Page 37 of Falling for the Enemy

She laughed. “I’ll have my people get in touch with your people.”

Greyson returned a moment later. “Logan, why don’t you help me unload the truck while the girls wrap up?”

Wren appeared, carrying a recognizable box from The Harbor Crumb, and Jocelyn’s eyes widened. “Is that what I think it is?”

Wren laughed and set the pastry box on the table. “Since you’re technically company, I convinced Greyson we needed dessert.” She opened the box to reveal a freshly baked apple pie. “I couldn’t talk him into ice cream, but Esther’s pies are so good I doubt we’ll need it.”

“You should tell Greyson to worry about his own figure and leave you alone.”

“It’s not my figure he’s worried about. It’s my glucose. The doctor insisted we watch my sugar intake.”

“God, you’re turning into such an adult. I don’t even know what glucose is. Are you okay? I had no idea.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a pregnancy thing. It’s really not a big deal if you manage it. And, once the baby’s born, everything usually goes back to normal.”

“Everything?” Jocelyn lifted her brows, and Wren looked down at her engorged chest.

“I know. I’m huge. My nipples are unrecognizable. And I’m starting to freak out about childbirth.”

She squeezed her hand to offer some supportive courage. “You’ll be fine, Wren. You’ll have the baby exactly as planned, in a peaceful birthing pool with a doula chanting over you while Greyson rubs you down with lavender and Enya plays in the background.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

“Of course it is.” She refilled her wine glass and unearthed the pie. “Where’s a knife?”

“I left it on the counter.”

When she moved to stand, Jocelyn jumped to her feet. “You sit. I’ll get it.”

“Thanks. My feet are killing me. I overdid it today.”

When Jocelyn returned and cut into the pie, Wren studied her for a long minute.

“You know you can talk to me, Joce.”

“I know.”

“About anything. I’d never judge you.”

“I know that, too.”

Wren quietly wrung her napkin, then she exploded, “I can’t take it anymore!”

Jocelyn flinched, still holding the knife. “What?”

“I know about you and Soren.”

Jocelyn drew back, waiting for her heart rate to drop. “Excuse me?”

“You and Soren. I know about you two. I’ve known for a while.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No way are you denying this, Jocelyn. It was bad enough knowing and waiting for you to confide in me all this time. We’re not doing the thing where you actually lie to me. I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me this stuff.” Her voice broke before she got the last sentence out. “Cut me a big piece of pie.”

“Jesus, Wren. Don’t cry.” She slid her a large slice.

“Well, you’ve been lying to me!” She blew her nose into the crumpled napkin. “And I don’t mean to cry, but pregnancy makes me extra emotional. I’m not even upset. I’m pissed.”