Page 14 of Engaging with Her Enemy

“Let Dewey handle it. They obviously caught him, and you'll make it worse with your big, bad macho routine.” She squeezed his hand. “I don't have any extra money to spend on bailing you out of jail.”

He looked down at her. What could she possibly spend her money on? She lived alone, he found out and worked all the time. Clothes? She'd always liked to shop, but that would make for an insane amount of clothing.

“Is this going to hurt you? The fire?” Her eyes searched his with so much concern, he forgot what it was like to have someone care for him. Even a friend. He'd been a loner since he graduated high school, and now he questioned why.

“It won't hurt in the long run. We can make up for the time and possibly the budget. A crap ton of paperwork. But there wasn't anything else in there that wasn't on the computer server.”

“I'm glad you weren't in there when the fire started.”

He couldn't take her concern for anything more than being Becky. She had a firecracker personality with a huge heart. Always had. It didn't mean anything more than that.

A fireman Hudson didn't recognize walked over to them, his eyes mostly trained on Becky. “I was told you were the head guy on the construction site. The fire is out, but you can't go in there yet. That metal building is hotter than hell right now. Not sure if we saved anything.”

Hudson shook the man’s hand. “I appreciate the effort of you and your guys.”

He nodded, and his eyes shifted back to Becky, her hand still linked with Hudson’s.

“Hi, Becky.”

“Hi, Drew.” She smiled, not flirty but nicer than Hudson liked. Familiar.

Drew's eyes dipped down to their hands again, trying to judge the situation. No way Becky missed the obvious question, but she didn't move. Didn't release Hudson's hand.

“I guess I'll see you around.”

“Yup.” She sagged against Hudson once Drew walked around the firetruck.

“What was that about?”

“Long story.”

“Good thing we have dinner tonight. You can tell me all about all your long stories.” He sounded jealous, and he was. Any man that got to touch Becky made him freaking insane.

Becky tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “I need to get back to the diner.”

“If you can drive me back, I'll get changed and come back to rummage through the damage of my office before picking you up later.” The hard workout hadn't killed his desire. It still raced through him each time he caught those ice-blue eyes glancing his direction. It was going to be a long night.

5

Becky picked out a yellow and gray scarf to go over her black wrap dress. The choices for dinner in their small town were few, but that didn't mean she would dress down. They'd decided to go to Rhonda's Roadhouse. It gave them enough privacy with the layout of the place and tall booths so that they didn't add to the gossip mill. Everyone in town already knew about Hudson's stunt with the man outside the diner and then the fire. He didn’t need a dinner out, alone with her, to add to the mix.

Her doorbell rang, and she slipped on her highest black heels as she hopped down the hallway. She didn’t play fair, pulling out all the stops to look sexy after agreeing to be friends. Just friends.

All afternoon she'd closed her eyes, picturing him holding that skeezy man up by his throat against the window. The rage in his face while protecting her. The way his eyes had darkened and almost consumed her when she mentioned not having had sex. She’d caught the reaction.

She fanned her face, worried it might be flushed. Their relationship already had a foundation of platonic friendship. Even if her imagination ran wild, they still had to rebuild that trust before anything else happened.

“Coming,” she shouted. The house wasn't perfectly clean, but she didn't expect him to come in. In fact, it would be a good deterrent to not invite him in after dinner.

She opened the door. Her tongue wanted to roll out of her mouth and pant. Maybe her attraction wasn't only the nostalgia of their friendship after all. His long-sleeve, lavender dress shirt was tailored to his muscular shoulders and biceps. Dark blue jeans hugged his hips. Her heart skipped a little.

His eyes did the same thing, grazing over her body and down to her high heels. No way he still had a thing for her. Even if he did, she wouldn't let it go anywhere. She forgave him, even understood now why he'd broken her trust, but it'd left deep scars that were impossible to get past.

“You look beautiful, Becky.”

She ran a nervous hand through her hair. “Thank you.”

He walked down the porch steps ahead of her. Damn, is this how the guys felt when they checked her out in her jeans? How would he react if she said one of the lines she'd been fed over the years?Damn, man, your butt looks sad without my hands on it.

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