Page 67 of Engaging with Her Enemy

“More than I already have over Hudson? No.” She pointed to Addie. “If that girl can get one on her ribs without uttering a sound, then I can get this tiny arrow on the back of my neck.”

A man with a bushy beard and mustache that hid his mouth sat beside a chair made for a dentist's office. “Have a seat,” he grumbled. He changed the song on his phone, running through a speaker on the counter. Some alternative song she'd never heard before.

“Can you put that on country?”

He paused in setting out the torture instruments. “Some what?”

Becky lifted an eyebrow, matching his disgruntled attitude. “Country music. Unless you need inspiration with that song, I'd think I'm the one that needs the distraction.”

His mustache twitched, but he picked up his phone and touched the screen a few times. Merle Haggard came on. “Better?”

“Maybe for my father. Give her the phone, she'll find something.”

With a sigh that fluttered the hair around his nostrils, he handed Juliana his phone. In a few moments, Garth Brooks played loudly through the speakers.

“You're pretty high demanding for being such a little thing.” He slipped on a pair of latex gloves. “Now, sit up so I can shave your neck.”

* * *

Hudson drove backinto town at close to midnight. He wanted to crawl into bed with Becky, pretend like none of this had happened, but he'd probably end up on the long end of her shotgun if she heard him come in through her front door unannounced.

He called Dewey, the only guy that didn't have a girl that would be asleep. Lucky him. Dewey was still on patrol and stood outside the Sheriff's station, waiting on him.

“The cot in the back is yours if you want it.” Dewey grinned, holding a cup of coffee. “It’s our deluxe suite.”

“Is it in a jail cell?”

“We like to call them the Statem dormitories. Jail cell is too negative. Don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.” Dewey shifted to the side to let him into the building. “Juliana told me what happened with Cameron to make Becky flip out. I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“You're right. It's not my fault, but it still sucks. Juliana said that she was going to get Becky and Cameron face-to-face and then tell Becky. Said Becky has finally moved past the hurt of us knowing about her secrets.” He closed the front door and walked back to his desk. “The question remains, are you going to forgive Becky?”

“I'm mad, but yes, I'll forgive her.”

“What are you going to do after you forgive her?” Dewey held up his hand. “I’m not looking for details. I mean, in general.”

“I'm moving down here.”

Dewey nodded. “I wondered if you would.”

“I already put in a request to sell my condo unit in Atlanta. I can sell it fully furnished. If she wants me to move in.” He put his small bag in a chair in the corner and poured himself a cup of coffee. “This is pretty good.”

Dewey pointed at himself. “That's because I made it. No one else in this town can make coffee worth a damn.”

Hudson had a lot to figure out. Of course, he forgave Becky for this. The entire situation tied so closely with her deepest emotions, her knee-jerk reaction wasn't unexpected. Next time, though, he wouldn't let her walk away. He did this Juliana's way because she was involved. But the next fight he had with Becky— because he was planning on marrying a hot-headed woman so there would be fights— he'd follow her until she heard his side of the story.

He eyed the cot sitting inside the cell. “Dormitory, huh?”

“Yup.”

Hudson took his last sip of coffee. “Don't close this while I sleep.”

Dewey held up two fingers. “Scout's honor.”

Hudson watched him a moment. “I don't remember you being in Boy Scouts.”

“I wasn't.”

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