For one terrible second, he only stared at her.
Then his face cracked into a wide smile that made her heart leap.
“I’d love to,” he said.
Meryl smiled back before she could stop herself, and the relief that ran through her was immediate.
Only it was not just relief.
That was the problem.
Relief was part of it, yes. Relief that she had not made a fool of herself. Relief that he had not politely refused.
But underneath that was the simpler truth she had nearly talked herself out of.
She did not want him to go.
“Right,” she said, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “In that case, I should probably get started on a not-very-impressive dinner.”
Spencer’s eyes were still on her. “I’m sure we can manage something a little impressive.”
We again.
And this time, instead of catching at the word, Meryl found she liked the sound of it far too much.
But she liked Spencer Thornberg much more.
Chapter Twelve – Spencer
She doesn’t want us to leave,Spencer’s bear said, stating the obvious.
No, she doesn’t,Spencer replied, his heart thumping erratically as he followed Meryl into the kitchen.
She asked us to stay for dinner,his bear hummed with satisfaction.
In the kitchen, the camping stove sat on the island, the only reliable cooking surface until they dealt with the ancient range or got the electrics checked.
He had to admire Meryl for coping in the house without electricity. He’d done what he could, bringing up fresh ice packs for the cooler to help keep her food from spoiling.
“It’s not much to work with,” Meryl said, opening the cooler and peering inside with that little furrow between her brows he had come to recognize. “I’ve got eggs, some cheese, a red pepper that’s still good...” She shifted things around, frowning. “And pasta. I could do a sort of improvised pasta thing?”
“Sounds perfect,” Spencer said, meaning it.
His bear gave him a look.
Help her. Make yourself useful.
“What can I do?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves.
Meryl glanced around the kitchen. “Could you clear some space over there? Maybe wipe down that bit of counter?”
Spencer found a clean cloth and started moving tools and supplies carefully to one side. While he worked, he watched her from the corner of his eye. She moved with brisk efficiency,gathering ingredients, finding a pot for the water, and checking the propane on the camping stove.
She’s adapted well,his bear said with pride.
She has,Spencer agreed.She’s taken so much in her stride.
“I hope you don’t mind eating on your lap,” she said, as if it mattered. He’d eat standing on his head as long as it was with her.
