Chapter Six
Spencer
The morning air was crisp, the kind that bit at your cheeks but made the coffee taste better. Spencer had bundled Jamie into the truck just after sunrise, figuring a hot breakfast might help shake off the heaviness from the night before. Jamie had said little, but he’d accepted the stuffed puppy, the sweater, and the binky like they were lifelines. Spencer didn’t push. He just drove.
But as they rounded the bend near the lake, Spencer spotted it—Tom’s cabin. The black Jeep parked out front as if it hadn’t left since last night. He saw Jamie’s posture shift, saw the way his eyes locked onto the cabin and then darted away. Dead quiet. Not a word.
Spencer gripped the wheel a little tighter. He wanted Jamie to say something. Wanted him to name it, to let it out. But Jamie just stared out the window like he was watching ghosts walk through the snow.
The breakfast spot was a cozy little log cabin-style diner tucked between pine trees, with a carved wooden bear out front and a chalkboard sign that read “Flapjack Special—Add baconfor $2!” Inside, it smelled like syrup and coffee and cinnamon. As soon as the server showed them to a booth, another server asked if they wanted coffee. They both nodded, and she poured into their red Christmas mugs.
They slid into the booth by the window. Jamie looked pale, like he hadn’t slept, like seeing that Jeep had knocked the wind out of him. Spencer didn’t mention it. Not yet.He sat across from Jamie, watching him stir his creamer into his mug like he was trying to disappear into the swirl. The boy hadn’t said much since they had passed Tom’s cabin. Spencer had seen the way Jamie’s eyes locked onto the black Jeep, then dropped to his lap like he’d been sucker-punched. He hadn’t said a word, and Spencer hadn’t pushed. But it was sitting between them like a third person at the table.
Instead, he stirred his coffee and asked, “Let’s exchange phone numbers, in case you get lost.”
They exchanged phones, added their phone numbers, and then each programmed the other’s number.
“Would you ever move out of California?” Spencer asked.
Jamie paused, as if the question had come from another planet. He stared at Spencer for a long second, then looked down at his menu. “I mean… I love California.” He paused. “It’s home. But I guess… if there was something for me somewhere else, I’d think about it.”
Spencer nodded, hiding the relief that bloomed in his chest. That was a good answer. Not too tied down. Not too closed off. He didn’t want Jamie to follow him out of desperation. He wanted him to choose it. To choose him.
Right now, Jamie still needed him more than he wanted him. Spencer could feel it in the way Jamie leaned into his warmth, the way he looked at him like he was the only safe thing left in the world. And Spencer didn’t mind being that. But he hoped eventually Jamie would want more than safety.
“My horse ranch is big,” Spencer said, keeping his tone easy. “Couple hundred acres. Horses, cattle, and a few goats that think they run the place. There’s always work—fencing, feeding, riding. It’s quiet. Peaceful.”
Jamie looked up. “Sounds amazing.”
Spencer smiled. “It is. You’d like riding the horses. They’re good listeners and never ask questions.”
Jamie gave a small laugh, the first real one of the morning. Spencer held onto that sound as if it were gold.
He didn’t know what would happen next. Whether Jamie would stay a few days or longer. Whether he’d ever talk about Tom or that damn Jeep. But for now, they had pancakes, coffee, and a booth that smelled like cinnamon.
Spencer cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to shift the mood. “Did you know I lived in Los Angeles for five years?”
Jamie looked up, surprised. “No. Did you leave your ranch?”
“Yeah,” Spencer said, smiling faintly. “I left at eighteen to join a band. Nathan—my friend and ex-drummer—is the one who invited me up here.”
Jamie momentarily shut and reopened his eyes. “You were in a band? What did you play?”
“Guitar,” Spencer said, grinning now. “And I was the lead singer.”
“Did you sing country?”
“Nope. Never. Had longer hair back then, dressed a lot differently. Pierced earrings, leather pants, the whole mess.”
Jamie’s eyebrows lifted, and for the first time that morning, a flicker of amusement crossed his face. “You? Leather pants?”
Spencer chuckled. “I’ll have to show you a picture sometime. I looked like I belonged on Sunset Boulevard, not on a horse.”
Jamie smiled, but it was soft, tentative. Spencer could still see the weight in his eyes. The Jeep had rattled him. Spencer wanted to reach across the table, take his hand, tell him he didn’thave to carry it alone. But he held back. Jamie needed space to want him—not just lean on him because he had nowhere else to go.
“I went as far as getting the band’s name tattooed on my back.”
Jamie gave a small laugh, and Spencer felt something loosen in his chest. He didn’t know what this was yet—what they were. But he knew he wanted to keep showing Jamie that not everyone leaves. Not everyone lies. Some people stay. Some people care.
