Page 20 of The Geography of Happiness

Terry’s gaze shifted to me, which meant I couldn’t flay Sonja where she sat. “I think so, yes.”

Sonja grinned and turned back to Terry. “You should swing by the woolshed or kennels if you’ve got nothing else to do. Check how Miller’s doing and watch the expert at work… and maybe Spencer as well.” She laughed riotously at her own joke, and I decided there was no pain too great for the woman.

Terry’s smile was almost shy. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. Thanks again, Spencer.”

I watched him go, then spun to glare at my receptionist. “What the hell was all that?”

She wagged her finger at me. “Come on. I saw your face when you walked him out. Youlikethis guy. You should be thanking me.”

“He’s straight.”I think.

“Pfft.” She began organising the papers on her desk into neat little piles, smiling like she found me hilarious.

“What does that mean? What did you see?” I circled her desk, forcing her to look at me. “And so what if I like him? I like lots of people.”

She looked up. “No. Youscrewlots of people, Spencer. You don’tlikelike lots of people. There’s a big difference.”

True. Still. I huffed. “Likelike? Really, Sonja? Are we twelve?”

She ignored the comment. “Honestly, Spence, your bed has clocked up more miles than the clinic truck. It’s about time you switched things up—invest in a quality mattress, improve the thread count of your sheets, try sleepovers that last more than a night. And oh, I know, how about going on a date with someone you actuallylikelike? Yeah, mostly that last one.”

I studied her for a moment, sensing there was more to her words than the obvious, and softened my tone. “I like my life, thank you very much. The men and women I take to my bed are nice people. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know they’re nice people.” Her gaze slid back to her computer screen. “You’re not a douche. And I’m not worried. I mean, that would be stupid, right? It would be like you were almost family or something?”

My irritation drained away. “Come here.” I pulled her up from the chair and into my arms for a hug. “I appreciate the concern, but I really am fine.” I released her and stepped back. “And I don’tlikelike Terry—and Jesus, can we please stop saying that?”

She folded her arms and stared at me a little sadly.

“What?” I asked, frustrated.

She sighed. “You’re forty-two, Spence. You’re a nice guy, if a little weird. You have a great job; you’re okay in bed, or so I’ve heard; your relationship catchment is wider than most, which you’d think would work in your favour; and your looks are... passable.” She bit back a smile. “And yet, nada. Zip. Zero. No boyfriend or girlfriend to speak of inyears.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’mokayin bed? Exactly who have you been talking to?”

She ignored me and barrelled on. “If you keep this up, you’ll end up old, bald, and farting in an empty bed with no one alongside who loves you enough not to care.”

I almost choked. “Wow. That’s... I don’t know what that is, but it’s a lot less than I was hoping for out of my retirement.”

Another raised brow. “It’s really not funny.”

She sounded hurt, and that was the last thing I wanted. I took both her hands and held them to my chest. “Sonja, sweetheart. I love that you care, but Iamhappy. Besides, there’s plenty of time left if I decide I really do want that someone who’ll put up with my farts when I’m old.”

Her mouth tipped up in a smile. “Idiot.”

I chuckled. “No argument there. So, you can stop worrying, and please, please, stop trying to set me up.”

She pursed her lips and looked at me sideways. “Yeah, nah. Nice speech, mister, but there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’m leaving you to your own devices. You’ll end up with some douchebag city slicker who doesn’t know his merino from his Poll Dorset, and you’ll have nothing to talk about. Here—” She slapped a large courier envelope against my chest. “—this arrived while you were busy with Mr Hot and Sexy.”

I groaned. “Please don’t call him that. He’s not like—” I scowled at her triumphant smile. “Damn, how do you do that?”

Sonja laughed. “You’re too easy. And one more thing. Derek rang and Ipromisedhim you’d call back. Don’t make a liar out of me with your brother.” She returned her attention to her computer screen, and just like that I was dismissed.

Figuring the smarter option was to do as I was told, I headed into my office, shut the door, and dropped the courier envelope on the desk. From the comfort of my chair, I stared at the university emblem on the front, a tide of emotions rallying in my chest. But first things first. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialled Derek.

He picked up on the second ring. “Jesus Christ, I should buy a damn lottery ticket. My oldest brother calling me back in under an hour. Has to be some kind of record.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I’m not that bad.” I so fucking was.And I didn’t even understand why.

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