“Kayla, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

The older woman shifted her weight slightly in a classic feminine move, subtly thrusting out one hip and self-consciously checking the state of her hair with her fingertips, even as she looked him up and down. She needn’t have bothered. Not a single strand was out of place, and her makeup was impeccable, as were her designer clothes.

In contrast, Kayla looked adorably mussed in faded denim, her dark hair loose and somewhat untidy. It was the expression on her face, though, that really garnered his attention. Kayla looked as if she was hoping the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

Once again, she surprised him. Most women were thrilled to show him off, yet she seemed almost embarrassed by his presence.

Kayla’s shoulders dropped slightly as she exhaled in resignation. “Mom, Spencer Dumas. Spencer, my mother, Patricia Coxton-Jennings-O’Connell-Davidson.”

As the mother’s eyes lit up from within, warning bells tolled in the back of his brain. Spencer recognized that look. It was the look of a predator who had just spotted prey.

The corners of her mouth lifted as she took in his suit, pausing briefly on his Rolex.

Kayla’s odd behavior was starting to make sense. His defenses went up even as he offered his winning smile.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Davidson.”

“Won’t you come in, Mr. Dumas?” It was the mother who spoke, not Kayla.

Kayla looked even more miserable, if that were possible.

When she flicked him an apologetic look, he finally understood. He wasn’t the source of her embarrassment, her mother was. He had been around enough sharks to know when one sensed blood in the water, especially when the blood they sensed was his.

He had hoped to talk to Kayla alone, but that wasn’t possible if they stayed here. Making a snap decision, he offered another charming smile to the mother and said, “Actually, Kayla and I have plans.”

“You do?” The older woman shot Kayla a calculating look. “You didn’t tell me you had plans, dear.”

Kayla opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he added smoothly, “Nothing too grand. We were just going to discuss possible promotional material for my new resort. Kayla is an excellent agent.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Patricia said, but he could see the wheels turning. “Please, do come in while Kayla takes a moment to make herself presentable.”

He didn’t miss the way Kayla’s shoulders stiffened. He wasn’t typically one to play white knight, but he couldn’t allow that comment to go unanswered. Often the recipient of his father’s thinly veiled criticism, he knew how it felt.

“She’s perfect as she is,” Spencer said, meaning it.

Rather than be flattered by the compliment, however, Kayla seemed to shrink. Her mother, on the other hand, beamed like she had just won the lottery.

He ignored the warning bells, even louder now, and held out his hand to Kayla. “Shall we?”

She tried for a smile. “Sure.”

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Davidson.”

“Please! Mrs. Davidson is my mother-in-law. Call me Patricia.”

“Patricia,” he obliged with a slight inclination of his head.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, as well, Mr. Dumas. Enjoy your evening.”

He put his hand on the small of Kayla’s back and guided her toward his car. She said nothing until they had driven at least a mile away.

“Do you go looking for trouble, or does it just find you naturally?”

He chuckled at that and patted her hand. “A little of both, I think. Keeps life interesting. That’s your mother, huh? I admit, I wasn’t prepared for a meet-the-parent moment.” He glanced over to see her staring out the window, hoping for a smile. He didn’t get one.

“You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

“What have I done?”

She didn’t answer.

Spencer continued to drive away from Brandyville. A brightly lit sign appeared up ahead, and on a whim, he pulled into the lot. “Wait here,” he said.

Minutes later, he was putting a bag in the back seat and they were off again.

Kayla eyed him, the question evident in her eyes but unspoken.

He grinned and winked. “Just trust me, okay?”

Another sigh, but he thought he saw a glimmer of amusement when she nodded.

Spencer drove to a somewhat secluded area, then parked.

“Come on.” He grabbed the bag from the back seat and got out, walking into the darkness just beyond the car. It took a minute or two, but Kayla got out and followed. He patted the top of a picnic table. “Come on. I don’t bite.”

She snorted again, but eased up beside him. “Yes, you do.”

He laughed, images of their time together at Sate supporting her claim more than his.

He pulled two cartons out of the paper bag and held them out to her. “Cherry vanilla or chocolate marshmallow?”

The skies were clear and the moon full enough to see her eyes light up. She snatched the chocolate marshmallow, then rummaged around in the bag for the plastic spoons. “We’ll split half and half.”

They sat in silence, just the two of them at the scenic overlook, enjoying ice cream and the twinkling lights of the valley below. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Being there with her, enjoying such a simple pleasure, he felt relaxed and content for the first time in weeks.

She held the tub of chocolate marshmallow out to him and reached for the cherry vanilla. “Despite what you think,” she said softly, “I wouldn’t have said anything. Not to her, not to anyone.”

He believed her. Any lingering doubts he’d had concerning her motives had vanished back at her house.

“But now ... she’s not going to let this go, Spencer.”

“It’s not as bad as all that, is it?”

She snorted indelicately. “You know how your father tries to run your life?”

He nodded.

“Well, he’s got nothing on my mother. She took one look at you and saw her whole future.”

“That’s not unusual,” he told her truthfully. “Most people see opportunity when they look at me. Except you,” he mused.

Kayla didn’t say anything for a long time. “What is it you want from me, Spencer?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. What I do know is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and that I acted like a complete ass and owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“Apology accepted,” she said. “I probably would have thought the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sate?” she asked.

He nodded.

“No,” she said with sad smile. “No regrets. But it can’t be more, you know that, right?”

He frowned. No, he didn’t know that. Most, if not all, the men he knew had mistresses. It was not only acceptable, it was expected. But that was in his world, not Kayla’s.

“Because I’m engaged?”

Her lips quirked. “That is kind of a deal-breaker.”

“What if I wasn’t?”

“You are.”

“But, what if I wasn’t?”

She shook her head and took the now-empty container from his hands and put it in the bag with hers. “It still wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?”

Another exhale. “I’m not what you need.”

“What if you’re what I want?”

“You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?” She gave him a sad smile. “Just because I don’t regret our time together at Sate doesn’t mean my life is entirely without regrets. I have no desire to add to them. Let it go, Spencer.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. His first instinct was to disagree and convince her otherwise, yet he held back. He didn’t know anything about Kayla O’Connell’s life prior to their paths crossing a few weeks earlier.

The drive back to Brandyville was a silent one. Neither of them missed the slight movement of the drapes when he pulled into the driveway.

Kayla seemed as reluctant to leave as he was to let her go. How much of that was not wanting to leave him versus not wanting to face her mother? He couldn’t blame her. From the little bit Kayla had said and his own first impression, he didn’t envy the third-degree interrogation she would probably be subjected to.

“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.