Love Like This, page 14
Her mother picked up on the third ring. “Baby girl? Everything okay?”
“Mama, why do you always think there’s something wrong when I call you? You have to stop this.”
“Because you text more these days. I’m a worrier, so when the phone rings, I worry. Does that mean nothing is wrong?”
“Everything’s fine.” She walked farther into her small kitchen to not completely embarrass herself in front of Hadley, but she couldn’t wait until later to share the news or it would be cold and stale. This was the moment she wanted to share with her mother. “Better than fine. I got the Rodeo Drive order!” Because she was no dummy, she held the phone far from her ear just in time to dodge the ridiculous scream that came through the ear piece. Hadley laughed and Spencer pointed at the phone, shaking her head. “Sorry,” she mouthed. Hadley waved her off as if it were the most natural thing in the world for screaming mothers to show up on dates.
“My baby!” her mother crowed when she came back on. “You’re famous now. Oh, I gotta call your grandma, and Susanne from across the street, Aunt Gladys. Her daughter works at the bowling alley part-time, and mine designs clothes on Rodeo Drive!”
“Don’t give Aunt Gladys a hard time. You two are way too competitive.” Her mother and Aunt Gladys were now competing LA real estate agents who had been rivals since childhood.
“Just let me gloat a little. She deserves it.”
Spencer closed her eyes and smiled. “A tad, then ease up. You know she’s sensitive about Denise.”
“The girl has no ambition. Wants to watch soap operas all day in a housecoat and chat up bowlers all night in a miniskirt. Do you know what she said to Gladys the last time she tried to talk sense into her?”
“Mom, I do want to know, but can we talk about Denise later? I have to go now. I’m on a date.”
Her mother’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Is she pretty?”
Spencer turned to Hadley and nodded. “Very.”
“Is she nice?” her mother whispered.
“Way nicer than me.”
“She have a job?”
Spencer laughed. “A promising one.”
“Oh, I’ll let you go then. This one sounds good.”
“I think that’s the case.”
“Bye, baby. I love you and am so proud! I need to make those calls now.” Another squeal.
“Thanks, Mama. Bye.” She clicked off the call and took a deep breath before turning back to Hadley. “Thank you for indulging me. We have this thing where we tell each other stuff as soon as it happens. Ignore me.”
“You two sound close.”
Spencer tossed her phone into her bag on the counter. “We are. Always have been.”
“I’m close with my parents, too. Though I never had a mom. I used to wonder what that would be like.” She leaned back against the counter and held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I had an amazing childhood and wouldn’t change a minute of it.”
“Raised by your father then, or…”
“Both of them actually. Gay dads. They were the best parents I could have. Warm, funny, and thoughtful. Well, Papa is definitely funnier than Dad, but I try not to point that out or it becomes a whole thing.”
“And they’re still together?”
“They are,” Hadley said with a smug smirk.
Spencer let it go. “How was your Saturday today?”
“Long. I worked for most of it, but we pulled in some relatively high numbers for this time of year, so I chalk it up to a win in the sales column.”
“I bet the clients love you.”
Hadley ran a hand along the edge of the counter. “I do okay.”
“You’re wearing heels.”
She glanced down and lifted one heel-clad foot. Gray strappy Jimmy Choos. A nice choice. “I am. I wanted to look nice. For you. For tonight.”
“Your poor feet must be feeling it.”
Hadley winced. “Minor compromise, but yes.”
Spencer shook her head. “Why would you ever do that to yourself?”
“Because I adore fashion and all things related to it and am willing to suffer for the cause. That simple.” Spencer couldn’t argue with the logic, and in fact, Hadley looked fantastic as always in a pale blue belted sundress, and the gray heels that made her legs look like they went on for centuries. No one could accuse Hadley of anything other than fantastic legs. Tonight, she’d styled her hair partially back, with soft curls that hit just past her shoulders.
“Yeah, here’s the thing. Fashion be damned. I’m going to have to insist you take those things off.” Hadley raised an eyebrow and a bolt of heat hit Spencer at the sound of the words. Asking Hadley to take anything off had her mind overheating. She ordered it to quell and focused on Hadley and what she needed in the moment, which was a break from discomfort. She glanced at the timer. “In fact, we have some time before dinner.” She pointed at her dark leather couch with all the wonderfully soft, broken-in wrinkles. Code for worn and comfy. “Sit. That’s an order.”
Hadley, who regarded her with a suspicious smile, walked silently to the couch, slipped out of her heels, which trimmed a good three inches off her height, and took a seat. “Is this where you want me, Ms. Adair?”
“That’s perfect,” Spencer said and took a seat down the couch. “Now give me those.” She pointed at Hadley’s feet. Without hesitation, Hadley lifted both feet and placed them into Spencer’s waiting lap, her eyes dancing in amusement.
“Are you really about to do this for me?” she asked, in excitement.
“I really am.”
Spencer got to work, starting with the right foot, pushing her thumbs along the bottom, back and forth.
“Oh, my dear goodness,” Hadley said, which pulled a chuckle from Spencer.
She was expecting some sort of reaction, but “Oh, my dear goodness” had not been it. “That’s a new phrase.”
“It’s mine. You can’t have it. Well, maybe I’d share if you keep doing that. Lord help us all. Sweet mercy in heaven above. Yes. I approve. Right there is amazing.” Spencer pushed firmly on what she knew were the sensitive pressure points on the ball of the foot, which prompted a loud moan from Hadley. At the sound, every part of Spencer went into hyperalert. Blood rushed from her head, her limbs, to…other parts. But the sounds didn’t stop there. As Spencer massaged her feet, her ankles, her calves, Hadley continued to gift her with little noises of pleasure that did powerful things to Spencer’s mind and body. Wicked things. And they made her want to do a few corrupt things to Hadley in return. She reached the top of Hadley’s calf with its expanse of smooth skin while the soft music played and her blood pressure climbed. Her fingers itched for more, and not in any capacity to resist, she slid her hand beneath the fabric of the blue dress and boldly caressed Hadley’s lower thigh. Their eyes connected as the massage continued. Hadley’s lips parted and she drew in a shaky breath, making Spencer aware of the fact that she wasn’t alone in her growing arousal. They were off the rails now, and Spencer was okay with that. Keeping her eyes on Hadley, she slid her hands up another inch. Hadley’s eyes fluttered closed just in time for the loud beeping of the egg timer.
“Dinner is ready,” Spencer said quietly, withdrawing her hands from Hadley’s leg reluctantly.
Hadley nodded wordlessly, as if back from a dream, and accepted Spencer’s offered hand to help her up from the couch. When they stood face-to-face, a hint of a smile hit. “That was quite a massage.”
“Wasn’t it?” Spencer said, still shocked at herself for having gone there, but a little proud at the same time.
Hadley nodded. “I can’t say I’ve had one like that. Disneyland on fire, that was good.”
“Glad to hear it. Why is Disneyland on fire?”
“It’s an expression.”
Spencer laughed. “Can’t say I’ve heard it.”
“That’s because I made it up. Just something you wouldn’t expect. Disneyland is a happy place. There would be no fire. Why would there be?” Hadley pointed at the couch. “That massage was just as rare.”
“Okay,” Spencer said, smiling at the random parallel. “Maybe we can do it again sometime soon. I’ve been told I have good hands.”
Hadley swallowed noticeably.
“Let me guess? Tiny oceans of wonder? Is that a relevant phrase here?”
“More like kittens marching into battle.”
Spencer chuckled. “There’s so much to learn. In the meantime, how about dinner?” Spencer headed to the kitchen and took stock. What she found there deflated her recent confidence. The hens looked dry and a tad overcooked. The potatoes had lost their shape and perhaps she’d taken the salad out too early because the leaves had a slight wilt. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Hadley said, coming up behind her. She placed her hand on the small of Spencer’s back again, which helped almost immediately. She softened into the touch like magic. She could use a Hadley with her at all times. What an incredibly useful skill.
“Apparently, I’m no Rachael Ray. I clung to that delusion earlier as I made dinner preparations. It’s proven false.”
Hadley scoffed. “I’m sure what you’ve made for us will be wonderful. The fact that you went to the trouble at all goes a long way in my book.” She glanced around suspiciously. “Music, candles, a massage, and a home-cooked meal. Hmm. Am I being romanced right now?”
Spencer considered her answer and went for it. “Yes. Yes, you most certainly are. Is it working?”
“Uh-huh,” Hadley said, then scooped up the serving bowl of potatoes and carried it to the table. Spencer dimmed the lights to better accentuate the candles and carried the rest of the food to her small dining area, now clad with a tablecloth, of all things.
“Wine?”
“Yes, please!”
Spencer took a look at the options she’d picked up at Kendra’s suggestion. “White or red?”
“Always white. It’s just so much more fun. Wouldn’t you say? I feel like it has more friends, too. It gets along with so many of the foods.”
“Interesting. All right. All right. Fun and friendly wine coming up.” She poured two glasses of a moderately priced Sauvignon Blanc into a pair of wineglasses and carried them to the table.
“To keeping an open mind,” Spencer said, holding out her glass in a toast.
“And to changing the minds of others,” Hadley said, with a triumphant smile.
Spencer shook her head and sipped her wine, which was surprisingly refreshing. Maybe white really did have some fun points on red.
As they ate, she had trouble keeping her eyes off Hadley, who, whether it was good or not, seemed to be enjoying her food. She really was an easy person to please, and you didn’t run into too many people with that descriptor in Spencer’s line of work.
“What attracted you to fashion?” Spencer asked, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “I can’t believe we haven’t covered that.”
“I can tell you that easily.” Hadley didn’t hesitate. In fact, her whole face lit up at the subject matter. “I love the effect the right combination of clothes can have on someone. It gives me the biggest rush when people find their meant-to-be clothes. I leave at the end of the day thrilled with my job.” She sat taller in her chair. “Have you ever noticed? I’m not talking about how they look either. That part is sheer cherry-on-top-of-the-sundae. It’s more about how the clothing makes them feel. When a woman, or anyone for that matter, wears something she feels attractive in, it can change her whole outlook on life, or more importantly, on herself. Make her day better. I love helping with that process.”
Spencer was intrigued by that answer, because in her years in school, it was always about the designer. Their vision, their perspective, their art, and the stamp they wanted to leave on the fashion world. She’d embraced that ideology but hadn’t really considered the end result and the effect her designs might have on a customer. On how they’d feel.
“We’re so different,” she marveled, though it was more of a confession. Because Hadley left her humbled. Not at all a bad thing, just…eye-opening. Like the fun aspect of white wine.
Hadley took a bite of chicken and considered the statement. “How so? You disagree?”
“I don’t. I’m just a selfish asshole, apparently. I see my job and evaluate my success based on my role in the process. It’s all about me. You’re looking at it through the lens of how others feel. The result that fashion has on the world, which is a much more noble stance. I suck.”
“You don’t either. It’s your job to focus on your designs, making you not at all selfish. Stop that. As someone who handles the retail side of things, I’m customer focused. More salad, please. This dressing is from the angels.”
“Also known as my mother. Her recipe.” Spencer passed the salad bowl.
“Don’t lose it. It’s a keeper. You’ll want to pass it down to your own children one day.” Hadley paused. “Do you want children?”
“Yes,” Spencer said. “Does that surprise you?”
Hadley poured a good amount of dressing onto her salad and then added some more. And then a little more. Spencer smothered a smile at her pile of dressing with a little bit of salad. “It does, actually, given what I know.”
“I mean, I don’t want them today. But in the scheme of life, I would definitely like one, maybe two rugrats if we’re talking about best case scenario.”
“So, you’re not afraid of long-term commitment when it comes to children?” Hadley ate a forkful of salad.
Touché. “I’m not afraid of long-term commitment, Hadley.” She gestured with her fork in a circle. “I’m just not going to stress out about forcing it with one person my entire life when I’m not sure humans are made for it.”
Hadley leaned in, dipped her head, and caught Spencer’s gaze. “Trust me. They are.”
Spencer laughed. She should have seen that coming. “Your thoughts are noted for the record. But let’s say it doesn’t work out after ten, fifteen wonderful years with someone. Without the messy piece of paper binding two people together, they can disentangle their lives and move forward.”
“That is the most unromantic sentiment, Spencer. Does your mother know you feel this way?”
“I think so.”
“You should make sure she does. If not, maybe she’ll give you a talkin’-to.”
Spencer nearly spat out her food. “A talkin’-to?”
“Yes, a stern one. You need it.” Hadley stood and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “You sit and finish your wine and let me get these dishes.”
“Absolutely not. You’re my guest. I’ll do the dishes.”
“You prepared a wonderful meal for me and I’m doing them and that’s final. If you say no again, I’m going to throw a fit and leave. Do you want me to leave?”
Spencer stared at her wide-eyed, unable to tell if Hadley was bluffing or not. “I mean, no, I don’t.”
“Good, then sip that wine, and I’ll be with you shortly.” Luckily for Spencer, she had a dishwasher, which only required Hadley to load and not scrub. As she rinsed the dishes under the faucet and moved them to the dishwasher, she hummed softly to the music and swayed her hips. At one point, she pulled her hair out from the clasp that held it partially back, letting the strands of blond tumble down fully. If washing dishes had ever looked better, Spencer wouldn’t have believed it.
“You sure I can’t help?”
“Only if you want to see me break down, tears cascading from my face in failure.” Hadley passed her a preview of what that might look like.
Spencer held up her hands. “All you, then.” As she watched a calm, cool, and collected Hadley putting the finishing touches on her now clean kitchen, she couldn’t help imagining the kind of life where they’d trade off on those kinds of chores or take quiet dinners together. Way too early to be envisioning those kinds of evenings, but she found herself doing it anyway.
“What are you daydreaming about over there? Whatever it is, it looks pretty wonderful,” Hadley said. “I detect you’re a million miles from here.” She dried her hands on a dish towel and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“No, I was actually much closer.” She stood and walked slowly to Hadley. “Thank you for doing that.”
“I might have earned a little something,” Hadley said, looking skyward and pointing at her lips.
“More food?” Spencer asked playfully. “I have an apple pie we can pop in the oven for later, and it has the most interesting lattice design on the crust. I think you’ll like it. I didn’t make it, though. It’s one you buy and heat.”
“No. That’s not it,” Hadley said, holding her pose. There was nothing cuter, or hotter, than this woman standing in her kitchen.
“Lip gloss?” Spencer asked, loving the delayed gratification, and turned the hell on by it. “I could grab you some if—”
Hadley gasped in mock indignation, snapped her focus to Spencer just in time to be kissed. “Oh,” Hadley murmured. And kissed some more. Spencer could taste the sweetness of the wine still on her lips, and for good measure licked the bottom one. They were up against the counter, and then the refrigerator as their mouths danced and their hands explored. Both spots were good, but not enough. Yes, it was date three, but there was no way she was going to be presumptuous or expect anything beyond what they had going. Three was technically really early, and she was a practical-minded person. If anything, making out with Hadley would be blissful and torturous but she could handle—
“Where’s your bedroom?” Hadley asked in her ear, her hands tugging at the hem of Spencer’s top.
Kittens marching into battle.
“Down the hall. But fair warning, Minnie Mouse is in the bathroom. Door is open. She just prefers the tub when I have company, so I let her chill there and take everything in.”
“Pause. You have a cat named after a Disney character?”
“I do. Minnie for short.”
Hadley’s lips found hers again instantly and worked wonders the Magic Kingdom couldn’t keep up with. All hail Walt Disney. Hadley slid her hands into the backs of Spencer’s pockets as they walked, and kissed, and walked and kissed. She paused and pulled something from Spencer’s jeans. The crumpled Post-It from the fridge. Spencer rolled her lips in. Wonderful.
