Chapter Four
Another of Monica’s grandmother’s sayings came to her mind when she and Spencer were seated close together inside the enclosed Ferris wheel. No matter who you date, you always leave room for Jesus between you, and you’ll never get in trouble.
Monica smiled at the memory, especially when Spencer drew her even closer to his side with an arm around her shoulders. Jesus certainly wouldn’t be able to wiggle in between them, and besides, it was too late to consider that when the night before there wasn’t even room for air between them.
When they reached the top of the first go-around, he pointed toward the horizon. “Look, Monica. We can see the whole big picture of the town and even the ocean from here.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, but those two words—big picture—stuck in her mind. Sure, she could see most of the town of Panama City Beach, and the horizon out there miles from the beach, but what about the big picture between her and Spencer?
Even after only one night, could she walk away from him without tears?
The sex had been incredible, but there was so much more about Spencer that she liked.
He was kind, thoughtful, and romantic. If she had figured all that out in one day and night, she knew there would be more if they had more time together.
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer asked.
“Us, and how much I’m enjoying this vacation,” Monica answered.
“Same here.” Spencer tipped her chin up with his fist and kissed her as the Ferris wheel started back to the top again.
Could that be one of her signs? Were they going to reach the top of the relationship—whatever it was—in only a few days? Would it be time to go home before the chemistry between them fizzled and died?
“Yes,” she said out loud.
“To what?” Spencer asked.
“To us,” she answered, determined to make the most of her time with him, and to not question one single moment of it.
“I’ll second that yes,” Spencer said.
The ride stopped, and they stepped out of the bubble. Monica almost let that be a sign of stepping back into the real world, but she pushed it aside. No more signs or omens. Living for the moment would be fun.
“Let’s go have lunch at Five Guys. I hear they make amazing burgers, and the fries are made from fresh potatoes, not frozen,” Spencer suggested. “After that, there’s a nearby ice cream shop where we can get dessert.”
“And then hit the grocery store for our picnic supplies, and to the hotel to take a nap?” Monica asked.
“Is that what we are calling it these days?” Spencer teased.
She giggled and tucked her hand into his. “That’s what my folks called it after Sunday dinner. I didn’t know for years and years that they didn’t ‘nap’ to …” fairly loud music.”
“We can always have music to dance to or nap by.” Spencer chuckled.
As they were walking toward the burger place, an elderly couple holding hands like Monica and Spencer stopped right in front of them. The gray-haired lady smiled and held up their clasped and veined hands.
“Honey, y’all keep doing this, and you will make it to your sixtieth anniversary like us.
We got married sixty years ago, and this was our honeymoon place.
Everything has changed, but the beach and ocean is the same.
You kids have fun. We’re going to ride the Ferris wheel and act like newlyweds,” she said.
“I’m going to steal a kiss.” The husband grinned.
“Or two.” She giggled.
“If that’s what it takes, we will sure do it,” Spencer replied with a big smile, and led Monica across the street to the burger place.
“Why did you say that?” Monica asked.
“Who’s to say whether this week will eventually be what begins a sixty-year journey?” Spencer answered.
“Miracles do happen,” Monica said, but she didn’t believe her words. Those kinds of things happened in romance books, and maybe to Fiona, not to her.
“Yes, they do, and us coming here at the same time is one of them.” He bypassed the tables outside and held the door for her. “Wow! Look at all those bags of potatoes.”
“Sixty years together to potatoes. Romance is fading fast,” she told him.
He stopped right inside the door and kissed her.
“That put some color back into it.” She smiled.
“I hope so. I don’t want it to fade away,” he said. “Look up there and figure out what you want on your burger.”
She followed his eyes toward a big menu. “I’ve never seen so many toppings.”
“Do you believe in signs?” he asked.
“As in that one up there”—she pointed—“or as in omens?”
“Either or both,” he answered.
“I believe in both,” she said. “I love road signs, and that one up there tells me that I might have found the perfect burger place. Also, if the brochure for this place hadn’t fallen out of a book or if I hadn’t dug it out of the trash, I wouldn’t be here having such an amazing time. So I consider that a sign.”
“If I hadn’t seen the advertisement on social media, I wouldn’t be here, either. Fate brought us together,” he said.
“I believe that was wind,” she told him.
“Fate controls the wind,” he argued.
“Are we having our first fight?”
“Maybe.” He grinned. “Want to skip burgers and go have make-up sex?”
“Let’s just argue some more while we eat,” she teased. “Then it’ll take longer to make up.”
He chuckled. “I like the way you think. Step up here and tell the lady what you want.”
While she was rattling off a whole string of toppings for her burger, a group of teenagers came inside and lined up behind a lady with short gray hair.
She told the woman at the register that there were ten children with her and that she would go to the end of the line and pay for all of them.
A few of the group rolled their eyes, but then they started scrolling through their phones again.
“I bet they just love being called children,” Monica whispered when she and Spencer headed toward the serve-yourself soda fountain to fill up their cups.
“I hated that even more than being called ‘kiddo’ when I was a teenager and thought I knew everything,” he agreed, and nodded toward a booth in the back corner.
“When I left home to go to college, I thought my folks were the dumbest people on earth. They certainly had no idea what was good for me. When I had been gone six months and had to do my own laundry, clean up after myself, and really be an adult …” He hesitated.
“You found out just how smart your folks were, didn’t you?”
“I did, but that did not mean I listened to their advice when I should have,” he said.
Then a voice came over the speaker. “Spencer, your order is a ready.”
Monica watched him walk away and wondered why she had gotten so lucky.
He was a gentleman and had even insisted on paying for everything.
She had gone on several dates where she insisted that she and her date split the ticket.
That way she didn’t feel obligated to go out with whoever she was sitting across the table from again.
Spencer brought the tray back and set it in the middle of the table. “Yours will have banana peppers and tomatoes. That’s what we do not have in common.”
“Well …” she said, drawing out the word, “yours have mushrooms and avocado, and that’s two more things we do not have in common. I don’t know why you eat those slimy green things.”
He grinned, slid in beside her, and kissed her on the cheek. “Well …” he mimicked her, “I don’t know why you would eat those watery red things.”
“Is this a battle so we can make up later?” she asked.
“Yep, but ice cream first to cool all our sexual tension down so we can build it back up later,” he answered.
“I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m going to be too full for ice cream after a meal this big.”
“I was looking forward to ice cream. Why do you always have to have your way?” His tone was on the verge of icy, but he had a twinkle in his eyes.
“Then we’ll buy some at the grocery store and save it for after …” She let the sentence hang.
“Can I eat it off your body?”
“Only if I can return the favor.” Monica hoped that he was serious. She’d never done anything like that before, and it sounded downright racy and erotic.
“Yes, ma’am, but you might want to reconsider. You found out last night that I have a very hairy chest.”
Monica loved running her fingers through the soft brown hair on Spencer’s chest and having it against her bare skin. But getting one of those same curly hairs in her mouth was a whole different story.
“Let’s have make-up sex and then eat ice cream from bowls,” she said with a slight shiver.
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned.
“Something else, and there’s no room for argument, even if it means good sex,” she announced. “I am paying for the groceries for our picnic tonight.”
Spencer shook his head and passed the bottle of ketchup to her. “No, ma’am, you will not. Even though I’m thirty-four years old, my mama would take a switch, or worse yet, a wooden spoon, to me if I let a lady pay for anything.”
Monica tried to think of a comeback, but she couldn’t. “Then let me repay you tomorrow night by cooking supper.”
“You cook?” he asked in a surprised tone.
“Of course I can cook. My mama and grandma saw to it that I could do that and clean house. My daddy and grandpa taught me how to change flat tires and the oil in my vehicle, to mow a lawn properly, and help build a deck on the house. I even have my own pink tool kit filled with everything I need to do minor repairs or put together a bookcase. Do you cook?”
“Honey, I can make the meanest sandwich in the world, and I know how to open a can of soup. I won’t starve in a pinch. However, my ex-wife, Zoe, did not cook, so we had a housekeeper and cook. I still employ both. What do you intend to make?”
“What’s your favorite dinner?” The idea that he brought up his ex didn’t sit well with Monica, especially since she liked him so much.
He drew his brows down. “Roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy, mac and cheese, corn on the cob, and hot rolls.”
Monica smiled. “Not a bit of carbs in that meal.”