They had no idea. “We’ll see what happens,” Spencer said.
“Right.” Dean uncoiled some lights. “Or she might be over ancient history and want to try someone new. Like me.”
“You can try.” Spencer forced the words out, knowing his irritation was obvious but unable to do a damn thing about it.
But Spencer was the one staying tonight. He was the one who knew how to make her come apart at the seams and shatter in his arms. He knew how beautiful she looked when she climaxed. He turned back to the tree. But all he could think about was Tatum, the feel of her mouth on him...
“People are still talking about Wednesday night,” Jared said. “Everyone’s nervy.”
Spencer hadn’t given much thought to work. Clint Taggart was bad news. It was about time the department had given him more than a warning or improvement plan. Spencer believed in backing his squad, but he didn’t hold with putting the team in jeopardy. Which was exactly what Clint had done.
“You think Clint’s going to follow through on his threat?” Dean asked.
Spencer shook his head. “If he wants to bring trouble to my door, I’ll be ready and waiting.”
Jared snorted. “Dumbass got himself in the situation, period. He doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.
”
Which was true. Clint talked too much and too loudly. Which was a concern when you worked with undercover cops. As far as the department knew, no real damage had been done. Clint had drunk too much at a bar and mentioned a few names. Lucky for them, the bartender had been a source more than once and called Spencer. But, because Spencer had picked up Clint, Clint blamed Spencer for what happened next: Clint losing his job. And, before he left, Clint had threatened to beat the living daylights out of Spencer the next time their paths crossed.
“I’m not losing sleep over it,” Spencer said.
“He was pissed. And pissed people do stupid things. Like sharing confidential information to get even.” Jared looked at him.
Spencer paused, frowning. “I don’t like Clint but I don’t think he’d sell anyone on the team out.”
Dean shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.”
They didn’t talk much after that. Spencer couldn’t shake the unease in the pit of his stomach. He took risks every day. He didn’t need some asshole with a grudge getting him killed out of misplaced anger.
“Looks good to me,” Jared said, standing back.
“She can’t say there’s a light shortage,” Lucy said, as she walked outside to join them. “I’ve got to change and head to the fire station.”
Spencer kept his impatience in check, trying not to think about Tatum waiting for him inside. His cousins helped him collect his tools and clean up the yard before they climbed into Jared’s big black truck.
“You know she’s over you, right?” Dean asked, grinning at him.
Spencer flipped him off, making both his cousins laugh as they drove away. He drew in a deep breath of cold air and made his way up the walkway. He stomped the snow off his boots on her porch and slipped inside. “Tatum?” Spencer called out. Unless she was waiting for him in the shower again. That would warm things up.
“Kitchen,” she answered.
He headed into the kitchen. She had a large mixing bowl on the counter and a cookbook propped up. “What are you making?” he asked.
She turned, a smudge of flour on her nose. “Pizzelle.”
“Oh, pizzelle,” he said, then arched both brows. “What are pizzelle?”
She crossed the kitchen and threw her arms around his neck. “Yummy wafer cookies I have snowflake molds for. I thought I could make some for tomorrow night’s fund-raiser?” She touched his nose. “Your nose is red.” She was so pretty his heart thumped.
“It’s cold out there,” he said, pressing his hands to her cheeks.
She jumped, covering his hands with hers. “Your hands are freezing! Where are your gloves?”
“I took them off to mess with you.” He winked.
“I like it when you mess with me,” she answered.