Page 167 of Falling for the Enemy

“You’re hogging the pillow.”

She scoffed. “You know, I was just thinking how perfect you are, and you ruined it.”

“I ruined it?”

“Yes.” She tugged the pillow out from under him and shoved it in his face. “Here. It’s all yours.”

But when she tried to roll away, he caught her and dragged her right back to him. Pressing his face into her neck, he whispered, “You’re so easy to piss off and so sexy when you’re mad.”

She tsked and snapped, “So, what, you’re just pissing me off on purpose now? Great…”

But as she rattled on, she didn’t realize that every irritated word out of her mouth had him falling deeper and deeper in love with her. And at the rate they argued, he’d never stop wanting her in this life or the next or even the one after that.

EPILOGUE

“IT DOESN’T MATTER IF YOU LOVE HIM OR CAPITAL H-I-M-M-M”

To the Hearts of Hideaway Bay, I have a confession to share…

Someone I look up to recently questioned my pride, which got me thinking: What is pride?

Sometimes pride is as singular as one man’s ego. But other times it expands as wide as self-respect can reach. Pride is freedom, community, and the confidence to be yourself. Pride is the refusal to be ashamed.

I’m filled with pride when I think of this column. It has been a joy to chronicle every meet-cute and play Secret Cupid throughout the years. But for as much as I love writing about these little local love stories, I long for the day I get to live my own.

Being “Lady Lovewatch” has allowed me the freedom to express myself honestly. My columns have become a sort of wallpaper in the background of our quirky town, and I thank you for giving me a place to share my truest self, as honestly as I know how.

I take great pride in Hideaway Bay, the only home I’ve ever known and the place I want to stay. I believe my Mr. Right is out there, but I need your help finding him, so he can eventually find me. And to do so, it’s time I came clean. While I love to watch you fall in love, I’m not a lady at all. And it’s time I show you exactly who I am.

But first, I need a sign. Something small that says I’m welcome as I am. A symbol of pride, a ribbon in a shop window or a flag on a front porch, something in every color of the rainbow, so someone like me feels safe and free to visit or stay in a place like Hideaway Bay.

Can you do that for me? Can you make Hideaway Bay a place where all are welcome, so that one day my perfect prince might come find me? If you do, I will reveal myself to all of you by next June.

Yours with pride,

Lord Lovewatch

Jocelyn set the paper down and gaped at Soren. “You knew? This whole time?”

“Not the whole time.” He sliced into the long cardboard box and withdrew a slender pole wrapped in plastic. “I found out the night I had the anxiety attack. I told him how crazy in love with you I was, and he told me he likes men.”

“Unbelievable. I had no idea. Damn. I really thought I had a better gay-dar than you.”

“Well, I didn’t guess. He confided in me.” The dogs panted at Soren as he opened another box. “He sent the column to me before it published—to proofread.”

Her jaw gaped. “I’m the author! I would have proofread it for him.”

“He must not trust you the way he trusts me. I am his brother, after all.”

Her eyes rolled. “Whatever.” The dogs nosed through the empty boxes. “They think you ordered them toys.”

“That’s because they’re smart.”

Soren withdrew two stuffed rabbits and threw them into the den. The dogs lunged, and squeaks erupted from the other room, followed by a loud bang.

“There goes the coffee table.”

“Hey, keep it down in there!” Soren yelled, and Cordelia barked back. “Don’t sass me, you little demon.”