Chapter 5
5
Cortney
Spencer
Where are you?
Spencer
It’s getting late
Me
Wouldn’t you like to know?
Spencer
Yes, I would
Me
Go to bed, Spence
I don’t need you keeping tabs
I can take care of myself
I’m not even drunk
That last one might be a lie. I’m beginning to regret caving and exchanging numbers after dinner.
Spencer
You’re drunk?
Me
I said I’m *not* drunk. Can’t you read?
Spencer
I’m coming to find you
Me
Good luck with that wink emoji
Spencer
You’re a pain in my ass
Me
Good! Mind your business then
Spencer
Where are you??
Me
zipper mouth emoji
Pleased with myself for telling him off, I smile as I tuck my phone back into my clutch purse.
“Where are you from?”
The question is shouted above the throbbing bass in the resort club.
Humidity sticks my hair to the back of my neck. The floor is packed with people dancing beneath a powerful white strobe.
At the inquiry, I open my eyes, slowing my body from its solo dance. “I’m American.”
“You’re very pretty.” He grins, his mouth bracketed by a long dimple on either side. His teeth seem to glow in the strobe against his tawny skin.
Handsome.
I remember what Delaney said on the plane about all the fish. It’s only the first night here, and I’ve already been chatted up by three men. Nothing memorable, but the conversation was nice. My hometown is so small that I rarely get to enjoy the company of someone I didn’t grow up with.
The drinks I’ve kept flowing have helped me loosen up too.
“Thank you.” I give him a slow once-over as I bite my straw. He really is cute, but he’s young. I probably have… eightish years on this cutie pie and cougar I am not .
His hand settles on my hip, and with a gentle tug, he brings our bodies closer. The tips of our toes touch. He dips his mouth to my ear.
“Can I dance with you?” The heat of his breath tickles my neck.
His Italian accent washes over me, just loud enough to be heard above the music, and I close my eyes. I’m inclined to say no. I’m forty-one, for crying out loud.
I’m sensible and responsible. I run my own practice, and I’ve singlehandedly raised my son. I’m not impulsive or reckless. I don’t go out with the intention of dancing with strange men.
It might be the drinks, or it might be the fact I find myself single and trying to distract myself from the pain of that fallout, but I relax and swivel my hips a tiny bit.
What’s one harmless dance?
“I’m not much of a dancer.”
He bites his lip. “That’s not what it looked like to me.”
“Have you been watching me?”
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “You’re good.”
“Hmm.” I sip my margarita, licking salt from the rim. “I’m Cortney.”
“Davide.”
The music is too loud to continue conversing. I smile and nod, loosening up and moving a bit more. Davide spins me into his chest before twirling me back out. My margarita sloshes over the edge of my glass.
“Careful!” I laugh and lick the mess from my sticky fingers. Raising what’s left of the drink above my head, I close my eyes and dance.
The hand on my hip doesn’t move, but he also doesn’t let go. He’s not even inching toward the bare skin of my back. I get the impression he’s respecting my space. My guard lowers at the unexpected chivalry.
What a gentlemanly fish.
I should tell him that.
My lashes flutter against the harsh strobe. I raise a hand, blocking the light to find Davide’s eyes.
Instead, I discover a pair of furious blue ones behind his right shoulder.
“If you like how your hands work,” Spencer growls, “I suggest you remove them.”
Goose bumps ripple down my arms from his snarly tone alone, and a shiver sizzles down my spine. When is the last time a man’s voice made me feel like that?
I look down into my half-empty glass.
Perhaps I’ve had more to drink than I thought if I’m letting those feelings frolic freely this evening.
“Sorry.” Davide holds his hands up, palms out. His amused expression bounces between the two of us. “I did not know she was your girlfriend.”
Tipping the glass back, I drain my drink. “Wife, or whatever.”
Spencer wraps his thick fingers around my wrist, completely engulfing me in his hold. He leans down until his lips nearly touch my ear. “That’s right, wife .”
The words are for me, but he looks Davide directly in the eye as he says them.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the dance, cutie. I need another drink.”
I start walking away, forcing Spencer to follow.
Being certain to inject an extra sway in my ass for good measure.
We pull up at the bar, and I flag down my favorite bartender. He’s short with close-cropped dark hair and wears the friendliest smile I’ve ever seen in my life. Right now, he’s my favorite person in the world as he keeps me plied with a steady stream of drinks.
“Another margarita?” he asks, flicking an eyebrow up and down.
“Surprise me this time. Something sweet and fun.”
“Like you?”
I lean my elbows on the bar. “Are you calling me sweet and fun?”
The bartender’s eyes flick over my shoulder, most likely in an attempt to interpret Spencer’s fierce scowl.
“Don’t mind him.” I jab my elbow into Spencer’s ribs. “He’s like a bear. Scary on the outside, but inside, he’s stuffed with cotton and nice enough to cuddle. Right, honey?” I bat my eyelashes and find Spencer’s gaze over my shoulder.
His eyes lazily roam my face. “Right.”
“Put away your claws and stop mean-mugging everyone.”
“This is just my face,” he grumbles, jaw rippling as it clenches.
“Try this.” The bartender’s delivery of a neon green shot topped with whipped cream interrupts our banter. The color alone suggests it could have come from a science lab.
“What’s it called?” I tilt the freaky-looking concoction between my lips. A tropical cream flavor explodes on my tongue.
“It’s called a Scooby Snack. And this is for the road.” A frozen yellow drink appears next to my empty glass.
“I like you.” I wag a finger at my new best friend as I suck down the pineapple daiquiri.
“I’ll be here all night.” He winks.
Spencer sighs and rubs his brow, prompting a grin to my lips.
“You found me.”
“This resort only has so many places to get drunk, and I figured you didn’t leave the property.”
With my fresh drink in hand, I spin and survey the club. The floor undulates with a wave of bodies. The beat of something fresh and fast plucks me from my leisure position, urging me back to the dance floor.
“Since you’re ruining my fun, you want to dance?” I yell at Spencer.
“If it’s between me and another guy, you don’t even have to ask.”
“Relax. It was like dancing with my cousin.”
“You let your cousin put his hand on your ass like that?” Spencer turns to me when we find an open spot.
“I don’t actually have a cousin.” I twirl and face Spencer again. “And his hand was on my hip.”
“Kitten, he had a handful of cheek.”
“I think you need to get your eyes checked.”
His serious gaze sweeps me from my face to the tips of my painted toes. “I can see perfectly fine.”
“Then maybe it’s your jealousy that needs taming.”
“It’s impossible not to feel a little jealousy around you,” Spencer admits.
A pang travels through me, like a steady, dull dagger being dragged down my torso. Old feelings rush to the surface at his blurted confession.
“You don’t get to feel jealous.”
“But I do.”
Anger wells inside me at his insistence.
“No, you don’t have the right.” I step back, my body instinctively looking to flee as emotions rush to the surface. I stumble on unsteady feet in my rush to create space. “You were the first guy to ever break my heart”—I hiccup—“and I’m trying to heal from the last guy. You don’t get to tell me how I’m allowed to do that.”
Spencer runs a hand agitatedly through his hair. “I’m not telling you how to do anything. You’ve been out here all night living your life. Do you even know what time it is? Two. It’s two in the goddamn morning, and you’re getting wasted with strange men.”
“I’m single! I’m supposed to be doing this alone!” I shout. The tenuous hold on my control is slipping.
“Cort—”
I slam my icy drink, dropping the now empty cup onto the floor. A second later, I wrap my hands around Spencer’s neck, yanking him into my hold.
His eyes grow wide, shock coloring his features an unnatural shade. I’ve doused this normally calm and cool man with unexpected uncertainty.
Good.
Let’s see if he likes being as off kilter as he’s made me all. Freaking. Day. Ever since he crashed my party by showing up on my plane.
“Is this what you’re jealous of?”
My hips fit flush with his. The button on his jeans presses against my soft stomach.
“Or maybe this is what you’re jealous of?”
Reaching down to our sides, I locate his limp hand. Squeezing his fingers, I wrap it around my waist and plant it on the upper curve of my ass.
He slides his other hand around my side to mirror its twin. The matching squeezes surge through me, a warmth I haven’t felt in a ridiculously long time.
I cup the unscarred side of his neck, nervous to put pressure in a place that could hurt him, and rest my other hand on his hard chest. His heart pumps wildly beneath my palm, tapping out a forbidden beat.
Our foreheads touch, and our breaths mingle in the small space between our lips.
We rock together, finding the beat and moving like we’ve done this hundreds of times over the years.
This is only the second time I’ve dance wrapped in Spencer Stone’s arms. And I never danced with Sebastian.
Not once.
The realization hits me like a gut punch.
Tears brim along my lower lids, a cacophony of warning bells ringing in my head. I push off Spencer and dash for the exit.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
Spencer’s long legs catch up with me easily. His arm sweeps around my back, ushering me with his strength straight out the door and into the warm night.
I fight against the sniffle that would reveal my plight. A part of me is delusional enough to believe I can get back to our room without him noticing the wet tracks racing down my cheeks and neck.
“What’s wrong?”
I should have known Spencer would never miss something like that.
“Nothing,” I whisper. “I just want to go to bed.” The fight left the minute we stepped outside into the fresh, salty air. Now I’m just drunk and sad—a deadly combination.
Spencer nods as if that’s a good idea.
“Are you okay to walk back?”
With one hand and then the next, I peel off my treacherous heels, leaving me barefooted. “I’m fine, Spence.”
“Here.” He easily relieves me of my shoes. The heels dangle by their straps from his index and middle fingers. The other hand stays firmly attached to the small of my back. “I’ll walk you back.”
“That’s not—”
His voice is a deep rumble. “Just let me have this, Kitten.”
The fight leaks out of me with a weathered sigh. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“You have incredibly sharp claws.” He laughs lightly.
“I’m sorry.” I hiccup around a bubble of sadness in my throat. “I thought I was better. I mean, I’m okay, but it just hit me in there.”
“What hit you?”
We walk a few feet in silence. It’s beautiful out here. The stars illuminate the night sky with millions of tiny pinpricks of light.
“I was so stupid.”
“Not a unique human experience, I’m afraid.”
My lungs shudder with the shame I’ve held close like an old, comforting sweater. The path to our villa appears. We veer left, and the truth comes tumbling out.
“Maybe not. But being the only daughter in a family of sons, one of the oldest siblings at that, and watching my brothers each fall in love over the past few years surely has to be somewhat anomalous. I wanted that. To the point I deluded myself into thinking I had it.”
I swipe angrily at the tears on my cheeks.
“What makes you think you didn’t have it?” Spencer holds open the door to our villa for me to enter.
The answer remains locked tight. Keeping my face tucked from his inquisitive gaze, I slip inside. My heels clack against the cold, tiled floors where he drops them. On my quest to the bedroom, I toss my clutch purse on the table near the two high-backed accent chairs. It skids off the side and falls to the floor. The bed comes into view, covered in stupid red rose petals. I bypass the romantic gesture from the resort and work on opening the collapsible wall.
Spencer pads silently behind me, straightening the destruction left in my wake.
“Let me,” he rumbles.
I nod once and scamper back to the bed. I grab the duvet and whip it so hard the rose petals go flying. Good. At least the reminders of my failed love life are out of my way.
Dropping the heavy comforter, I crawl onto the mattress. Tucking my knees beneath me, I settle in the center and gaze ahead at the dark ocean and stars.
Spencer rubs a hand over his face as he drops himself into a lounge chair on the patio.
“Cortney.”
“Hmm?”
“What makes you think you didn’t have what your brothers have?”
I should have known he wouldn’t let that go.
I drag a pillow from the pile stacked at the head of the bed and wrap my arms around it for comfort.
“Sebastian didn’t love me. When I look back, it’s so obvious.” My lower lip quivers.
“He was engaged to you.”
“He never danced with me.”
“How long were you together?”
“About three years.”
“Three years, and he never danced with you?”
I shake my head. “Not even at Jack’s wedding.”
“Christ.”
“He didn’t like my family.”
Spencer drops his hands between his knees and stares.
“He’d fight with me about seeing them. We have family dinner every Sunday, and he stopped coming.”
Spencer’s jaw flexes.
“Or he’d make us leave early.”
He leans forward in his chair.
“Everyone noticed. They tried to give him a chance, but they were… chilly around him. I saw the looks. They even tried to stage an intervention before the wedding.” The cool AC sends chill bumps across my skin. I wrap my arms tighter around myself.
“What happened?”
“I told them I loved him and that they better accept our relationship before they lose me. They knew it was an empty threat.”
“Did you?” He runs his hand over his hair.
“Did I what?”
He swipes his hand over his mouth almost as if he’s steeling himself to ask the question.
“Did you love him?”
His question hits me with the force of a thousand pounds. A question I’ve asked myself a hundred times sounds a hell of a lot different coming from Spencer Stone.
My arms tighten around my torso.
“I thought I did.” The admission scrapes painfully up my throat. “I wanted to have what everyone else had so badly.”
The occasional rustle of leaves outside the patio severs the ongoing silence.
Maybe it’s the alcohol. Or perhaps it’s the fact I haven’t confided in anyone, but I find myself unable to stop talking.
“I never expected to be so affected. But each time one of my brothers introduced me to their new girlfriend, it was so clear from the start that they were meant to be together. So when Sebastian walked into my vet clinic with an injured stray cat he found in his engine compartment, you have to understand I thought it was kismet or whatever,” I grumble, waving my hand as if the words don’t matter. “We fell madly in love.”
“But?”
I blink heavily. “What?”
“I sense there’s more.”
“I ignored the red flags,” I deadpan.
A full-body twitch runs through Spencer. I watch in confused awe as he relaxes back in his chair.
“What kind of red flags?” The tone of his measured and restrained question sends my stomach swooping. What the hell is happening?
I lick my lips. “I already told you.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“He cheated on me,” I bite out.
“That’s not what I’m getting at, Kitten. He ever lay a hand on you? Scream at you? Talk to you in a way no man should ever talk to a woman, especially not one he’s sworn to love?”
“No, he just cheated on me,” I say sadly.
“That’s the truth?”
“You want to pinky swear on it?” I snark, holding up my littlest finger.
He nods crisply. “If anything comes to mind, you tell me. When we get back, I’ll take care of him.”
Fighting a yawn, I smile. “Sure, I’ll do that.”
“Did your brothers have a go at him?”
“Of course not.” I toss the pillow in my lap to the head of the bed and slowly lie down. “Nobody needs to go to jail for that asshole.”
“You’re telling me that sonofabitch is roaming freely around Fairview Valley, and nobody’s given him a lesson on how to treat his fiancée?”
I drag the thin sheet over my body. “His ex- fiancée. And no. We’re all adults. We fight with words, not with fists.”
Spencer stands, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I’ll fight however the hell I want.”
“Th-Thank you.” I yawn and close my eyes.
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
Sleep quickly envelops me. I force myself to answer. “I thought I was going to cry myself to sleep. Thanks to you, I’m not.”
“You’re welcome, Kitten.”
The sconce on the wall clicks out, plunging the room into darkness.
“If I have any say, you’ll never cry yourself to sleep again.”