Spencer had just taken a sip of coffee, and now he choked as he tried to swallow. "What? Are you kidding? No way."
"It would be great for the show," Molly urged. "Which ends up benefiting everyone."
"Except I don't--"
"I think it sounds great," Brooke said, shooting him a mischievous smile.
"You do, do you?"
"It would be good for us, too," Jenna said. "Right now, we only have ten contestants invited in. Our goal is twelve guys for each month's contest."
"See?" Brooke said, unable to hide her amusement. "You'd be fabulous up there. And it really would be a fun twist for the show. And, hey, you'd get to strut around shirtless."
"You'd like that?"
"I'm thinking all the women in the bar will like that." She cocked her head, challenging him.
And to her surprise, he met her gaze, nodded, and said, "All right. Looks like I'm running for Mr. February."
Chapter Thirteen
"You know why they're doing this, don't you?" Spencer asked Brooke. They were still at Brent's house, though the meeting had broken up.
"What? The Mr. February contest?"
"Don't act innocent," he said, pointing a finger at her. She pretended to bite the end of it, then laughed.
"You said you were okay with it," she said.
"I figured it was better than whatever drama they have in mind otherwise."
She considered that, her eyes widening as she followed his train of thought. "Oh. You think that they're worried about the show since we're getting along." She cocked her head, then smiled at him. "Maybe we should be cold and distant? Or fight a lot? I could throw things. But that wouldn't work since you're so hard headed anyway."
"Watch it," he said, laughing as he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her into a sideways hug.
She sighed and leaned happily against him. This was nice. Warm and comfortable without any tension.
Well, maybe some tension. But it was the good kind. That she hoped to work out later. Together. In bed.
"Daddy!" A little voice carried into the dining room, and Jenna scooped up the girl as she padded in wearing footie pajamas.
"Hey, Faith. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"
"Where's Daddy?"
"He walked Uncle Tyree out to his car. He'll be right back."
"Uncle Tyree! Can I go say bye-bye?"
"Okay. Off you go." She put the girl down, then glanced up at Reece, who'd been watching the whole encounter, his expression soft. "I'll follow just in case." She passed him on the way, and Brooke saw the way Reece brushed his hand gently across Jenna's belly.
Jenna hadn't said anything, but Brooke had a feeling the other woman was pregnant. Something sweet and soft twisted inside Brooke, and she forced herself not to look at Spencer. That's what she wanted. A house. A family. Spencer.
They'd gotten so far off course that she had no idea if they could ever get back. And they definitely couldn't if she didn't tell him the truth about why she'd left.
She just wasn't sure how to dive into that conversation.
Several days later, she still hadn't figured out how to broach the subject, but she also didn't have time to think about it because they were thick in the middle of things at the bar.