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Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

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“This ability you have to talk women onto their backs.”

He frowns and picks my hand up to kiss my fingertips. “I just want coffee, Charlotte. Why would you think I have a hidden ability?”

I watch him kiss my fingertips. “Well, it’s not really hidden. It’s out there for the world to see,” I whisper.

He rolls his eyes and drags his hands through his hair. “Stay off of Google, Charlotte.” He sighs. “Nothing good will ever come from that.”

“We’re just not suited, Spencer.” I sigh.

“Suited or not, you’re attracted to me, I can tell.”

“I am. I won’t deny that,” I admit.

He smiles softly and cups my face in his hands.

One night… just one night with him.

My heart begins to race as I imagine what it would be like to be in his bed.

He dusts his thumb over my bottom lip and watches my reaction. “I want to talk some more. I haven’t had enough time with you yet.”

“Talk about what?” I breathe, unable to concentrate when he touches my lip like that.

“Invite me in for coffee so we’re out of the sight of him.” He gestures to Wyatt in the parked car who is watching with beady eyes. Spencer drops my hands and holds his up in the air. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

I roll my lips to try and stop myself from smiling.

“And after coffee, if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine.” He raises his brows. “I’ll never write your name in my diary again.” He crosses his finger over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

I giggle sharply, but just as quickly I remember the facts of who he really is and fall serious again. “I don’t have what you’re after, Mr Spencer.”

His eyes hold mine and he dusts the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “Maybe I’m sick of the afters, Charlotte. Maybe I want a before.”

I feel my stomach somersault with nerves, the energy between us palpable.

“It’s late,” Wyatt snaps behind us, breaking our moment and forcing us both to jump.

Spencer frowns at Wyatt who has snuck up the porch steps. “Hello,” Spencer says, holding his hand out for Wyatt. I can tell he’s annoyed that Wyatt has interrupted us. “Spencer Jones.”

Wyatt glares at him and shakes his hand. “Wyatt. I’m Charlotte’s guard.”

“She’s ho

me safe, Wyatt,” Spencer says flatly, glaring at Wyatt. “Why don’t you run along and give us some privacy?”

My eyes widen.

“I don’t think so,” Wyatt replies calmly. “I think it’s time you ran along.”

Spencer smirks as if amused and puts his two hands into his pockets. “Actually, I’m going in to have a coffee with my lovely date.” His eyes come back to mine and he takes my hand in his, picking it up to kiss it. “Aren’t I, Charlotte?”

“Yes,” I whisper, wide-eyed. Oh my God, what the hell is he doing?

Wyatt’s jaw clenches, and Spencer smiles and winks cheekily, clearly loving every moment of this.

“Wyatt, you… you are finished for the evening,” I stammer. “Spencer and I are just going to have coffee, that’s all.” I open my door in a fluster. “You should go home now.”

“I might see you in the morning when I leave, hey, Wyatt?” Spencer says chirpily. “Will you be on in the morning?” he asks, acting innocent.



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