Page 57 of One Hot Moment

I'm now a member of two families---and I haven't even asked Tabitha to marry me yet.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tabitha

By the time we've all piled into the shop, Spencer has recovered from the shock of realizing he'd gotten the time line of the American Wives Club a little bit wrong. I know he's worried about his brother, and that's the real reason he's been kind of out of sorts this weekend. But he relaxes considerably once Mom and Dad begin the tour of antiques in this shop.

"We have several areas of interest in this shop," Dad says. "We call them districts. See, over there we have the Victorian District. Next to that is the Mid-Century District, and in the corner there you'll find the Art Deco District. That's just the beginning."

"Let's introduce him to the gang," Mom suggests. "They'll be tickled pink to meet our British friend."

I lag behind the others just a little as my parents, Bree, and Spence approach the main counter at the front of the shop. Mom makes the introductions, but Spencer charms the pants off everyone with his wit and cheerfulness. Laughter echoes through the shop. Customers don't seem to mind, and they go on browsing even while our little group is having a great time. I've stayed in the background strictly so Spencer can enjoy the spotlight.

Then he stretches out his hand to me. "Come over here, Tabitha, please. Why are you hiding back there?"

I push through the crowd to reach him. "Didn't want to get in the way. You were having such a good time, and I was enjoying the Spencer Halfenaked Variety Show."

"This lot find me fascinating only because I'm British. If I were Canadian, no one would give a toss about me." He glances around the shop. "This is the most interesting and inviting antiques shop I've ever seen. Well done, all of you."

After a slow perusal of the shop, Spencer has had enough and wants to go back to the homestead to pick up our bags. He loved the shop, but we have to work tomorrow. We've got a six-hour drive ahead of us. After grabbing our things, we walk out of my tiny house. I lock the door, feeling a twinge of disappointment. But I've outgrown the tiny-house lifestyle. Still, I plan to visit my family much more often. I never want to become a stranger to my own parents or my sister.

I voice those thoughts to Spencer as we amble across the clearing, heading for the driveway.

"Sabrina will harass you endlessly to make certain you visit the homestead often," Spencer says. "But I've taken a job thousands of miles away from my home, and I won't be able to see my family has often as I'd like."

"They understand, I'm sure."

"I do have a few mates who own private jets. Maybe they would lend me their planes once in a while so I could visit my family."

"Yeah, I bet they would. From what you've told me about your friends, they sound like very generous people."

He stops at our car, opening the passenger door for me. "I'll ask about that when we're at Sommerleigh."

My parents and Sabrina rush out of Mom and Dad's house to hug us and kiss our cheeks and babble about how much they'll miss us. Jeez, we'll only be six hours away in Arlington. But as we start rolling down the driveway, I realize I do miss them already. For too long, I've let work dictate my life schedule, rather than the other way around.

Family first, from this moment on.

Spencer and I have another fun road trip back to Arlington, singing along with my favorite tunes and teasing each other with sarcasm. When we stop at a gas station, he disappears inside it for longer than seems necessary. I find out why when he climbs into the driver's seat carrying a plastic bag stuffed with goodies. Yes, that means junk food. Bottles of pop too.

"We can't possibly eat all of this food, Spence. You must have developed a serious sugar craving."

"There are cheesy potato crisps too. And also three kinds of nuts."

"Well, that makes it a healthy snack, then."

He tickles my tummy until I'm laughing so hard that my eyes water. Then he gets a sneaky look on his face. "Now I know the secret spots where I can tickle you. I have filed that information deep inside my brain. I won't forget."

"That sounds dangerous. A sexy Brit who knows how to tickle me into submission? Heaven help me."

"Don't worry, pet. I'm sure you can find my secret tickle spot if you try very, very hard."

That steamy smirk always makes me melt for this man.

So, I settle a hand on his thigh. "I accept your challenge. Sooner or later, I will find your sweet spots, and then I'll have you enthralled forever."

"But you've already done that, love. I was enthralled by you the moment we met."

"We might need to pull over at the next rest stop. I need you to screw me so badly it's embarrassing."

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