Page 43 of Two of a Kind
“What are you going to tell her?”
“I’ll come up with something.” Her lips quirked. “She’s going to be crushed, you know. She probably already started a registry.”
He chuckled softly. “Kayla ...”
Kayla opened the door before he could continue. “Chelsea’s what you need, Spencer, not me. And I hope you’ll be happy together, I really do. Goodbye, Spencer.”
And then she was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kayla didn’t give into the urge to look back at Spencer as she walked away. Nor did she give in to the even stronger urge to get back into his car and ask him to drive them as fast and far away as possible.
It wasn’t just because she would rather face a firing squad at that moment than her mother. Something about Spencer Dumas just did it for her. Her body didn’t care that he was engaged. And sadly, neither did her heart. She could easily see herself falling for him, if she allowed it.
Which she wouldn’t.
Because he was engaged.
“But, what if I wasn’t?”
She refused to even consider those words. They were a one-way ticket to heartbreak and disappointment. Men like Spencer Dumas—rich, powerful men who wore thousand-dollar suits and drove hundred-thousand-dollar cars—didn’t willingly expose their necks to the sharp blade of bad publicity, no matter how good the sex was.
Maybe it’s about something more than sex for him, some part of her whispered.It is for you. You’ve never moped around for weeks over anyone else.
It was a nice thought, but Kayla was nothing if not a realist. Beyond providing fodder for some juicy gossip in a very small town, no one cared who she slept with. But Spencer? He had an image to maintain, a corporate empire to run, and stockholders to please. Even if he did walk away from his betrothed, he wouldn’t want someone like her. What could she give him, other than great sex? A past riddled with things she wasn’t proud of? A knowledge of where to find the best deals on airfare? A woman who would stick out like a sore thumb in his ritzy, glamorous, high-priced lifestyle?
Surely, he knew this. And yet, she could feel his eyes on her, staring at her from beside his car. At least he hadn’t followed her to the door. For that, she was grateful.
Kayla took a deep breath, steeled herself, and went inside.
Unsurprisingly, Patricia was lying in wait. Equally unsurprising, Patricia wasted no time in speaking her mind.
“You didn’t tell me you were seeing Spencer Dumas.”
“I’m not,” Kayla said wearily.
