Page 151 of Falling for the Enemy

Slamming her laptop shut, she shoved her chair back from her desk and folded her body forward, breathing like she was in some sort of Lamaze class.

What the hell should she do?

He hadn’t been away on business.

He had been away with his little blonde vulture.

Shaking, Jocelyn pressed her lips tight and stared at the folded laptop.

She was done. Completely fucking done. If that bitch wanted him, she could have him.

Soren stared down at his phone and scoffed in disbelief. When it first pinged, he’d launched for it and fumbled to answer it so fast it flew out of his hands and skittered across the floor. He’d thought it might finally be Jocelyn, but instead it was a text from Greyson.

Hey, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Jocelyn, but you need to back off. Wren said you keep calling and texting and that you’re now sending flowers. She’s upset and doesn’t want you to contact her. I don’t want to get in the middle, but my wife is upset, and it’s not good for the baby, so please stop. I’m here if you want to talk.

Soren clicked off his phone. “No, I don’t want to fucking talk.” At least not to him. He needed to talk to Jocelyn.

If she wasn’t going to answer his calls or respond to his texts, then she left him no choice but to go over there. Grabbing his keys, he shoved his feet into his gym shoes by the door.

King’s claws ticked across the tile as he peeked out of the den to see what he was doing. Guilt swallowed Soren. They hadn’t done their morning walk, and King clearly hoped this was it.

“Not now, bud. I promise to take you for an extra-long one tomorrow.”

As if understanding him, the dog hung his head and turned around.

Soren grabbed his keys, ripped open the front door, and once again barreled right into Logan.

“What the fuck?” he snapped when he tripped backward, almost falling into his house. “Stop loitering in doorways!”

“Sorry. I was about to knock. I need to talk to you.”

“Not now.”

“Yes, now, Soren.”

“Logan, I don’t have time for this. I have to⁠—”

“Well, make fucking time, goddamn it! I’m your fucking brother, and it’s important.”

Taken aback by Logan’s harsh tone, Soren stiffened, a cold chill running up his spine. “What’s wrong?”

Logan led him inside and paced in the foyer for a solid minute before saying anything. “How about some coffee?”

Soren rolled his eyes. What was he, a fucking barista? “I thought you said it was important.”

“It is.”

“Important, but not urgent, I guess.” Soren led him into the kitchen and filled the machine with purified water. “I have somewhere I need to be, Logan, so either spit it out or go.”

“I want to resign as a board member.”

Soren’s hand stilled as he shaved off the extra grounds. He blinked, wondering if this was what an aneurysm felt like.

“What did you just say?” His voice sounded distant to his own ears.

“I don’t want to be a part of the company the way you do. You should assign the position to someone else. Someone who appreciates it.”

He set the portafilter down, careless of the grounds scattering across the counter, and turned. “Are you fucking kidding me, right now?”