words were barely out of her mouth when a late-model silver truck passed her. For a second she thought she saw Spencer at the wheel.
“Ooh,” Lila said. “That’s why he’s so mysterious. People around town don’t know anything about him. I can’t wait to see for myself—”
A block down, the truck pulled to the curb. A man climbed out and set a tan cowboy hat on his head.
“Hey,” Erin said, cutting Lila short. “I gotta go. I think his royal hotness just made an appearance.”
She disconnected, not trusting herself to walk and talk at the same time. She couldn’t see his face, but the tall, lean body was right. So was the short dark hair. And she vaguely recalled seeing a silver truck parked near the barn yesterday.
He glanced around before closing the car door. That is, he looked just about everywhere except in her direction. So, yep, that was Spencer, and she’d bet Lila’s designer stilettos that he’d spotted her, too. He could’ve kept going, but he hadn’t, so that was promising.
Glad for her old comfy Nikes, she sped up as she watched him round the hood and then drop an envelope in the mailbox near the diner. She half expected him to go inside, but he was already retracing his steps back to the driver’s side.
“Spencer, wait,” she yelled, switching to a jog.
He paused briefly, at least long enough for her to know he’d heard, and then he opened the door.
The hell with that.
She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled loud enough to wake the dead. And because he’d ignored her to begin with, she added, “Yo, Spencer.”
Everyone who was out and about on Main Street turned to look.
First, they glanced at her.
And then people stared at him.
Apparently he was more interesting. Probably due to his reputation for being a hermit. She’d bet half the town knew who she was from her last visit.
A small, wiry woman wearing an oversize World’s Best Grandma sweatshirt stopped pushing a stroller to give him a once-over. Two old-timers leaving the diner eyeballed him as they dug out their chewing tobacco.
Unsmiling, Spencer nodded at the men.
Erin couldn’t see what he’d done to get the World’s Best Grandma moving. But she seemed anxious to be on her way. So did a young blonde walking her little white poodle.
“I’m surprised to see you in town,” Erin said and leaned against his ridiculously clean truck. “Did you miss me?”
Spencer bit off a startled laugh and shook his head. “Haven’t you left yet?”
“Um...” She glanced down at her beat-up Nikes and well-worn jeans. “Nope. Still here,” she said and straightened when he pulled his door open wider. “Come into the diner with me. I’ll buy you coffee. Or breakfast. Have you eaten yet? Marge makes great cinnamon rolls. And chocolate chip pancakes.”
“No, thanks.” He took off his hat and slid in behind the wheel.
“Wait.” She shot forward, laying a hand on his arm, stopping him from pulling the handle. “Spencer, please,” she said, finding herself sandwiched between him and the door. Not one of her better ideas. He smelled too damn good. His slightly parted lips were too tempting. The awareness darkening his eyes made it difficult for her to breathe. She was standing too close, but she couldn’t make herself move away.
“Please what?” he asked softly, then waited for an answer she couldn’t seem to articulate. “I can’t give you what you want, Erin.”
She wanted him to touch her.
The thought came from nowhere and wrenched her out of fantasyland.
“Look,” she said, inching back, “I’m sorry I whistled and called attention to you. That wasn’t cool. But I’d really like to explain about the list you found yesterday.”
An air horn honked ungodly loud and close.
Grimacing, she covered her ear.
Spencer pulled her against him just as a truck sped by. The door closed behind her, biting into her back while her breasts pressed against his arm. It was unnecessary. The truck hadn’t passed close enough to hit her, but she wasn’t complaining.
When the teenage boys riding in the truck’s bed laughed and jeered, she realized then the driver had purposely swerved just to scare them. If Erin had been anywhere else, she would’ve flipped them off. Or maybe not, since her heart was pounding so hard the roar had reached her ears. Even her legs were shaky. Damn kids.
“Are you all right?” Spencer’s arm had tightened around her, and he was trying to look at her face.
“I don’t think they got your door.” She would’ve heard the metals scraping together. “Did they?” She turned to see for herself, but Spencer caught her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.
“Forget about the truck. I yanked the door pretty hard trying to get you out of the way.”
“I’m fine.” She lowered her gaze and focused on the muscle working in his jaw. “Stupid kids.” Her heart was still racing, and her knees had lost their starch, but that had more to do with the feel of his warm breath on her cheek.
“You’ll bruise.”
“Maybe it’ll match yesterday’s...” She shrugged, noticed her palm pressed to his chest and blinked. When had that happened?
Resisting the urge to snatch her hand back, she casually reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face.
Spencer glanced down Main Street and lowered his arm. “It’s clear. Come on, hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”
She didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. After a quick peek for herself, she hurried around and jumped into the passenger seat.
“Where are you headed?” he asked as he pulled out.
“I don’t know. Where are you going?”
His mouth lifted in a slight smile. “I can drop you off on the next block if you want.”
A sudden flash of memory had her peering into her bag. “Damn.” Both Twinkies were flat. No problem, she’d eat them, anyway. Of course the carton of dip had survived, because the bag of corn chips was now crumbs.
“Groceries?”
“Yep. Oh, well.” She offered him a candy bar. “It’s only smashed on the end.”
“No, thanks.”
She rooted around and found another. “How about this one? It doesn’t look too bad.”
He took his eyes off the road to frown at her just as they passed the inn where she was staying. Next was a gas station, and after that, nothing but open highway
