He swore under his breath and tried to untangle their limbs, but everything was twisted among pieces of railing and a bush and clothing, and once Alex realized exactly what had happened, she began to laugh. Hard.
She threw back her head and roared until tears streamed down her face.
Spencer gripped her face, running his hands down her body, testing to make sure her limbs were all in working order while she lost her mind. “Are you okay?” He gripped her face, and she blinked at a bleeding cut on one of his sharp cheekbones. “Alex? Answer me, dammit. Are you crying or laughing or what is this noise you’re making?”
Which made her laugh harder, until her stomach cramped and she couldn’t breathe. He must have figured out she wasn’t dying because he rolled off her, muttering curses and blaming faulty American hardware.
She lifted a hand to his face and swiped at the cut, sobering. “Posh, you’re bloody bleeding.”
He frowned and looked at her finger, which was now stained with his blood. “I’m what? Oh, hell.” He waved a hand, dismissing his injury. “You okay?”
She nodded, then winced as her back protested. “I’m okay. A little sore maybe from hitting the railing.”
He stood up, his nice clothes covered in leaves. “Let’s get you up.”
“What the hell is going on?”
Alex looked up to see Cal stomping toward them with Brent on his heels. Following them were Jenna, Delilah, and Ivy. Violet was on Asher’s shoulders, while Davis rolled along beside them. And they were all looking at Alex and Spencer with a mix of reactions, ranging from pissed off, to amused, to confused.
Cal was glaring. “What the hell did you two do to my porch?”
Alex groaned and placed her hands over her eyes, waiting for her sluggish brain to catch up to the situation. It’s not that she necessarily needed to keep Spencer a secret, but she certainly didn’t want to confess to everyone here that they’d been making out like teenagers and broken the railing. That would lead to more questions and some raised eyebrows and a few dirty jokes from Brent.
She wasn’t in the mood and could really use some Advil.
Spencer scratched the back of his head, glancing at the remains of the porch railing, then down at the debris on the ground. “We . . . I . . . I, uh—”
Alex rolled onto her hands and knees and rose to her feet with Spencer’s help. “Spencer was standing at the railing and I came out to heckle him about how much he sucks at washers. I think we were both leaning on it too hard and it . . . uh . . . broke.”
“What do you mean, you were leaning on it too hard? I lean on the damn thing every day.”
“I guess it just got weak over time?” Alex offered.
Brent stood with his arms across his chest, head cocked. “I think we need a reenactment. Why don’t you show us exactly what happened?”
Alex glared at him. “I’m not reenacting it, you dumbass.”
“Aunt Alex swore!” Violet crooned.
Alex pointed to Cal. “He swore first!”
“But your word was badder,” Violet said.
“Worse,” Asher corrected.
Alex heaved a sigh.
Cal’s eyes were narrowed as he gazed between Alex and Spencer. “That’s the story you’re going with?”
“There is no other story,” Alex said.
“She’s right,” Spencer added. “That’s, uh, the story, all right. That’s all there is to it.”
Alex turned to him with big eyes so he’d stop talking. He got the message and clamped his lips shut.
Penny and Nick rounded the corner of the house next, and she stopped suddenly when she saw the mess, so that Nick ran into her back. “What happened?”
“The railing broke and two grown-ups are swearing,” Violet said.
Penny nodded, as if that was all the explanation she needed. Her gaze went to Spencer. “Oh, you’re bleeding, Spence.”
He lifted a hand to his face. “Oh, it’s just a scratch.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “You need to weed, Cal. Just saying. If I get poison ivy on my ass, I’m putting laxatives in your coffee.”
“What are laxatives?” Violet asked.
Penny was walking toward Spencer. “You sure it’s just a scratch? Maybe you need stitches.”
“I don’t need stitches,” he growled, maybe a little harsher than necessary, because Penny looked stunned.
“Okay, no need to snap at me.”
The man wanted to get out of the situation. That was clear. Alex knew that feeling. “Okay, so is everyone done gawking now?”
Spencer cleared his throat. “Cal, I’ll pay to replace what I broke.”
Cal’s eyes flashed a little. “I can afford to fix my own porch.”
Jenna laid a hand on his arm and whispered something in his ear. A muscle in Cal’s jaw jumped, but then he nodded shortly. “Okay, well, uh, if you’re offering, then I guess that’d be nice.” His face was twisted up painfully.
Spencer stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’d love to take care of it for you. It was my fault, after all.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but Alex didn’t speak up for fear of blowing their already flimsy cover.
Cal and Brent began to pick up the pieces of the shattered railing out of the garden. Nick and Spencer tried to help, but the Paytons waved them off.
It took a half hour for the yard to be cleaned up and the broken section of the porch to be roped off. Alex stood in the bathroom, checking out the scrapes on her arms. When Spencer left, she’d merely lifted her arm in a wave. No one needed to know their business. Not when she barely knew what was going on.
And this new tentative relationship with Spencer felt private. Between them. Her family was nosy enough, she didn’t need them prying and asking questions and spreading gossip around town about Alex and her Brit.
The door to the bathroom swung open suddenly and Alex only had time to say, “Hey,” before a mouth crashed down on hers and she was wrapped in strong arms surrounded by the smell of Spencer.
He pulled back and gripped her face, a grin splitting his. “I . . . forgot to do that before I left.”
She laughed. “I’m glad I didn’t miss out then, because that was good.”
He stuck his hand in her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone. He tapped away at it, then a chime came from one of his pockets. He handed her phone back to her. “I needed your number.”
She stared dumbly at her phone. “Oh. Oh yeah.”
He kissed her forehead. “I told them I left my phone here so we had to come back. I have to go.”
“Okay.”
He cupped her face. “Until our date, Sprite.”
“Until then, Posh,” she said.
He smiled and then was gone.
Chapter Nine
ALEX HAD CHANGED lipstick three times.
Because she’d bought three new lipsticks to add to her already ridiculous collection in anticipation of this date.
She’d also bought four dresses, two pairs of shoes, and three bracelets. She’d also endured some snootiness at the lingerie store when she’d stomped in there smelling like car oil after work to purchase a new bra-and-panty set.
She was wearing her new underwear and nothing else, because she hadn’t decided what to wear among her four new dresses and the rest of the stuff in her closet. Rubbing off her third lipstick application, she glared at herself in the mirror.
A hand on her shoulder made her jump, and Alex turned to see Ivy in the doorway. She’d told Ivy about the date, and she knew her sister enough to know Ivy had made some excuse to come over when Alex had to get ready. She’d been there for the past hour puttering around while Alex fretted.
When she’d shown up, Alex was annoyed.
Now, she was grateful.
Alex blew out a breath, fluttering the loose hair around her face. “Can I just wear this?”
Ivy’s gaze slid down Alex’s near-naked body. “Um, your Brit probably wouldn’t mind actually, but the public might.”
Alex bent to apply the glue to her fake eyelashes. “He’s not my Brit,” she muttered.
“Well—”
“It’s really not a big deal. I don’t know why we’re even doing this”—she fluttered a hand and blew on the glue stripe on the eyelashes—“this date thing.”
“Because he wants to get to know you?”
“Dumb.” Alex blinked and then placed the eyelashes on her lid, pressing so the glue would adhere. Then she leaned back to check out her appearance in the mirror. “I always feel very Clockwork Orange with one fake eyelash on.”
Ivy laughed. “Well, that’s a great movie to think about to get you in the mood for a date.”
“I heard the book was better.” Alex ran the glue over her second eyelash.
“Never read it.”
“I prefer your romances.”
Ivy waited until Alex had pressed the eyelashes to her lid before hugging her from behind. “I want you to prefer your own romance.”
Alex snorted. “That shit doesn’t exist in real life.” Their eyes met in the mirror, and Alex shrugged. “Well, I guess it did for you. It won’t for me, though. Which is fine. I don’t need it.” She slid out of Ivy’s embrace and tossed her makeup in her bin, blinking quickly because that dumb burning in her eyes let her know tears could fall if she wasn’t careful.