Page 95 of Working with the Enemy

“Yes, yes, I’ll marry you, Sebastian Anderson,” I said, tears spilling out of the corners of my eyes.

My future husband beamed and slipped the ring onto my finger. It was a perfect fit—just like the two of us. He scooped me up in his arms and kissed me with all the devotion in the world. His hands framed my face as his thumbs stroked my cheeks to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop. I wrapped my arms around his neck, the thumb of my left hand toying with the cool metal band on my third finger.

When we pulled away, I smiled. “Love you,” I whispered.

“Love you more, Charlie,” he whispered back. His arms came around me, and I nestled into that perfect space against his chest where I fit so well.

I glanced at the window, feeling my parents’ presence in the room. Wherever they were, I knew they would be happy for me. Happy for both of us. Because of them, I learned how to experience real, unconditional love. And now, I had someone with whom I could share it. Right here in our Second Empire home, at the edge of New Elwood.

ABIGAIL

Engaged! Charlie! Already! Everything had happened so fast. But it was like she told me that evening, when I was covered in drywall dust and sweat—when you know, you know. Whatever that meant.

I knew two things: sledgehammers were fun, and I should probably be kept away from them.

But I was happy for her. Truly. I’d had several months to warm up to Sebastian, and I was getting there. He acted all high and mighty, but he had a big heart, and I could tell he loved Charlie something awful. Everything he’d done to get her the house was definitely aiding his cause. I’d been worried that he was an old bachelor dog who wouldn’t be able to learn new, committed dog tricks.

And hadn’t he proved me wrong?

An engagement. Now that was commitment.

As I glanced at the big house in the fading light of the sun, I pushed a strand of damp hair off my forehead and thought of the day my ex-husband had proposed to me. I prayed that Charlie would have better luck than I’d had. Judging by the look in Sebastian’s eyes and the way he seemed to quietly move mountains for her sake, I felt pretty confident that she’d be okay.

Sebastian’s car engine roared, and I waved them off as I headed for the path that would take me to the promised land. The promised land being my home, where I would shower off this dust and grime, pour a glass of wine, and sink into my couch for the evening. Alone.

Seeing the two of them together made me feel even more stuck in my singlehood. Or excuse me—divorcehood. So I dragged my feet along the paved walkway, kicking the fallen autumn leaves aside.

A blue pickup truck drove up, slowing in front of the house. The driver’s side window slid down, revealing Rex’s friendly face. He leaned a muscular arm on the window frame and tilted up his dark aviator glasses.

I scowled at him.

His lips kicked. “Where are you off to with that frown?”

“I’m not frowning.”

“Uh-huh. C’mon, get in, you demolition devil.” He nodded toward his passenger seat.

Danger trembled in the air. Rex and I weren’t exactly on great terms these days. My eyes narrowed. “What for?”

“Remember that favor you owe me?”

Unfortunately, I did. And my expression conveyed as much. See, that night that Charlie spent on my porch swing? That hadn’t exactly been the best night of my life, either. And Rex had been the savior that I hadn’t asked for. And now I owed him—I owed him big.

Rex’s brow lifted. “Well, I’m calling it in.”

His eyes trapped me where I stood. I couldn’t run. Couldn’t hide. Couldn’t ignore my brother’s best friend, unless I wanted to blow up my entire life. But a favor for Rex—the fire marshal Boy Scout—how bad could it possibly be?

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