Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Good. We’ll figure this out together, yeah?”
Jamie gave him a watery smile. “Yeah.”
Spencer reached out and gently squeezed his hand. “You’re not too much, Jamie. You never were. You just needed someone who wanted to listen.”
As Jamie inched closer, he wrapped his arms around Spencer. The warmth of his body was perfect as he rested his head.
“What color was my kiss, Jamie?” Spencer looked down at Jamie’s expression.
“Very green.” Jamie’s face burned with a fiery red glow.
Spencer took his hand. “Let’s get back to the cabin and help our friends some more.”
When they returned to the cabin, Nathan had ordered pizza and beer.
“Just in time,” Nathan said. “Sit down.”
“We thought you’d both turned into snowmen,” Alfie said.
After lunch, Spencer had slipped away from the hum of conversation and laughter, leaving Jamie with Alfie, who was still buzzing with energy and kindness. Spencer watched them for a moment before heading to the office area, where Nathan was nursing a beer.
Nathan looked up as Spencer walked in. “What’s going on between you and Jamie?” he asked, casual but curious.
Spencer leaned against the desk, arms crossed, trying to find the right words. His heart was still tangled up in everything Jamie had said earlier—about trying to be enough, about being left behind. Spencer hadn’t stopped thinking about it.
“Something real is going on,” he paused. “But I’m not sure if he wants his old daddy back. If Jamie were given a choice… would he go back?”
Nathan’s expression darkened. “Why would he? After he dumped him in the fucking snow?”
Spencer winced. That image haunted him too. Jamie, alone and freezing, waited for someone who never came. It made Spencer’s stomach twist every time he thought about it.
“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “But I think I know who his last daddy was.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
Spencer hesitated. Saying it out loud made it feel heavier. “Tom. He’s the same guy who was hitting on Alfie.”
Nathan sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. “Fuck no. That’s Tom Mason from Brentwood.”
“How did you find out his last name?”
Nathan took another sip of his beer, jaw tight. “Alfie told me. Said the guy was all charm and no soul. Gave him the creeps.”
Spencer’s chest tightened. He thought about Jamie again—how soft his voice had been when he talked about being left, how unsure he was about what he deserved. Spencer hated that someone like Tom had gotten close enough to hurt him. And now, knowing it was that Tom, the one who had tried to charm Alfie like it was a game, made Spencer’s blood run cold.
He looked back toward the party room, where Jamie was laughing at something Alfie said, and felt a fierce protectiveness rise in him. Jamie deserved better. He deserved safety, warmth, someone who wouldn’t disappear when things got hard.
Spencer wouldn’t be another person who left. Not now. Not ever.
“What else did you find out about him?”
Chapter Ten
Spencer
Spencer sat stiffly in the cabin’s office, the low hum of the boys decorating muffled behind the walls. His jaw was clenched so tight it ached, and his fingers curled around the edge of the desk like he needed something to ground him. Nathan sat across from him, calm as ever, sipping his beer like they weren’t talking about something that made Spencer’s blood boil.
“Tom,” Nathan said, voice steady, “served four years in the Marines. Two tours. Works for the local police department. And living in Brentwood, he’s got gobs of money.”
