Chapter 26
SLAP LABELS ON IT
“Hi, Mom,” London said on Saturday morning. Midmorning, thankfully.
They’d landed at ten last night, it being close to eleven by the time they got to her apartment.
Spencer was annoyed she didn’t go home with him. She knew it. But she’d head over there soon.
“Are you recovered from your trip?”
“I am now that I spent the night in my bed.”
Not that she’d complain about sleeping next to Spencer for two nights.
It’d been years since she’d slept in the same bed with a man. She wasn’t one who liked to cuddle and hoped to hell Spencer didn’t pull her close and hold on all night.
He hadn’t. He tucked her under his arm while they watched a bit of TV. Maybe ten minutes of it. She shifted away and he never yanked her back.
Never made a comment or acted like he cared one way or another.
She should have felt relieved, but she found herself slightly annoyed over it.
Why did he frustrate her as much as make her want to get closer?
“That’s great,” her mother said. “Your father and I liked Spencer a lot.”
“Okayyyyyy,” she said, dragging the last part of the word out. She wasn’t sure where this was going.
Which was wrong because deep down she kind of knew.
Her mother was no dummy and had been sending them sly comments.
But Paris had promised she hadn’t said a word, nor had their mother asked her twin.
“You two seemed to get along well. Paris seems it too.”
“Considering we have to work together, that’s a good thing.”
Her mother let out a loud sigh. “Just admit it.”
“Admit what?” she asked, tucking her legs under her hips on the couch. Paris walked in from the kitchen and sat in the chair, then rolled her eyes.
Figures her sister would want a front row seat for this.
“Don’t play coy. You and Spencer are more than coworkers.”
“We like each other,” she said. “Friends. Isn’t that what you always told me to do with people I work with?”
“Do you sleep with people you work with?” her mother asked.
There was silence to that question. “What is it you want to know?”
“I just asked,” her mother said.
“So you want to know if Spencer and I have had sex?”
Her mother was laughing. Carolina Westerly would laugh even harder if she could see the flush on her oldest daughter’s face.
It was one thing she’d perfected. Not letting people see if she was embarrassed.
“Yep. But I also know my daughter and you wouldn’t do that unless you had feelings for someone.”
“Now you’re pushing it with the F word.”
Paris’s eyes popped out of her head thinking it was something else.
“Don’t be cute. Be honest with me.”
There didn’t seem to be a reason to lie at this point. “Yes. Just recently. He gets on my last nerve and then before I know it, everything is heightened for another reason.”
“I didn’t think you’d give in that easily. It must mean more than you want to let on.”
She sighed and put the phone on speaker. Might as well let her sister join this conversation now.
“Paris is in here too. She’ll give her input. Mom said I have feelings for Spencer or I wouldn’t have slept with him.”
“Oh, she’s feeling him,” Paris said. “She pushes his buttons, but they don’t pop easily.”
“Not around you,” she argued.
“Even better,” her mother said. “We know he has to annoy you. He’s too calm for your liking.”
She put her long legs out in front of her on the couch, crossed her ankles and got more comfortable for everyone to ride her ass.
She was used to it.
“He is. Or he skirts around with his fancy words rather than answering me directly.”
“I saw some of it,” her mother said. “Though it didn’t appear it bothered you that much. Maybe that is why I caught on so quickly. Your father didn’t believe me until I pointed that all out.”
“I’m assuming you’re going to tell him what you just found out?”
“I wouldn’t keep it a secret. Who else knows?”
“Just me,” Paris shouted. “I’m not sure how long she can keep it a secret with you knowing now.”
“Don’t tell Aunt Aileen,” she said. Her aunt would love it. Think it’s wonderful. Then would let everyone else know in her excitement.
She just wasn’t there yet.
She was lucky she was comfortable enough talking about it with her mother and sister right now.
“Can I tell your siblings?”
Her lips flapped when the air escaped. “Not yet. It’s not been that long. We are still navigating things. Maybe it will fizzle as fast as it started. We are bound to scrape the other raw at times.”
“You already do and got this far,” Paris said.
Her mother laughed. “Your sister has a point, but I understand what you’re saying. More like what you’re thinking. I’m sure you struggled with this. You won’t want anyone to think you can’t do your job or stay focused.”
“That’s it exactly.” She uncrossed her ankles, then switched feet. She didn’t know why this made her so anxious.
Or maybe she did.
She’d see Spencer soon and would have to admit this all to him. He might not like her family knowing.
Or worse yet. He might want to let Braylon know.
Just not there yet. Not one damn bit.
“I doubt anyone is going to think you can’t do your job because you’ve got a boyfriend.”
Paris slapped her hand in front of her mouth to stop the giggle from escaping. She hated the word boyfriend at her age.
She was thirty-one. Boyfriend sounded like a term she should have retired a decade ago.
Partner sounded better. Steadier and grown-up. But that word carried weight. Commitment. A level she wasn’t sure they’d reached yet… or that she was brave enough to claim. Or wanted to claim. Which made her sound like a bitch she’d been accused of being more than once in her life.
Did Spencer make her pulse kick into a sprint the second he walked into a room?
Did he steady her when she was about to snap? Which seemed like most times around him.
Did he light her nerves on fire with one look, one touch, one muttered comment only she was meant to hear?
Hell to the yes!
He did all of that. And more.
With other men, she’d chased the physical. It was simple. It was manageable. She could keep it contained.
With Spencer she was fighting something deeper. An internal tug-of-war she couldn’t quite control. Her emotions, her thoughts, her reactions, her feelings. They were all sharper, louder, and harder to ignore.
And that terrified her more than she wanted to admit.
“I’m not sure what we are or where we are. No reason to slap labels on it just yet.”
“That’s you putting it all in a box with a neat bow.”
Paris burst out laughing and she was almost bent over holding her side it was rolling out so quickly. “Mom. That’s crazy. London is the last person who puts anything away neatly.”
She frowned and wanted to fight back over those words. Only they were true.
“I lock them up tight,” she said.
“And it’s not neat,” Paris argued.
“Your sister is right,” her mother said. “That was my mistake.”
“You never admit you’re wrong, Mom,” she said.
“I do all the time. You two are just never around to hear it. So back to you, London. What’s the next step with Spencer?”
“And this is why I didn’t want anyone to know. I can’t plan that.”
“Mom,” Paris said. “You know better. You got the information you wanted, but if you push her too much she’s going to back away. I like her spending time with Spencer. It gives me the place to myself.”
It made her wonder if she was that hard to live with. She never thought so before.
“I’ll give you space now,” her mother said. “I just wanted to get the information verified.”
“You got what you came for. But keep it quiet, please.”
She hung up with her mother a minute later, then turned to her sister. “What?” Paris asked.
“Do you need space from me? Am I that difficult?”
“Oh, don’t go doubting yourself. You never do. We get along fine, but we’ve both had our own places for a while. This is just getting used to it again. It’s working out great.”
“Then why did you say that to Mom? She’ll think I’m the one causing problems.”
Paris laughed and stood up, walked by and shoved her with her hand. “Of course she will because you’re always the one who causes the problems. Aren’t you spending the day with Spencer? He didn’t look so happy that you came home with me last night.”
“Too bad. I’m not spending every night with him just because we had sex for the first time.”
“I doubt he thinks that.”
“I don’t know what he thinks. We didn’t talk much last night.”
Paris put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to hear details about your sex life.”
“I don’t plan on sharing them. We aren’t twenty anymore.”
She got up and walked toward her room to change and pack an overnight bag. Paris moved into the doorway. “You’re not coming home tonight?”
“Nope. You want me gone, so I will be. The place is yours. Maybe you can go out and get lucky too.”
Her twin snorted. “Not happening.”
Once her clothes were in her tote, she tossed her purse in there also, put sneakers on her feet, then grabbed her phone.
“You know where I am if you need me.”
“I won’t,” Paris said cheerfully.
She left and made her way to Spencer’s. She texted him first she was walking over.
If she gave him too much of a heads up, he’d want to come meet her.
She didn’t need a man to hold her hand as she crossed a street, to look out for strangers that might bump into her, or be her protector if she was in a crowd.
She’d been doing all those things on her own for years. He’d have to learn that quickly if they were going to continue.
“What bug crawled up your butt?” he asked her ten minutes later when he opened the door.
“Why do you say that?”
“There are enough wrinkles around your eyes from squinting at me I’d think you’d been doing it for years. Your lips are pursed as if you’re biting your tongue so hard I think blood might dribble out. What did I do?”
“Well, hello to you too,” she said, moving past him to put her bag down. Maybe this was a big mistake. “I can leave.”
“Nope. You’re not going anywhere. Or at least until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Why do you think something is wrong?”
He didn’t even give her the satisfaction of sighing. Didn’t run his hands through his hair. Not even a squint.
Just held her steady with his stare as if he was going to wait her out all day.
That should work her up, but it went right back to his presence calming her.
“Because you’re the one playing the lawyer word games, not me.” She moved to the couch and flopped. “My mother knows about us.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said. “I figured she would have asked before this morning. I’m assuming it happened this morning?”
“I got off the phone with her about twenty minutes ago. I told her no one else knows and not to tell anyone else in the family. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Nope. We are good keeping this quiet. Though I should tell you that Coy knows.”
“Since when?”
“I talked to him last week.”
“And you’re just telling me now?” she asked, sitting up straighter.
“You look ready to do battle. Sorry. You’ve got your sister to talk to. Coy is like my brother. It’s not like he’s going to tell anyone. Though he might have told Angel. Or not. She would have texted me and hasn’t.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Because Coy isn’t the type to say anything unless I tell him we actually are seeing each other.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I was struggling with your prickly personality, but for some reason I was going back for more. That I was trying to see how long I’d bleed with your pokes.”
She laughed. “Because you can’t help yourself.”
“Doesn’t seem it. Care to tell me what has you so worked up?”
She patted the couch. He moved over and sat. “What do we have?”
“You want to put a label on it? I didn’t expect that of you.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to. I’m positive you’re exclusive.”
“Goes without saying,” he said. “I won’t insult you and ask you that.”
Guess she pushed the wrong button there. “My mother called you my boyfriend?”
“Are we twelve?”
She pointed her finger at him. “There. Right there. I thought the same thing. Thank God.”
“I think we are more alike than either wants to admit.” He scooted closer to her, dropped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close.
“Admitting things makes it... scarier.”
“Yes,” he said, his lips going to the top of her head, his voice low as if he was whispering in her hair. As if she wasn’t supposed to hear, but she did. “And that’s why we are alike.”