She laughed then. “Dean might be trying to get me into bed but it’s never going to happen. Lucy would kill me.”
He almost rear-ended the car in front of them. “Lucy?”
“You don’t sleep with your best friend’s brother,” Tatum said, watching him curiously.
He stared at her.
She was still giggling. “What?”
“Nothing,” he growled. She was teasing him. He was acting like a child and he knew it. He had no right to be jealous—she’d laid out their arrangement clearly. No strings. No attachments. Just mind-blowing sex with an expiration date.
“What happened to Betty?” she asked.
“Betty?” he repeated. “Betty Brewer went off to college, married some guy and is living in Austin. She visits now and then with her kids.”
“That’s nice.” This time there was an odd sound to her voice—high and tight.
Kids. God, he hadn’t even thought about that. Did she and Brent have kids? Surely that would have come up by now. “Big commitment, having kids. Don’t think I’ll be ready for a while.”
She glanced at him. “No?”
He shook his head.
“But you do want kids?” she asked.
He nodded. “Well, yeah, eventually.”
“Be sure,” she said, that tone edging her voice again.
“I’m sure.”
“Just make sure you don’t change your mind. Especially after you get married,” she said.
He swallowed. No kids, then. Because Brent had changed his mind. He should be sorry for her but all he felt was relief. “You still want kids?” Tatum had always wanted a big family, one full of love and laughter—to make up for her childhood.
“Yes. I do.” The longing in her voice made his heart hurt. She looked out the window, tapping on the glass. “This house is gorgeous. Oh, it’s...magical.”
Spencer made a point of keeping it light from then on. He wanted her to laugh, to smile and relax. That meant keeping talk of Brent and her mother to a minimum. When the drive was through and they were pulling up in front of the house, he could hardly wait to get her inside.
Tatum turned to face him. “I had fun tonight. Thanks.”
He smiled. “Good.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow? At the women’s auxiliary fund-raiser?” she asked, her hand falling to the door handle.
He tried not to let his disappointment show as he nodded. He’d envisioned a long night in her bed. How the hell was he supposed to sleep under the same roof?
She opened the door and slid from the truck. “Then I’ll say good-night now.” She slammed the door and headed inside before he’d turned the truck off.
Spencer sat there, staring at the front door. Maybe he should take a drive, clear his head, get a beer—anything to help him forget he was going to bed—alone.
* * *
TATUM STARED OUT the front window. She saw him sitting in his truck, looking at the house. Beyond the steady stream of headlights and the happy sparkle of her Christmas lights, he was there. Waiting.
She was testing him and she knew it. She’d sent him away and he was listening to her. Even if she hadn’t really wanted to stay away, not really. What was she doing?
She crept closer to the window, watching him run a hand over his face, shake his head and back the truck out of the driveway. He headed down the road, his brake lights glowing red before he turned right.