Page 26 of Next to You

Chapter 9

Lucy

Knowing that Spencer Cassidy wanted to kiss me had done something to me. My self-confidence was soaring, my crush on him had exploded, and it was all I could do to keep myself from jumping across this counter and throwing myself in his lap to give us both what we wanted.

He had come in from gathering wood. His windblown hair was tousled, looking like I had just run my hands through it instead of the wind, and his broad chest heaved with exertion. The light flush in his cheeks was adorable, making me want to kiss him all over. From the kitchen window, I watched him go back and forth from the shed to the porch while making the soup. I could see how his biceps bulged even through his jacket, and the tense line of his jaw, as he worked. Both would fuel my fantasies, probably for the rest of my life.

There was so much wood out there that he must have been avoiding coming back into the cabin.

But what did I know? I relied on central heating for warmth. Maybe we needed all that wood.

What I knew for sure now was that Spencer Cassidy wanted me, and it excited me in a way that had me floating on air.

When he first pulled away from me, I was hurt, but it only took a minute for me to understand him. I always knew Spencer was one of the good guys. Having a dad like his made it a given. Since my dad worked with his father, we were invited to all of Cassidy’s Automotive employee barbecues, so I got to see what his family was like. Aside from my grandpa, I had never known how it felt to have respectful, gentlemanly, protective attention directed solely at me.

I felt safe with Spencer.

It was a revelation.

He looked tortured when he pulled away from me. Entirely and utterlytortured, there was no denying it—I saw what I saw. He was all Mr. Darcy with the hand flex about me, and I was into it. The mini-crush I had kept in the back of my mind for all these years suddenly morphed into something I wanted to fully explore immediately.

It felt like he wanted to protect me as much as he wanted to ravage me, and it was a turn-on like no other. But I could wait for the ravaging if it meant I could keep feeling this way.

After years of dating dick-pic-sending, non-committal, emotionally stunted boy-men, I was finally in the presence of a real man. A grown-up, adult man. Agoodman. And bonus: he couldn’t get away.

Bring it on.

I ladled soup into bowls, buttered some bread, and then joined him at the table without any idea what on earth we could talk about when everything he said only served to put me more under his sexy spell.

He had scrambled my brain, rattled all my senses, and made me feel things that no man ever had, and I wanted him so bad right now.

But I also wanted to respect his wishes. I loved how he wanted to wait almost as much as I hated it. Ugh, damn him forbeing honorable and kind, and sexy and hot, and everything I ever wanted.

“This is confusing me,” I blurted. I was frozen in thought, with my spoon halfway to my mouth. “I don’t know what to talk about.”

“I don’t either. Except this soup is great.” He set his spoon down and reached for the bread.

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to tell my grandma it was a success.”

A grin tipped one side of his mouth. “You’re too cute. I can’t look at you.”

“Thanks?”

His eyes darted past me to the window. “Shit,” he muttered. “It’s white out there. Whiteout. Look.”

I turned. “Oh snap.” Static filled the air, and I jumped in my seat. “What the hell was that noise? And what the hell is up with all this damn freaking snow?”

“The radio.” He stood, tearing across the room and up the stairs to the loft.

“Great. More good news will be forthcoming, I suppose,” I muttered to myself. “Saved by the static.” I mean, it was snowing again. What else did we need to know?

The mood that had risen between us was dead for now, which was probably for the best as I was beginning to have my doubts that we could keep off of each other if we had to stay here much longer.

I finished my soup, trying not to think about what would happen once we got home. Would this end? Would we go back to our “Hey, how are you?” interactions and forget all the magic that has happened since we got here? The thought of not seeing him after this hurt.

Being here felt like the beginning of something, and I was afraid to think of what it was. I’d gone from vowing to be done with dating and men to wanting it all back again with Spencer.

I wanted a chance to be happy, damn it. But now I found myself wanting it with him.

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