“Which car is yours?” Olivia asked, lifting her eyes to the rearview mirror so she could see Spencer. Chase caught the faint flush on Olivia’s high cheekbones. So the ice princess wasn’t unaware of the Hammer’s obvious charms. Interesting.

Or not. Everyone thought Spencer was the cat’s meow.

“Right there. The navy Bronco.” Spencer pointed out a vintage jacked-up dinosaur that looked like something a farm boy might drive, splashing through rutted roads and pastures. So apropos for Spencer.

No wonder she hadn’t been able to open the gleaming Mercedes coupe she’d tried to climb into earlier. Trust Spencer to be ironic with his driving choice.

“That’s your, uh, truck?” Olivia asked, making a confused face.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her last year. She’s got a new custom engine, and I had her reupholstered with the softest gray leather. Feels like you’re ass deep in a cloud. I thought about dumping the bench seat up front, but that didn’t seem fair to a piece of history like that. Plus, I might want a California cutie to snuggle up next to me.”

“Lord,” Chase breathed, rolling her eyes again.

“So?” Spencer asked as Olivia put the car into park. Chase watched him in the mirror. “You going to take Chase and patch her up? She could use a friend. You look like you could be a good friend, since you came after her and didn’t call the police.”

Olivia flinched. “I’m not a friend. I’m a life coach and therapist.”

Spencer’s pretty blue eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. Total professional. Yeah, I get that. So maybe Chase is right—you won’t be able to help her.”

“Why do you say that?” Olivia jerked her chin up and glared at Spencer in the mirror.

“Well, I can tell a lot about how a person responds to particular statements.”

That seemed to flabbergast Olivia. Chase nearly laughed, because Spencer was an enigma, one of those guys who seemed like one thing on the surface but whose layers played havoc with those who had expectations. Often people didn’t know how to take him, uncertain whether what he said was a joke or what he truly believed.

“What was wrong with my response?” Olivia demanded.

“I’ll leave you to figure that out. Catch you later, June bug,” Spencer said, leaning up and brushing Chase’s cheek with a kiss. “Take care, okay?”

“Thanks for coming for me. You’re a real hero.”

Spencer snorted and then climbed out, leaving a whiff of cologne and an emptiness that couldn’t be explained. He felt like her only friend, and he was bailing. “Best wishes, Olivia. You need me to send you the money for the coffees? Happy to reimburse.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Olivia said.

“Cool,” Spencer said, slamming the door shut.

They watched as Spencer jogged loose limbed toward the Bronco, fishing his keys out of his pocket so he could manually unlock the vehicle.

Olivia’s gaze remained on him as he climbed in.

“So are we going, or what?” Chase asked, licking the whipped cream off the lid. Damn, that stuff was good.