Was it too much to ask that she return his affection? He was trying to make up for his mistake here. He didn’t even know why he still was. There were a slew of women who would jump to go out with him. He’d never had a problem obtaining a date.
So why didn’t he just cut his losses and move on? That was why he’d come home today. His dad would have the answers. Spence would walk away from this visit knowing whether he should transfer back to Seattle full-time or if he should throw Sage over his shoulder and take her to some deep, dark cave where he could ravish her repeatedly until she admitted she was attracted to him.
He liked option number two better. A big smile parted his lips as he pushed open the front door and ran straight into Eileen and Bethel. Damn!
With Bethel there, he could hardly talk to his father about ravishing her granddaughter. The woman was likely to hit him over the head with a frying pan, and she’d be smart to do just that.
“I thought I heard a car pull up,” Bethel said, and she wrapped Spence up in a hug.
“The weather is so frightful I don’t know how anyone is staying on the roads,” Eileen said as she stood in line for the next hug.
“The snow is fun to drive in,” Spence said. “You just have to have a nice big truck.” He kissed each woman on the cheek in turn.
“Well, I suppose for a younger crowd . . . We just got here a few minutes ago. Your father was kind enough to invite us over for supper,” Eileen told him.
Spence looked at Eileen’s flushed cheeks, the glow in her eyes, and the little squirm as she bounced on her feet, and the lights went on in his head.
“Well then, I shouldn’t interrupt,” he said, intending on backing away so his father could enjoy his meal and court Eileen at the same time.
“What a great surprise, son,” Martin boomed from the top of the staircase as he began his descent.
“Hello, Dad. I was coming to chat, but it can wait. I didn’t realize you had company,” Spence said, giving his dad a hug when he reached him.
“Nonsense. There’s plenty of food, and the ladies wouldn’t mind if my handsome son joined us,” Martin said as he threw an arm around Spence’s shoulders.
“I suppose . . .” Spence replied, but he didn’t have a lot of time and he really wanted to speak to his father alone.
“We’re going to go into the kitchen,” Bethel said, “and see if the cook would like any help.” She took Eileen’s arm and led her away.
Spence would have to send her some thank-you flowers.
“Let’s have a drink while we wait for supper,” Martin said, and led Spence into the sitting room. This room was his favorite in the house—the first room he’d entered that day Martin had brought him and his brothers to their new home.
He’d been served the best hot chocolate he’d ever had, and in the fanciest cup he’d ever seen. There was also a tray of tiny sandwiches—with the crusts cut off, which was great since he hated crusts. Martin had laughed and said he’d make sure to have lots of kid-appropriate snacks ready to go. He’d kept his promise, always having chocolate in his secret drawer and fresh-baked cookies daily. This had been a wonderful home to be raised in.
“What has you driving all the way out here in such weather? I can see something’s on your mind,” Martin said as they both sat down.
“Yes. I needed to talk to you about some personal stuff, and I guess I’d best be kind of quick because I don’t want it to be taken the wrong way by Bethel and Eileen.” He was hesitating, though he knew he should just spit it out.
“There’s nothing you couldn’t say in front of those women. They are loyal,” Martin said. But suddenly the man’s cheeks turned pink. “What have you heard about me?”
For the first time in his life, Spence saw his father squirm before him. “It’s about me, Dad,” he said quickly. He hardly wanted to force his dad to admit to something he might not be ready to talk about yet.
Martin recovered instantly. “Well, of course it is, Spence. What else could it be about?” He put two fingers of scotch in a glass and drank it down.