Spencer didn’t mean to pick a fight with Trina, but her reaction mounted on top of what Mia was pulling and sent him past the point of giving a fuck. This was what he got for dating a younger woman.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, he felt guilty. He didn’t care for her taking her frustrations out on him, or care for what she was doing. He understood why she was taking the path of least resistance when it came to her colleagues, though.

His phone chirped with a new text. Ambivalence murmured inside when he saw Trina’s name.

I’m sorry, the first message read.

Another popped in. I’d come in there and say it to your face, but people are back from lunch.

I was a brat. Forgive me?

Annoyed to contrite in under ten minutes. He typed back a quick note. This time ;) Besides, I was a jerk too.

Buy me dinner tonight, and I’ll forgive you? she replied. You can pick how you’d like to make things right.

He couldn’t turn down a request like that. I’ll start thinking about it now.

Dinner that night was less eating and more discovering the counters in her apartment were the perfect height to fuck her on. He hated going home at the end of the night, but like at the end of the weekend at the beach house, the agreed it was the best way for them to get some sleep and keep the rumors at bay.

He had to work in the office the next three days. He didn’t like leaving her to fend for herself, but it wasn’t as though he’d have a choice even if he were there.

They met up each night, at his place or hers, for some combination of takeout and screwing. It wasn’t any easier to walk away from her at the end of the night on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Thursday night, they sat on his couch, in his condo, Trina curled up in his lap. They were still dressed, which was a first for the week. Gaming or movies had been proposed, but he didn’t want to let her go long enough to find the remotes, and she wasn’t complaining.

“We have all weekend,” she said.

He winced. “About that...”

“You’re hooking up with your other girlfriend?” Doubt crept into her teasing.

She couldn’t know how much the playful jab would hurt. He hadn’t told her about what was going on with his ex. He’d also neglected to tell her he wasn’t going to be in town.

“I’m flying to Florida tomorrow, to work with one of the parks down there. I won’t be back until Monday night.” It might take some getting used to, sharing his plans in advance.

“Oh. That’s cool.” Her disappointment was audible. “Florida is pretty.”

He kissed along the nape of her neck. “You could come with me. Call in sick to work. Tell them you have a family emergency.”

“I want to.” Her smile was back. He loved that look. “But I don’t think I should. I’m working on this big install for this big client”—she squirmed in his lap—“and I want to make a good impression.”

“You’ve already made an incredible impression.” He pressed his lips to her skin, then glided along her jaw, to her mouth. “Maybe next time.” He liked the sound of next time. Was that where they were headed? Toward some sort of commitment?

He wasn’t fooling himself. He was most of the way there. They weren’t calling it dating, but he didn’t know what else it would be. Something else occurred to him. “It’s funny. I’m not afraid of you using that offer against me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You wouldn’t.” And he liked that certainty.

She laughed. “Let me rephrase my question. Why would anyone do that?”

A sudden hesitation nudged him. They hadn’t talked about anything beyond the superficial yet, as though delving into their real lives would shatter the mood. “You don’t want to know. It’s boring, personal-life stuff.”

*

TRINA WASN’T SURE WHAT to make of Spencer’s statement, besides that it hurt. Did she misinterpret that they were getting closer? “You trust me not to blackmail you over a trip to Florida, for some unknown reason, but not enough to tell me why?”

“You don’t want to talk about what’s happening at work. I figure you also don’t want to hear about what’s going on with my ex-wife.”

A stone sank in her gut. Was she really that abrasive? Or just that bad at reading what they had? “Of course I want to hear it. If it’s causing you stress, I’m here to listen. And I thought we both apologized and moved past the work thing.”

He seemed to relax under her. Hands on her hips, he slid her so she sat on the couch and he was looking at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“So... I was married.”

She let a smile slip out. “I know. And if I didn’t, the whole ex-wife comment kind of gave you away.”

“Right.” He let out a shaky breath. “When we met, we were all stars in our eyes and in love. Fortunately, though I wasn’t thinking clearly, Mischa made me have a prenup agreement drawn up.”

That didn’t sound right. “Same Mischa I know?”

“He was stuck in the middle of his own bad contract. Anyway, turned out his was right, and my heart was wrong. She cheated on me a few years later, and that was the end of that.”

“Oh.” How was Trina supposed to react to his statement? I’m glad didn’t seem appropriate, but in a way it was true. “I’m... sorry?” She cringed.

“Don’t be.” He kissed her on the tip of the nose. “It should be in the past, but a few weeks ago she came back with a claim that I cheated on her first, and she’s got a very specific date range around a trip I took to Salt Lake. If it were true, she’d be entitled to half of everything, including Ride & Surf. My ex-assistant has all the receipts and also claims to be the then-object of my affection.”

“That sucks. But you told her she was a liar with her pants on fire, and to fuck off. Right?”

Spencer laughed. “Something like that. You didn’t ask me if it was true.”

“It’s not. I trust you.” Maybe that was dumb, but for all the things she had wrong, she couldn’t doubt what she saw in Spencer. “Besides, you stayed with Tristan on that trip to Salt Lake, so if you brought someone with you, you left her alone in your room an awful lot.”

Shit. Trina clamped her jaw shut. She shouldn’t have said so much. Would he think she was a stalker if he found out how she knew that?

He studied her with a frown. “Tristan didn’t give me that much detail. I emailed and asked him. He remembers we went to dinner and not much else.”

“June seventh. You flew in at four, met him at five, and went to dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory.” She couldn’t believe she was admitting to having this knowledge, but if they were going to be open with each other, and it could help him, she needed to. “You were there for a couple of hours, then you went to the bar. It’s not there anymore, but it was on the corner of State and 72nd, across the street from a little diner that’s been there for ages.

“He was the designated driver. You got wasted. He took you back to his place and let you crash in the guest room, so he could take you back to your rental in the morning.”

Spencer stared at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “I vaguely remember things like that have happened. How do you know that, down to the date?”

“Have I mentioned yet, that I’ve had a huge crush on you, pretty much forever?” God, this was awkward. Not as much as it would be if they weren’t sleeping together, but still bad. “I was thrilled when you and Tristan started talking again, because”—she took a deep breath—“I used to stalk you when you were in town, and the only reason my friends put up with it was because they liked him.”

“Wow. Didn’t see that coming.”

Was he mad?

“Do you have this kind of details about all my trips to Salt Lake?” Spencer asked.

“No. I can tell you random stuff, but this trip was different.”

“How?”

“It was the day I graduated high school. A few of us were supposed to spend the day shopping and celebrating, and I may have swiped Tristan’s schedule, to find out where you would be at dinner time. I was so surprised you two never saw us. We spent the night watching and giggling. But I mean—proof, right? You can tell the courts you weren’t sleeping with someone else on that trip.”

“Jesus fuck.” Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose.

That wasn’t what she expected. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t tell anyone that. I’m certainly not saying it under oath.”

“Why not?”

He scrubbed his face. “My proof that I didn’t cheat on my wife is a girl thirteen years younger than me, who was stalking me when she was barely legal, who—by the way—I’m sleeping with now. Not that she’s biased in any way. And while we’re at it, please don’t mention this to her boss, because she’s also employed by of one of my most lucrative vendors.

“But she’s not making any of this up. It’s all true. I swear it, your honor.”

“I’m telling the truth.” She understood where he was coming from, but she didn’t like the mocking in his voice.

“Do you think that matters?”

Trina fumbled for a response. “They’re listening to a woman who happens to have your travel information, because it was her job to make the arrangements. Why wouldn’t they listen to me?”

“They’re not listening to me, and I was a faithful doting husband for years.”

“Maybe your story isn’t ludicrous enough.” Irritation was creeping into her tone.

“I’m not trying to hurt you or be cruel.”

She scowled and scooted away when he reached for you. “So sorry for taking that the wrong way. I wonder why I might possible be defensive about someone telling me, your story is good, but it’s just not believable because you’re pretty and friendly.”

“That’s not—” He clenched his jaw. “That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it.”

She did, but his delivery hurt. “It’s fine. It’s also late. I need to get home.” She stood. “Have a good trip.” It felt wrong to walk out the door without stealing a goodbye kiss or waiting for his response, but she didn’t need to say anything else—expose any more of herself—that she’d regret later.