Chapter Fifteen

Spencer was feeling a bit weird. Like he’d done something wrong when he knew he hadn’t. They’d had a deal: it was only supposed to be a one-time fling. Testing the waters to make sure everything was still in working order. Proving to her that she could do way better than that Dan the Dick guy. Mission accomplished. So why did he feel like he was the big dick?

Maybe because he actually liked the crazy surfboard killer. Even if she had killed his board. But if she hadn’t, then they’d never have met, and they’d never have slept together. And he’d never know what she tasted like, only to now find that he was craving that taste again and was disappointed that wasn’t to be.

Of course he could reach out to her. But what would that accomplish? He didn’t trust women after his girlfriend had betrayed him by letting his dad pay her off. No thanks. He wasn’t interested in dealing with that type of nonsense. It was fine to get laid when the need presented itself and not get all tied up in knots with the complications that regularly came along with dating your average woman.

It had been a long day at work. When it grew cold this time of year, it was brutal trying to keep your hands warm enough to grip the steering wheel of the bike. Twice he’d had to swerve to avoid being hit by some jackass driver who wasn’t paying attention. He was late with one delivery and got chewed out even though it wasn’t his fault—his boss gave it to him and told him it had to be there in ten minutes, but the destination was a thirty-minute ride away.

Fuck it. He stood and went to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

He plunked down on his leather sofa and started to think. He went to set his beer down, and it made him ponder the idea she’d mentioned—about turning the dead board into something new. Repurposing it: end tables would look pretty sweet in here. He stood up, went out to the workshop, and removed the shroud that had been covering Petie since the accident. He found it didn’t still feel quite so raw. Even though his baby was no longer, he only felt good memories for it. Maybe playing around with the raw edges, figuring out how to finish them off, putting the two halves onto a pedestal could work.

If nothing else, it would give him something to distract himself from the overarching feeling that, at the very least, he had been a real asshole to leave before saying goodbye.

Good thing he told her he wasn’t one to stick around. He figured that might be all the harder for her, considering what happened the last time she counted on a man to not leave. At least she knew from the get-go it wasn’t going to be that sort of relationship.

Now if he could only convince himself.

~*~

There weren’t many surfers in the water by early December. Even with his top-of-the-line wet suit, it was cold out there. When that water splashed on your face, it was a bracing smack of reality. But for Spencer, he was most at peace when he was on the water, alone with his thoughts. It was his place to meditate, and he hated to give it up for a few degrees of added comfort. Well, maybe more than a few.

He’d given himself enough time for about thirty minutes before the sun would set on him, and sure enough that final ride in took him to shore right as the sun went down.

He dragged his board out of the water and grabbed his stuff that he’d stashed farther up the beach, away from the tide. He draped an oversized fleece blanket around his shoulders and tucked his board under his armpit as he headed toward the parking lot. As he approached the dunes, he saw someone walking with a little dog. Passing her, he nodded and realized it was Georgie. “So, you’re a dog person after all?”

Georgie looked up and gave a cursory nod. “Oh, hey Spencer. Fancy meeting you here.” She continued walking, not even stopping to chat.

Spencer turned to follow her toward the beach, where he’d come from. “Uh, is there something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No. Why would there be?”

“Well, for starters, because you’re ignoring me as if I’m a complete stranger.”

She continued walking, letting the dog lead the way. “Well, you sort of are.”

He tossed his head back, incredulous. “Not exactly,” he said, walking quickly to catch up with her. He dropped his board so he could pick up the pace. Damn, she was going at a fast clip. “I mean, after all, I did have the pleasure of having my cock buried deep inside of you not too long ago. And we did exchange plenty of body fluids.”

Georgie turned and tugged on the dog’s leash so it would stop. “Yeah, so nothing new for you, am I right? I’m taking a page from your book. The last thing I want to be is some pity fuck of yours, so I’ve figured out how to be as uncaring about having sex with strangers as you have.”

“Pity fuck? Is that what you think that was? A pity fuck?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea what it was. But if I had to bet money, I’d say that was exactly your intention.”

He was freezing his ass off out here and needed to get inside his car with the heat blasting. But he wasn’t going to leave this hanging.

“Look, you knew that I don’t do relationships. I told you that. It’s not in my repertoire. But that doesn’t at all diminish what we shared.”

He looked up to see tears glistening in her eyes. Oh, no. He knew what that meant. Shit.

“Unilaterally making it a one-night stand cheapens it. Because I wasn’t worthy of you considering anything more than that.” And then bam! Cue the failing floodgates. Tears started streaming down her face. And her dog—was it her dog? Or was she merely dog sitting for someone? He didn’t even know enough about her to know if that was the case—started jumping up, his paws on her chest. Which made him mad that the dog was entitled to stick his paws on her tits yet he couldn’t. But he couldn’t because that was his decision, so he needed to stop thinking that way. The dog started licking at her face, but watching the swipes of that dog tongue catching her tears as they cascaded down her cheeks, he couldn’t help but think he should be the one dabbing at them, not the damned dog.

“Look, Georgie,” he said, extending his arms toward her. “I’d hug you, but I’m sopping wet and cold as hell. What say we at least sit in my car and discuss this? I can put on something warmer. And besides, you don’t even have a jacket on and you’re going to catch your death out here.”

But Georgie shook her head. “There’s nothing to say.” She tugged gently on the dog’s leash. “Come on, Bruiser. We need to get you back and get you fed.”

And with that, she turned and walked away from Spencer, leaving him chilled to the bone for more reason than one.