#GodBlessAmerica

When Spence got home, he was far too keyed up to sleep. Thinking he’d work, he went to his office and logged on to his computer. But his concentration was even more shot tonight than it’d been all week.

He gave up and went to bed, telling himself he’d get back at it tomorrow.

But he didn’t. Not that day or the next three. That was because for three straight days he pulled Colbie from her apartment and knocked something off her list. He took her shopping in Union Square, for dim sum in Chinatown, and wine tasting in Napa Valley.

But not the nights. The nights he worked. Not full throttle, because his brain felt otherwise occupied with one sweet and sexy Colbie, but he did try. And as he stared at his screens, he realized that he was actually making a very real, very serious attempt at balancing Colbie and work.

As for whether he was successful at it, the jury was still out. But three days in, he sent what he had to both Caleb and Joe—who was consulting with them on the security end—hoping one of them might be able to put a finger on what he was missing. Then he dragged his exhausted ass into bed. It was three a.m. and he looked at his phone for the first time all day.

Three new marriage proposals. One request for a picture of his bare feet. That was a new one. He deleted everything, including a stack of e-mails from investors wanting him to come in on their ideas and bankroll them. He deleted three e-mails from Brandon.

Done, he tossed his phone aside. Then he stared at his window, where the building’s holiday lights were blinking, making his eyes rattle in his head. He texted Elle.

Spence tossed his phone aside. Grinch. He wasn’t the Grinch. And just because he chose not to use it didn’t mean that his heart was two sizes too small. He handled the holiday season just fine. He looked around his place. Not one holiday decoration, not so much as a single strand of tinsel.

Okay, so maybe the holidays tended to get to him. His mom was already back east and would be there for weeks. His only other blood relative preferred a damn alley to a perfectly nice, warm apartment. And yeah, he had his friends and he was grateful for them but . . . Well, he still didn’t feel into the spirit. Especially knowing that by Christmas Day, the one person he’d love to celebrate with would be gone.

Shaking his head, he rolled over and closed his eyes. He was deep into the best dream of his life, doing things to Colbie that were making her cry out for more, when he heard something.

“Spence . . .”

Yeah, that’s right, he thought, say my name, scream it—

“He’s smiling in his sleep,” came Joe’s voice. “Why is he smiling in his sleep?”

“Maybe he’s making a breakthrough,” Caleb said. “Don’t wake him up in case he’s solving all our prob lems.”

“I bet he’s dreaming about a woman,” Joe said. “Not work.”

Caleb snorted. “With this problem unsolved? Not likely.”

“He’s only human.”

“But that’s the thing—he’s not human,” Caleb said. “He’s a machine and he’s on the job. That’s all that matters to him. Right, Spence? Wake the fuck up and tell him you’re solving our problems in your sleep and not hooking up.”

“Why are you in my bedroom?” Spence asked without opening his eyes.

“Uh, because we have a meeting,” Caleb said, sounding ticked off.

“Had,” Joe said. “You missed it.”

Shit. Spence sat up. Daylight was streaming into his bedroom. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to tell us if you were bit by a vampire or a woman,” Joe said, eyeing Spence’s neck. “I vote vampire, because when you’re this deep into a project, you can’t remember your own damn name, much less enough niceties to get laid.”

Spence didn’t bother to cover the hickey on his neck, the one Colbie had given him yesterday after he’d taken her for the dim sum in Chinatown. He loved that hickey. Instead he gave them each a shove off his bed and slid out from beneath the covers to head into his bathroom.

“Jesus,” Caleb said, shielding his eyes. “Warn a guy, would you? Put some fucking clothes on.”

A pair of pants hit Spence in the back of his head.

Joe’s doing. Caleb couldn’t throw worth shit. Spence let the pants fall to the floor and headed straight into his shower.

“Think he got laid?” he heard Caleb ask.

“Hope he did,” Joe said. “He’s been pissy as hell.”

“I’m not pissy!” Spence yelled, turning on the water.

“Nope,” Caleb said. “He didn’t get laid.”

That morning Colbie sat in the coffee shop with her laptop. Her fingers were moving on the keyboard, always a good thing. She was writing something new and she had absolutely no idea if it was any good. But she figured she could fix crap on a page. What she couldn’t fix was a blank page.

The important thing was that she’d been in San Francisco for nine days now and her rough draft was coming along with shocking ease, thrilling her heart. She was several pages in when she recognized the battered athletic shoes that came into her vision. She let her gaze run up a set of long denim-covered legs, past a jacket and an untucked, unbuttoned shirt over a T-shirt that said Ride or Die, and felt all her good spots tingle.

“Hey,” Spence said. He had a black Lab at his side on a leash and was holding a coffee to-go cup and a brown bag that smelled amazingly delicious.

“Hey back.” Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d had only coffee and she’d missed breakfast hours ago now. “Something smells like heaven on earth.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, but I don’t think it’s you,” she said. “It’s whatever’s in your bag.”

Willa just happened to be walking past her table with a tall, good-looking guy. Keane, her boyfriend, Colbie assumed. They kissed and he got in line for them while Willa stopped to talk. “Don’t even bother to ask Spence to share,” she told Colbie. “He never shares his muffins. Ever.”

Spence gave the bag to Colbie and Willa sputtered. “Are you kidding me?”

Spence just smiled at her and handed her the black Lab’s leash. “I’ve got to get to work, but he’s done his business.”

Willa pointed at him. “I could tattle on you for sharing your muffins with her and not us—you know that, right? Your life as you know it would be over.”

“You really want to tell stories, Willa?” He gave her a long look that obviously meant something to Willa because she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“You fight dirty,” she muttered.

“Remember that,” he said, and when Willa moved off with the dog at her side, Spence reached for Colbie’s hand. “Break time.”

“But you just told Willa you had to get to work.”

“And I do. But this first. Get up, Colbie. We’re going to do this and it’s going to be good.”

Oh boy. Butterflies danced low in her belly as she shut her laptop, slipped it into her bag, and stood up. “Um, I feel like I should warn you, I haven’t done laundry yet, so I’m not in my best lingerie—” She broke off at the wide grin Spence flashed her. “God bless America,” she said on an expulsion of air. “You didn’t mean sex at all, did you.”

“Hey, I’m nothing if not flexible,” he said. “We can work it into the plans. If you’re a very good girl.” He leaned in and put his mouth to her ear. “But being bad works too.”

When he pulled back, she had to blink away the sensual fog he’d put her in, seemingly with no effort at all. “You’re talking like we’re going to . . .” She broke off and bit her lower lip. “Like it’s for sure going to happen.”

His low laugh was sexy as hell. “Oh, it’s going to happen.” Since she couldn’t feel her legs, she sat back down.

With a laugh, he took her heavy bag from her shoulder and slung it over one of his. Then he pulled her back up and tugged her along with him across the courtyard.

They went out the gate to the street and down half a block, where he shepherded her into that beautiful ’57 Chevy of his.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled out into the street.

He just smiled.

“Are you kidnapping me?” she asked.

“Eat your muffins.”

“You mean your muffins.” But she opened the bag and happily busied herself eating them.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into a huge parking complex for some biotech company. Spence flashed his ID at the guard gate.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Mission District.” He pulled to a far corner of a vast parking lot and got out of the truck. Before she could figure out what he meant to do, he came around, opened her door, unbuckled her, and lifted her, then dropped her behind the wheel.

“I don’t know how to drive,” she said.

“We’re going to change that. Number nine on your list, remember?”

She blinked, even as a surge of excitement barreled through her. She was going to learn how to drive! “I hope you have good insurance.”