Page 126 of Falling for the Enemy

“No, this is all mine. I need your finger.”

His brows shot up. “For?”

She grabbed his hand and shoved his index finger over the knot of a ribbon. “Keep it there.” She tied a bow over his knuckle, and waved him to pull it back. “Don’t go anywhere. I have like twenty more bows to make.”

“How many gifts did you buy them, Joce?”

“I might have gone a little overboard.” She wrapped another box with blue ribbon and pointed for him to place his finger on the knot. “This is the first baby, and Wren’s my best friend.”

Wren was one of Soren’s best friends too, and Grey was his brother, yet he’d only had Marie purchase a card and planned to drop a check inside. Maybe he should consider adding something else, or doubling the check.

His gaze returned to the stack of books. “You bought them a whole library.”

She used his finger until those little ribbon nooses started to pinch. “Well, everyone’s contributing to that. Didn’t you read the invitation? It said to bring a book to help build Baby Hawthorne’s first library.”

He nodded, making a mental note to text Marie and make sure she bought a book for the kid.

Things had been nonstop at work as they prepared for next week’s board vote. He spoke briefly to Logan and Greyson, reminding them how important their presence was at this meeting, but they still didn’t seem to comprehend the significance.

If they lost the vote, Hawthorne Fishery would survive. It would go on making money as it always had, but eventually those outdated ways would cost them. Maybe not in their lifetime, but in their children’s, and that was something that Greyson especially should care about.

“Okay.” Jocelyn turned in circles, reminding him of King when he couldn’t figure out where to lie. She blew a loose piece of hair out of her eyes. “What’s next?”

She wasn’t really asking him, but he felt the need to take over. “Where’s your list?”

“List?”

“Yeah, a handwritten collection of items and tasks grouped together in a specific sequence according to priority and need.”

“Oh. It’s up here.” She pointed to her head.

No wonder it looked like a bomb went off in there. This place had turned into her own chaotic little squirrel nest—shiny distractions everywhere.

He grabbed a notebook from her desk. “Time to get organized.”

“What are you doing?”

He rummaged through her desk drawer. “Getting a pen.”

“Those are my writing pens.”

“Well, can I borrow one?”

“Fine. But make sure you put it back when you’re done.”

He tried not to take it personally that the party planning had made her so high-strung. As soon as he got a grip on what needed to get done, they’d tackle everything in one long, successive line of efficiency.

“Tell me what needs to happen.”

Over the next twenty minutes, Jocelyn dictated random tasks, most of which needed some clarification. Soren worked everything into one of three columns: To Do, Need, and Delegate.

When she reviewed his list, she frowned. “Delegate? Who the hell are we delegating to? This is crunch time.”

“Logan can help. I’m texting him a list now. He can pick up all the last-minute items you need in town while we work this mess into some kind of order.”

“Everything’s already organized.”

“Joce, you can’t get thirty centerpieces to the restaurant if they aren’t boxed up. I’m telling Logan to bring boxes first.”