Page 81 of Falling for the Enemy

Bubbles fizzed on her tongue as she stilled. She had to force herself to swallow. “This was a gift?”

“I guess I was waiting for a special occasion to open it.”

She pulled out her phone and took a picture of the label, uploading it into a search. “Soren! This is a thirty-five-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne!”

“So?”

“So, I picked it because the label reminded me of Shrek. Oh, my god.” She face-planted into her palms, and he laughed.

“Do you like it?”

“I better fucking like it. It’s three grand.”

“The price doesn’t matter. I just care that you like it.”

“I need a drink.”

“You have one.”

She was now afraid to touch the glass. “Why didn’t you say something before I opened it?”

“I did. I said pick whatever you want.”

He carried the basket of toys into the great room, and she followed, deciding that she wasn’t responsible enough to leave her chaperone’s side on this field trip.

Soren called for the dogs. “King, come.”

Cordelia barked, bolting in from wherever the dogs had been hiding. King followed with a big, open-mouthed grin that made Jocelyn smile in return.

Soren tipped the toy basket on its side and spread out the options. “They’re all yours, buddy.”

The dogs launched at the pile, nosing through the selection, sniffing and wagging.

Cordelia claimed the largest of the bunch, a stuffed snake with a ball-like head. When she yanked it from the pile, King watched with mesmerized curiosity.

“Your mongrel’s emasculating my thoroughbred.”

“She’s doing no such thing.” Jocelyn settled on the floor beside the leather sectional because that felt safer than sitting on the furniture with a beverage.

With the dogs occupied, Soren topped off her glass and settled in next to her. “Music?”

“Sure.”

He typed something into his phone, and guitar rippled from hidden speakers throughout the house, cocooning them in an alternative vibe as Matchbox Twenty crooned about pushing boundaries and taking trust for granted.

“I love this song.”

“I know.” His hand rested on her thigh. “I remember.”

She stared at his fingers for a long moment, playing a game in her head, wondering how long she could pretend this was normal. The longer it stayed there, tracing gentle whirls through her jeans, the more unnerved she became.

Chugging her Shrek-pagne, she said, “Can I have some more?”

“Sure.” He removed his hand to retrieve the bottle, and she took a moment to catch her breath.

Fucking she could handle. Fucking was fast and left no time to think. Intimacy, however, moved slow and left plenty of time for intrusive thoughts to slip in.

“Is it hot in here?”