Page 41 of Hearts Aweigh
D ID HE NEED SOMETHING?
Too many things. A list scrolled through his mind. Most of the options involved Abby, but he didn’t voice them aloud. His gaze roamed the elfin face in front of him. Her bright green eyes watched him. Her eyebrows puckered. Spencer’s body rocked closer. He wondered if her mouth was as soft as—
Whoa!
He jerked back and released the hood.
“I need …”
A jumble of stars sparkled. Far more than he saw in the city. They winked at him like they knew what he was thinking. Did Abby know too?
She sniffled and rubbed her arms.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I need my employee to stay healthy. Please dress appropriately for this brisk weather. Who will take care of Madeleine if you catch cold?”
Frigid air stretched between them, and not just from the evening chill. Abby squinted like he was one of her unruly kids. She raised her index finger, hesitated, and curled it back against her palm.
“Yes, sir.” She tugged on the strings of her hood. It constricted until only her nose and mouth were visible. “Is that better?” Her moist lips stood out in the small circle not covered by material.
Better? Not in a million years. It was like giving him a bull’s-eye.
He took a giant step backward. “It will have to do.”
“Thank you for caring about my well-being, sir.” Abby saluted and pushed the hood back so one eye peeped out at him. “I’ll try not to let my health inconvenience you.” She stomped off in the direction of Maddie’s tent, yanked the flap open, and disappeared inside.
Spencer released the breath he was holding. That was close. He’d almost done something stupid. At least Abby didn’t pick up on it. He must rid himself of these fleeting inclinations before people started to notice.
Emily peeked through the crack between the neighboring tent flaps. Her rear end ached from sitting on the hard ground, but their stakeout had proven fruitful. They had proof positive that Spencer and Abby were feeling more than professional admiration for one another.
“Mercy me,” Althea whispered from above her. “Did you see that?”
Gerry dropped onto a beanbag chair with her arms folded. “It’s hard to see anything with you hogging the good spot.”
“I knew it.” Emily peered out the lower half of the crack. “He had that look in his eye.”
Daisy pulled her scarf closer to her neck. She lowered herself to the other beanbag chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Although I can’t deny my son seems smitten, it bears repeating that Spencer is a difficult match for Abby.”
“Maybe you should tell him that.” Althea snickered.
“The poor man’s in denial.” Emily extended an arm from her crouched position.
Althea grabbed it and pulled her up. Rickety pops sounded as her bones cracked.
“I’m getting too old for these night operations.
” Daisy opened her mouth, and Emily held up a finger.
“Not that this was an operation. More like a fact-gathering mission, since Daisy hasn’t given her full support. ”
Gerry pushed her spectacles to the top of her head. “Come on, Daisy. Why do you object to Abby? Is it because she’s from a different social class?”
“Hold up.” Althea gathered Daisy to her side. “You’re making my bestie sound like a snob.”
“Sorry.” Gerry dipped her head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Daisy waved a dismissive hand. “You’re not entirely wrong. It’s true Abby is from a dissimilar background, but I don’t count that against her. I’m protecting her from the stifling, image-driven crowd Spencer associates with. Her free-spirited, loving personality wouldn’t want to live in his world.”
“From the sound of it,” Emily said, “neither would Spencer.”
Gerry tapped her chin. “Abby might be the key to liberate him from society’s prison.”
The ever-polite Daisy gave a rare snort. “Are you writing lines for your novel? I’m not sure Spencer wants to be liberated, and—”
“Daisy,” Emily interrupted. “Do you want what’s best for your son?”
“What mother doesn’t?”
“Then will you admit a warm, caring, affectionate person like Abby would do him a world of good?”
“Abby is wonderful.”
Althea nudged Daisy. “So why not fix Miss Wonderful up with Mr. Crabby? Don’t underestimate her. I bet that girl could stare down a whole host of Mastersons without so much as blinking.”
Emily slapped her leg. “Abby’s partial to him. I can tell.” She paced the confined space inside the tent. “How about we let them decide? If Spencer realizes the life he’s missing, he might not want to go back.”
Daisy bit her lip. “I still have reservations.”
“I’m not suggesting an all-out campaign. Let’s just create an opportunity or two where he and Abby can spend quality time alone together.” Emily extended her hand. “Deal?”
Daisy hesitated, sighed, then clasped her slender fingers around Emily’s hand. “Deal.”
Emily’s mind spun with the possibilities. Now that they’d obtained Daisy’s approval, there was nothing preventing them from aiming the full force of their matchmaking arsenal on Spencer.
The poor boy wouldn’t know what hit him.