.”
“You’ve been pretending all day. Why stop now?”
She wasn’t wrong. And it wasn’t fair.
After that kiss, he’d spent the entire night lying awake painfully hard with no relief in sight. And she hadn’t slept either. He’d heard every restless shift, every frustrated exhale, every kick of the sheets.
“We had work to do,” he said.
She laughed again, softer this time, but laced with disbelief. “Keep telling yourself that.”
He frowned. “You think it’s a game?”
“Hardly. I don’t play games, and I sure as hell don’t play those kinds of games. I’m insulted you think that of me.” If her hands gripped the steering wheel any harder, it might crack open.
This was spiraling fast. “I don’t,” he blurted. “But you laughed.”
“Because you’re making excuses,” she snapped. “And I didn’t expect that from you.”
He blew out a breath. “We’re not getting anywhere. Again.”
“Seems to be our pattern, doesn’t it?” she said. “Unless there’s alcohol involved. Or maybe it’s just something about after hours.”
“Probably a little of both.”
He saw her lift an eyebrow and then turn to glance at him before shifting her gaze back to the road. “Then talk while I drive. You seem to enjoy hearing your own voice.”
A snarl clawed up his throat that he barely choked back. She was the only person who could drag that reaction out of him.
“Doesn’t seem I’m the only one,” he said, his voice low. “I’m surprised you still have a voice after today.”
She shot him a glare while keeping the car steady. “I had questions. That’s my job. Sorry if yours is to babysit me.”
It felt as if that was more of what he’d done today. There were times she was working on the audit and walkthrough of the plant while he was dealing with other issues on different projects.
Did he look through policies and procedures that were in place and not being followed? Yep, he did. He made his notes and when London was done with her work, he’d look it over again to ensure it followed the letter of the law.
“I’ve needed time to think about last night.”
“And,” she said after five seconds. “What did you think?”
“I think I shouldn’t have let you bait me.”
“You think I baited you?” she asked, the sarcasm dripping like melted ice cream on a hundred degree day. “I asked a question. You didn’t answer me.”
“You asked if I wanted to kiss you. I replied it didn’t matter what I wanted. I should have answered yes or no.”
“Since you kissed me, the answer would have been yes.”
He sighed. “I wouldn’t have said that though.”
“So you like to lie?”
There was no winning here. He wasn’t sure why he was even trying.
“I don’t lie,” he said, his voice rising enough that it might have come off as if he snapped.
“No, you just evade. But your actions spoke for you,” she said cheerfully, as if she was thrilled she got the reaction out of him she was hoping for.
“Just like this morning when you stayed silent. So we got it out of the way. We said it’d be our secret and it will stay that way. It’s done and over with.”
“That’s it? You can just move on as if it didn’t happen?”
“It was a kiss, Spencer.” If she were looking at him instead of watching the road he’d be willing to bet she’d just rolled her eyes.
Guess it didn’t mean as much to her as it had him.
“Didn’t you kiss a lot of girls in school and move on from it?
Or even as an adult. Gone on one date, gave a kiss and never called her back? ”
“No. If I go on a date with someone and I’m not feeling it, the last thing I do is end it with a kiss.”
“Not even on the cheek?” she asked. He wasn’t sure why she was acting so surprised over that.
“Why lead someone on? If I have no intention of seeing them again, the most I’ll do is give a hug, only if they initiate it. But it’s obvious you’re a little freer with your lips than me.”
She burst out laughing as if he’d just cracked the best one-liner around. “That’s funny.”
“How is that?”
“I’ve not kissed a man in over a year. And sex...man, that doesn’t bear thinking of. It’d be too depressing to know how long it’s been.”
“So you were horny?” he asked before he could dial the words back from slipping.
The laughter this time filled the cabin of the vehicle, almost echoing off the windows. He was glad she found so much humor in this.
“Well, yeah. You took your shirt off in front of me. I’ve got to admit you’ve got a much nicer body on you than I thought.”
He replayed the conversation in his head, trying to pinpoint the exact second he’d lost control of it because it had slipped fast. Too fast.
He’d expected her to ride his ass. That was practically her default setting with him. She’d started that way, sure.
But now? Somehow this had turned into a damn comedy routine, and he was today’s headliner.
“You could have taken your shirt off and didn’t,” he said. “Then it would have been even.”
Her laughter cut off instantly. Her head whipped toward him, her mouth dropping open wide enough he could have tossed a baseball straight in.
“Why?” she demanded. “I got the impression I wasn’t your type. We kissed and you moved on. I got my answer.”
Ah. So that was it.
She thought he wasn’t interested.
Jesus.
He could let her keep believing that. It would make this so much easier for both of them. Clean lines. Boundaries. Professional distance. All the crap he’d been telling himself he wanted.
Or he could do the right thing, the honest thing, and explain.
Just like he’d been trying to do and was failing miserably.
“What answer was it you got?” he asked. “Be honest with me.”
He wanted her to say it. To admit that maybe she was hoping for more and could be hurt he didn’t feel the same way. Even if he didn’t feel what she was thinking.
“I just said it. I’m not your type.”
“I don’t have a type.”
Silence greeted him. Ten seconds of it. He’d wait until she spoke again before he did. She caved first. “Then you and I just don’t vibe.”
“Our lips seemed to think otherwise,” he mumbled.
She turned to look at him again, a slow smile filling her face, but her eyes full of doubt. “They did. But that doesn’t mean much.”
“It doesn’t. You want the full truth? No dancing around with fancy words?”
“I always want that.”
“Then you can do the same.”
“I have been. It rubs you the wrong way. Admit it,” she said.
Another sigh escaped. “Fine, it does.”
“That’s our problem,” she said. “And that is what you’re struggling with, right? Back to not being your type.”
“What I’m struggling with is that we work together. We’ve both got something to prove and we are in the infant stages of it. Making a move on anything other than work isn’t smart.”
“And you always do the smart things. Got it,” she said.
“Isn’t that what you want? You just said you haven’t had sex in so long you can’t remember.”
“It’s not that I can’t remember. It’s I choose not to,” she said primly.
Back to being snarky.
This was going nowhere. He wasn’t sure why he thought otherwise.
“Whatever you choose to do, I think it’d be smart right now to call it a lapse in judgment and move on. Don’t you agree?”
She turned to make eye contact with him while they were at a light. “Yeah, sure. Let’s agree.”
Only he was positive she didn’t.