Page 98 of Falling for the Enemy

Glancing down at his lapel, he sniffed his suit jacket and frowned. Shalimar. Great. He’d have to burn the jacket.

CHAPTER 12

“SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO?”

Jocelyn stared in a daze at the far wall of her living room as dust motes floated through the air and her thoughts drifted like clouds. She mindlessly pressed her pen to her lips, lost in a deluge of sensual memories from the weekend until her whole body flinched with awareness as someone pounded on her door.

Cordelia flew into action, barking and charging toward the foyer.

Jocelyn pushed her laptop aside—not like she was writing anyway—and moved to answer the door. “Coming!”

When she opened the door, Soren stood on the front porch pressing something into his phone. In the pocket of her kimono, her cell started to ring as he scowled at her. “So your phone does work?”

“Why are you calling me if you’re on my front porch?”

“All day, Joce. I waited all day to hear from you and got nothing. Not a text. Not a call. Not even an emoji. Not a single notification to let me know I might have crossed your mind.”

She silenced her ringer and stepped back to let him in. “Get in the house, you drama queen. Did you ever think I might have been working?”

“I worked. And I still thought of you.”

“Well, you’re more needy than me.”

His eyes narrowed, and he swung the door shut. “Everyone knows it’s common courtesy to follow up after you spend the weekend with someone.”

She hadn’t known that, but she did now. “I’ll be sure to remember that in the future.”

“Good,” he snapped. His gaze then dropped to her robe. “You look hot.”

She hated how much her body responded to his objectification. “So do you.”

He continued to scowl. “I spent the forty-five-minute drive back from the city yelling at you in my head. I thought you were having second thoughts.”

“No.”

“Okay. Good. Because I wasn’t going to sit here and let you come up with a laundry list of doubts about why we can’t do this.”

“I don’t have a list.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you raising your voice at me?”

“I don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I was prepared for a fight.”

“Maybe you have doubts.”

“I don’t.”

She raised her brows. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Sorry. I honestly thought you were going to…never mind. Hi.” He kissed her softly, and she closed her eyes, leaning in for more. But when he glanced at the den, he pulled away and frowned. “What is all this stuff?”

“It’s for the shower.” Nautical wrapping paper, navy blue tissue, ribbons, and twine covered the folding table she’d carried up from the basement. “It’s my temporary craft zone.”

A blue banner that read LITTLE CATCH draped over the armchair. Mason jars covered the coffee table, surrounded by piles of baby’s breath, eucalyptus, rope, shells, netting, and mini buoys. The centerpieces could have been constructed by now if she hadn’t spent the entire weekend at Soren’s. She tried working on them today, but threw the glue gun after she burnt her fingers for the tenth time.

“Turns out, I’m not that crafty,” she admitted, showing him her blistered fingers.