Loving Bailey Read Free Page A

Cottage and the hemlock grove. Walking under
the trees with their miniature pine cones was her favorite part of
the trail. She started across the gravel drive to the shelter of
the trees.
    “Bailey!”
    She turned and saw Spencer standing on the
front porch of the cottage. He’d traded the bomber jacket and soft
leather shoes for hiking boots, a blue fleece and jeans which
hugged what she couldn’t help but notice was a very nice butt. He
raised his coffee cup and motioned for her to join him.
    “Hey,” she said, a little out of breath from
her frustrated walk around the lake. “What are you doing here? And
up so early?”
    He laughed, a warm deep sound which rumbled
through her and caught her off guard. When he held the gate open
for her to climb onto the porch with him, her body brushed his. It
was the barest touch, a whisper of hip and shoulder, but the way
her breath caught had her tripping over her feet. His steadying
hand, warm and firm through the cotton of her T-shirt, did nothing
to quiet the pounding of her heart.
    “I decided to stay for a while – longer than
I originally thought. This seemed more comfortable than a room in
the lodge. And,” he said, raising his cup. “It comes with a coffee
maker and a kitchen.”
    “You cook?” She flashed to an image of him
standing at a stove, broad shoulders and tousled head bent over a
frying pan. A thin current of heat threaded its way through her
body and she swallowed. Hard.
    “I heat things,” he said it with a grin,
light sparking in his blue eyes and she wondered if her face
betrayed what she’d been thinking.
    “That doesn’t explain what you’re doing up
this early. It’s not even eight o’clock. I thought you couldn’t
wake up in time for the continental breakfast at the lodge.”
    “Not couldn’t, wouldn’t. Danishes in the
lobby weren’t enough to make me want to get up early.”
    “So what did you have for breakfast this
morning? What was interesting enough to drag you out of bed at
seven something?”
    “You said you walked here every morning. I
thought maybe I could go with you?” He smiled that broad smile, all
warm and welcoming, and ran a hand through his hair, pushing the
sandy brown waves away from his face.
    The honesty of his words and the intensity of
his gaze took her back a step and she stuttered over her response.
“Um, sure. Okay.”
    “Do you want coffee first?”
    “No thanks. I’m a tea drinker.” But the
thought of following Spencer and his snuggly fleece covered chest
inside the cottage held definite appeal.
    “Sorry, I don’t have tea. Or anything else
for that matter.” He smiled sheepishly and a tendril of pure lust
uncoiled inside her. “Maybe you could suggest a good grocery store
at the bottom of the mountain?”
    “It’s a bit of a drive, but Blacksburg has a
nice Whole Foods and some specialty shops.”
    “Sounds good.” Spencer set his cup on the
railing and gestured her back through the gate, following
behind.
    “And,” she said, going out on a limb. “The
farmers’ market is Tuesday. I go to it every week.”
    “I thought that farmer guy brought you your
produce,” he said, catching up to walk beside her. “Wasn’t that why
he was at the restaurant last night?”
    Trace. She didn’t think she could think about
Trace and make plans with Spencer. If they went to the market
together Trace would see them but it would serve him right. Maybe
it would make him move at something other than his normal glacial
pace.
    And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t given him
plenty of chances.
    “Yes. He delivers what I need on the weekend
or when I’m too busy to make it down the mountain. But I usually go
to the farmers’ market, too.” She jumped across the empty creek bed
and waited for him follow. When he was safely across and they were
standing in the shadow of one of the enormous rhododendrons, she
turned away so she wouldn’t have to see his expression if she
misread the situation. She was