struggled to keep a calm façade as her heart thumped against her ribs. “The way you lifted me and threw me into the waves the other day? The jar of mayonnaise you wrestled open yesterday? You’re definitely strong.”
He laughed out loud. It was the reaction she’d been hoping for…and dreading. He turned her on like a lamp in a dark room. There was no way it could end well, not for a dorky teacher.
She cleared her throat and forced herself to drop all the crazy, sexy ideas poking at her brain. “All right, if you don’t want to read another dull script, why don’t you try reading a book instead.”
He gave a noncommittal hum, one of his legs bobbing up and down. “I didn’t bring any, just scripts. Actor problems.”
A wicked grin spread across her lips. “You could read one of mine. They’re romance novels, so….” She left the sentence hanging.
Warning sirens went off in her head. She was going to make a fool of herself if she kept trying to flirt.
Although her feeble attempt at flirting seemed to have an effect. A short one, at least. Spence smiled, a spark shining in his eyes, but only for a second. In no time, he was back to fidgeting and worrying his fingers across the tiniest fray in the sofa’s fabric.
She would be a fool to try to flirt with him, but she couldn’t let him fret himself into knots, not when he looked so tempting doing it.
“I know it’s raining,” she said, “but we could go into town, maybe take a day trip up to Portland? I like their museum and they’ve got some great restaurants.”
“No,” Spence answered too quickly, unable to meet her eyes.
Tasha lowered her book. “It’s that guy from the beach, isn’t it? You’re afraid to go out.” She wasn’t sure if she could tease him about this or if it was serious. She opted for teasing. “One guy with a camera, and now you’re afraid to go out and enjoy yourself?”
Spence winced and met her eyes with a shifty, sideways look, but he didn’t say anything.
“Okay, I might not really understand these things,” she said, slipping her bookmark between the pages and setting her book aside. She swung her legs off of the side of the sofa and faced Spence directly. “But how much damage can one guy with a camera really do?”
“Do you read the tabloids?” he asked with a grim note to his voice.
“No, I don’t. And neither do most sensible people.”
He arched an eyebrow at her, playfulness gone. “He took a picture of us together. I don’t care about me, but I worry about you. Anything could happen with that.”
She shrugged. “Sure. Anything could happen. Maybe that picture will get printed somewhere, they’ll say ‘who is the mystery woman with Spencer Ellis,’ a few people will care but not many. We aren’t actually dating or anything, and when they stop seeing pics of the two of us, everyone will forget about it and move on.”
A twinge of disappointment at the thought—at the truth—lodged in Tasha’s chest. Still, it was so much easier to deal with other people’s problems than your own. It was much easier to give advice that seemed simple to follow than to get it. Judging by the wary look Spence gave her, things didn’t run that smoothly in his world. Oh well. Offering unsolicited advice was far less likely to end up with her looking like a fool than trying to come on to him.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted when the silence between them had gone on too long.
“One picture isn’t going to hurt me,” she insisted. He looked doubtful. She wasn’t about to let her rare cheerful mood be dented by pictures that were taken and forgotten two days ago. “If you don’t want to go out,” she said, slipping to the edge of the sofa, “then let’s do something. Let’s play a game or do a puzzle. I saw a bunch of them in the cabinet over there. It’s perfect puzzle weather.” And puzzles were not flirty. Puzzles were boring. They were what a teacher should be doing on her
He laughed out loud. It was the reaction she’d been hoping for…and dreading. He turned her on like a lamp in a dark room. There was no way it could end well, not for a dorky teacher.
She cleared her throat and forced herself to drop all the crazy, sexy ideas poking at her brain. “All right, if you don’t want to read another dull script, why don’t you try reading a book instead.”
He gave a noncommittal hum, one of his legs bobbing up and down. “I didn’t bring any, just scripts. Actor problems.”
A wicked grin spread across her lips. “You could read one of mine. They’re romance novels, so….” She left the sentence hanging.
Warning sirens went off in her head. She was going to make a fool of herself if she kept trying to flirt.
Although her feeble attempt at flirting seemed to have an effect. A short one, at least. Spence smiled, a spark shining in his eyes, but only for a second. In no time, he was back to fidgeting and worrying his fingers across the tiniest fray in the sofa’s fabric.
She would be a fool to try to flirt with him, but she couldn’t let him fret himself into knots, not when he looked so tempting doing it.
“I know it’s raining,” she said, “but we could go into town, maybe take a day trip up to Portland? I like their museum and they’ve got some great restaurants.”
“No,” Spence answered too quickly, unable to meet her eyes.
Tasha lowered her book. “It’s that guy from the beach, isn’t it? You’re afraid to go out.” She wasn’t sure if she could tease him about this or if it was serious. She opted for teasing. “One guy with a camera, and now you’re afraid to go out and enjoy yourself?”
Spence winced and met her eyes with a shifty, sideways look, but he didn’t say anything.
“Okay, I might not really understand these things,” she said, slipping her bookmark between the pages and setting her book aside. She swung her legs off of the side of the sofa and faced Spence directly. “But how much damage can one guy with a camera really do?”
“Do you read the tabloids?” he asked with a grim note to his voice.
“No, I don’t. And neither do most sensible people.”
He arched an eyebrow at her, playfulness gone. “He took a picture of us together. I don’t care about me, but I worry about you. Anything could happen with that.”
She shrugged. “Sure. Anything could happen. Maybe that picture will get printed somewhere, they’ll say ‘who is the mystery woman with Spencer Ellis,’ a few people will care but not many. We aren’t actually dating or anything, and when they stop seeing pics of the two of us, everyone will forget about it and move on.”
A twinge of disappointment at the thought—at the truth—lodged in Tasha’s chest. Still, it was so much easier to deal with other people’s problems than your own. It was much easier to give advice that seemed simple to follow than to get it. Judging by the wary look Spence gave her, things didn’t run that smoothly in his world. Oh well. Offering unsolicited advice was far less likely to end up with her looking like a fool than trying to come on to him.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted when the silence between them had gone on too long.
“One picture isn’t going to hurt me,” she insisted. He looked doubtful. She wasn’t about to let her rare cheerful mood be dented by pictures that were taken and forgotten two days ago. “If you don’t want to go out,” she said, slipping to the edge of the sofa, “then let’s do something. Let’s play a game or do a puzzle. I saw a bunch of them in the cabinet over there. It’s perfect puzzle weather.” And puzzles were not flirty. Puzzles were boring. They were what a teacher should be doing on her
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