Page 58 of Falling for the Enemy

He laughed, sort of outside himself. “I think this is only the third or fourth time we’ve been in here.”

That was because they never usually made it past the first floor. “Yeah, the foyer gets a lot of action.”

He looked up at her and grinned. “I want to see it.”

“What? No.”

“Oh, we’re going to watch them. All of them. Whatever you have.”

“Do you know how long that would take?”

“I don’t care. You recorded me without my knowledge. You owe me.”

“Uh, no. I don’t owe you shit.” She gathered up her clothes and dressed.

“Jocelyn, I’m going to see that footage.”

“I wasn’t telling you because I thought we should go on some porn-tastic-journey together. I was telling you to let you off the hook.” She fastened the buttons of her blouse and bent to pull on her jeans. “None of this would have happened if not for me. So you’re off the hook.”

“Stop.” He was behind her again, holding her hand so she couldn’t keep avoiding him. “I’m glad you know the truth about that first night, Joce, but you never invited me back. That was me. As you said, it was a choice. I made the decision. And every time after that, I showed up without an invitation, demanding you let me in.”

“None of that matters.”

“All of it matters.” His hand squeezed. “If you’re busy today, have dinner with me tonight. At a restaurant where we can talk like civilized people.”

She frowned. They didn’t do dinners. Like any stray, she sometimes gave him whatever scraps she had left in her kitchen, but they never ventured outside of the house.

“Soren, that’s not us.”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t be. Have dinner with me. We need to discuss things.”

There was nothing to discuss. “We don’t even like each other.”

“I think it’s time we both stop telling that lie.”

She nearly staggered back. If there had been no truth to his words, she wouldn’t have felt them like a physical force threatening to knock her down.

Still, she clung to the safety of familiarity. “We hate each other.”

“I don’t hate you, Jocelyn.”

She broke eye contact. Why was he doing this? This wasn’t the way they did things. They had an understanding. A confrontational way of quarreling that sometimes led to fantastic sex and worked for them.

“One dinner. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Cordelia needs a sweater.” She turned, breaking contact to find her dog something to wear.

He waited silently as she rummaged through the closet and was still waiting for an answer when she emerged with Cordelia’s red autumn sweater.

“I really have to go. We have a new town troubadour performing, and I have to show her where to set up before the chili cookoff and the scarecrow walk begin. You can let yourself out.”

He didn’t look surprised, nor did he object when she abandoned him in her bedroom—running away like a big fat coward.

Cordelia was licking what might as well be a dinosaur bone when Jocelyn found her in the dining room. “Come on, Deelie. We’re going on a car ride.” Those magic words were strong enough to pull her away from the bone long enough to dress her in the sweater, but when she walked to the door, Cordelia went back for the bone, awkwardly dragging it across the wood floor.

“Leave it.” Jocelyn snatched her fleece blanket and picked her up, rushing out the door before Soren made it downstairs.

CHAPTER 7