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Tight Quarters (Out of Uniform 6)

Page 85

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Del sighed heavily as they caught sight of his truck. Spencer had only ridden in the souped-up four door Silverado a handful of times, but he recognized the distinctive silver color with black trim and red accents. It gave the country truck more of a punk edge, suiting the man himself.

“The relationship you were determined not to have.” Del shook his head.

“I didn’t count on falling in love with you,” he admitted.

“Dude.” Del whirled on him. “You don’t get to go trotting that word out now.”

“Sorry. Timing. But it’s the truth.”

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” All of a sudden, Del was Bacon again, the SEAL with a plan back on that island. “We’re going to have a nice meal with my mom—and no, you’re not going to wheedle out of it—and you’re going to talk about teens doing business and whatever else you’re working on these days. And we’re not going to mention that word again. Yet.”

Spencer’s pulse sped up at the world of potential in that yet. And knowing Del had kept up with him made him stand a little taller. “You heard my NPR piece?”

“I did. Now behave.” Del approached the passenger side of the truck. The window was down, and the woman Spencer had seen earlier with him sat there, country music coming out the speakers.

“Messing with my presets again, I see.” Del gave her an easy smile.

“You know I don’t like that garage-band stuff of yours.” She returned his smile, but her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Spencer.

“Mom, this is my friend, Spencer. He came down from LA to watch my ceremony. Would it be okay if he ate with us?”

She worried her lip with her teeth, and Spencer was afraid he’d already failed this test.

“I recognize you. From the back of the book Junior gave me for Christmas. You’re the writer.”

“I am. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell Del I was coming. I understand if you’d rather have him to yourself.”

“Of course you’re welcome.” She patted her short, grayish-blond hair. Other than the hair, she looked a lot like Del—long, lean build, intelligent blue eyes, and generous mouth. “I’ll just move to the back—”

“You will not.” Spencer swung himself into the backseat before she could protest further. “I’m fine back here.”

Del went around the driver’s side and got in, switching the radio off. “Now where do you want to eat, Mom?”

“It’s your day,” she demurred.

“It’s yours as much as mine. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Del gave her a smile so filled with love that Spencer’s chest hurt. He wanted to earn that look too.

“You’re sweet.” She patted Del’s hand.

“And we all know that there’s a grand total of three places you’ll let me take you to.”

“Now, Junior, I’m just not as adventurous as you. But your friend probably is...”

“I can eat anything,” Spencer said, even if that wasn’t quite true. But he was supposed to be charming her. “Pick your favorite.”

That turned out to be a fifties-style diner near the airport, which Del already had saved in his truck’s GPS.

“Mom lives for their cookies-and-cream milkshake.” Del gave her a fond look before putting the truck in Drive. Spencer really liked getting to see this side of Del, the loving son who liked indulging his mother.

On the drive there, Spencer was content to listen to the two of them banter, Del threatening to make her try some Mexican place again, her telling him not to plan on stealing her fries.

“He can have mine,” Spencer offered, this entire jaunt feeling rather surreal. But if it got him forgiveness faster, he was all for it.

“Their onion rings are amazing too.” Del turned into the crowded parking lot for the restaurant. To his mom, he said, “Spencer usually eats healthy. We’re probably corrupting him.”

“Hey, Spencer can eat a burger,” he protested. So far, he probably wasn’t making the best impression, which was somewhat disheartening. He’d never really had to impress parents before, never really cared about making them like him. But then nothing had ever mattered quite as much as Del, securing a future for them.

“Prove it.” Del’s eyes flashed at him as they exited the truck. Spencer was more than a little tempted to kiss him, get him as off balance as Spencer was. But his mother was right there, looking between them with undisguised speculation, so he restrained himself.

Instead, he went into reporter mode while they waited for their food, asking Del’s mother all about her work at an elementary school as an aide. Her love of her work shone through, as did Del’s obvious pride in her. He also followed Del’s orders to talk about the story about the teen business owners, which she asked good questions about, and he ended up telling them both about a piece he’d pitched to a national magazine about the rise of crowd-funded podcasts as a legitimate media source.



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