Page 117 of Falling for the Enemy

“Thanks.”

As the dogs raced out their zoomies, they passed the time chatting about the mundane details of their life that should have been boring to hear, but lately, everything out of Soren’s mouth interested her. She lived for the boring minutiae of his life like it was her new favorite reality show.

Who were the side characters that filled his world?

What kind of bagels did he love?

Why did he have to arrange things in perfect perpendicular angles? And how many times would he let her get away with turning the items on his bookcase cockeyed just to piss him off?

She wanted to know everything, every kink, every proclivity, and every pet peeve. Like a dog with a bone, she intended to learn every secret he hid.

He had surpassed boyfriend and moved into absolute obsession territory. Especially when he talked about work, because he got so impassioned about what he was doing.

She might not know anything about corporate trade, but she knew he was good at it. It wasn’t cockiness. It was confidence. His self-assuredness in the business realm was incredibly sexy. He talked about the future of Hawthorne Fishery as if every victorious outcome were already won.

She hoped it was, for everyone’s sake, because Soren wasn’t a man who accepted defeat. Deny him his dreams, and he’d burn the world to ash to build them anyway.

“Should I be concerned that your ragged little dust bunny is basically leading my one hundred-sixty-pound prized pedigree around by the balls?”

“Like mother like daughter.”

“King,” Soren called, “Go play in the other sand pile!” King ignored his father and trotted after Cordelia. “He’s totally whipped.”

“Annnd… like father like son.”

“How did I know you were going to go there?”

Smiling up at him with all of her unapologetic cheekiness on full display, she kissed him. “Because you know me so well.”

“Maybe even better than you know yourself.”

Maybe.

Soren was a bit more stealthy in his discovery quest. While she plowed into his private life like a bulldozer, asking blunt questions and making fun of him whenever she couldn’t understand his logic, he simply observed and accepted her weirdness.

Some women got swoony over flowers and chocolates. For her, it had come down to a phone charger.

Soren had one of those expensive phones normal people didn’t own, and the plug didn’t fit hers. Once he realized, he said nothing, but resolved the situation within twenty-four hours. Now, there were chargers that fit her phone all over his house, along with her favorite snacks and the body wash she liked.

The first school bus hissed to a stop at the corner. That was their sign to say goodbye. “How is it seven-thirty already?”

Time always passed at light speed when they were together. “See you tonight?” He kissed her and adjusted the scarf to block out the chill.

“Looking forward to it.”

They hooked the dogs to their leashes and suffered the painful pinch that always came whenever they said goodbye. Just a few more hours, and they’d be together again.

God, she was pathetic. But she was too damn happy to actually care.

Jocelyn practically floated into town on a cloud, smirking as she breathed in his scent on the scarf she’d stolen fair and square.

The cove dulled to a gloomy gray under the cold October skies, but the town’s spirits never faded. Autumn was one of the brightest seasons, rivaled only by Christmas and then the upbeat, sweltering months of summer.

The Harbor Crumb, like every other Hideaway establishment, leaned hard into the season. Esther swapped the lemon scones for maple and pumpkin, so the whole block smelled of cinnamon and browned butter by six each morning. Jocelyn’s Boston crèmes still waited in their pink box, dependable as the church bells, though now Esther tucked a cider donut beside them without being asked.

“Coffee?”

“Not today.”