Page 64 of Voice to Raise
Spencer placed a hand on my arm. “I’m not really hungry yet—hot dog, cotton candy, and popcorn was a lot.”
“Yeah. Amazing we didn’t get tummy aches.”
He grinned. “Yes, a throwback to childhood. Why don’t you give me a tour that culminates in the recording studio? Then, if we’re hungry, we can eat something light.”
“Uh…” I squinted. “Just about everything’s frozen. If you want to eat it, we might consider unfreezing it or putting it on to cook now.”
“Oh.” He pursed his lips. “What were you planning for dinner?”
You.
Somehow, though, I was pretty sure that wasn’t what he meant. “I don’t have plans.”
“So we could do a salad?” He grinned. “You should see your face.”
“Hey, I eat salad.”
He arched an eyebrow.
I pursed my lips. “Okay, not recently. I mean, I ate healthy from the café.”
“That was days ago.” He linked his arm in mine. “Let’s check out what you’ve got in the kitchen.”
Deciding we could circle back for the guitar, I guided him into the massive kitchen. The family room was part of the colossal space. I pointed. “Dining room is in there. Very formal. I never use it.” Well, almost never. I pointed toward another archway. “Living room. Very formal. I never use it.”
He grinned. “So you like it here? It’s…” He spun around.
“Not cozy?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say that. I think you could fit my entire condo in this space.”
The kitchen and living room combo ran the length of the back of the house. “You’re probably not off with that estimation. The primary suite is directly above here and the same size.”
He gaped.
“Well, just about. That includes two walk-in closets that are each bigger than your sleeping area, a five-piece bathroom, and a lounging room.”
“You have an entire room for lounging?”
“Northeast corner. You can see some wicked sunrises.”
He pointed to the back of the house. “North facing?”
I nodded. “Still gets plenty of light. The front foyer is two stories with massive glass windows. We look out over Trafalgar Park. My parents bought this house for the prestige—but didn’t factor in the noise of the park. We rarely opened windows on the south side of the house.”
“Sheesh. I love the noise kids…” He trailed off. “I wouldn’t keep the windows closed. Especially if there’s a nice breeze. Nothing like airing the house out.”
I paused, my hand on the handle of the freezer. “Does it feel stale?”
He shook his head. “Far from it. Just…I love fresh air. Admittedly, city air isn’t the cleanest, but when the wind blows in off the Georgia Strait and brings the tang of water? There’s just something to that.”
Something I’d never considered. “Yeah.” I opened the freezer. “Oh, how about some flatbread? There’s a vegetarian option.” I wrinkled my nose before I realized how that might look. Then I tried to school my expression.
He rolled his eyes, then grabbed the package. “We just have to preheat the over and cook for twelve minutes. That won’t take much time. So tour, music, then yeah, we can come back here and this looks just perfect for dinner—not too heavy.” He winked. “And vegetarian.”
Something inside me warmed a bit. “Tour?”
He nodded.
