Page 35 of Just Can't Fall for the Enemy

His reply came quickly.I was testing your forest knowledge. You passed. I also have some good news for you.

Which is?I wrote.

Seconds later, his reply came in.You won the Most Beautiful Woman at Church Award. Congratulations.

I looked around. There sat Tanner a few rows back. He winked. If he’d been handsome last night with his black tee and windswept hair, he was utterly stunning in his gray suit—a different one from the wedding, surprisingly—with his hair slicked back. He looked like a movie star. By the reactions of those around us, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.Lucille entered the room in a bright-pink dress that barely covered her rear end, and made a beeline for his pew.

The version of Tanner I’d watched on the YouTube channel would have urged her to sit by him. He would have flirted with her, used her in all the ways she wanted to be used, then said goodbye at the end of his visit without a second thought. The entire congregation watched him now, seeming to expect just that.

But the real Tanner nodded politely to her, excused himself, and stood to make his way over to me. Then he took a seat at my side and put his arm around my bare shoulders. I could practically feel Lucille’s furious glare burning through my back. Whispers peppered the audience.

If Huckleberry Creek didn’t know we were dating before, they certainly did now. The realization made me surprisingly giddy.

Tanner leaned over. “The prize for your award is in my car. Don’t let me forget to give it to you afterward.”

“If my reward is a make-out session in your Tesla, I have a nice bouquet of wildflowers to give you.” Not that it didn’t sound like heaven. Simply thinking about a repeat of last night, his fingers tangled in my hair and his lips on my neck, made my cheeks burn.

He didn’t seem to notice. “Actually, it’s something I bought for you,” he whispered. “Although with your town’s active gossip network, you may already know what it is.” He nodded his head at the women across the aisle, who openly stared at me as they whispered to each other. They seemed pretty interested in this gift, which meant it was a good one. Or, heaven forbid, something risqué. My entire face felt hot now. Did I look radioactive, or did I just feel that way?

Tanner saw my expression and chuckled. “I just realized how that sounded. That’s not at all what I—oh, man. It’s a Conservation Club sticker. I gave a donation to the forest preservation fund and got a sticker. That’sall.” Now his face flushed as well.

I felt the laughter bubble up and placed a hand on my mouth to keep it inside. Soon we both giggled like children, our shoulders bouncing, tears springing to my eyes. The pastor reached the podium and shot me a stern glare.

Less than a minute into the sermon, I suppressed a new wave of laughter over today’s topic:loving our enemies.

Three days ago, Tanner had been my enemy. I wanted him gone and would do anything it took to drive him away. Now I wanted him to stay and would do almost anything to keep him here. What changed?

Not him, I realized.Me.My heart changed. Maybe not changed as much as opened just a bit to give him a peek inside. Surprisingly, he hadn’t run away at what he found there or hacked it to pieces like I’d expected. Maybe the ground wouldn’t meet me in this free fall as quickly as I assumed.

I spent the next forty minutes floating in Tanner’s minty scent, acutely aware of his arm around my shoulders and his thumb stroking the top of my hand as he held it. Every inch of my body that ran against his felt as if on fire. I also felt the entire congregation’s eyes boring into the back of my skull. Before long, the service ended and people began to file out the door.I heard mine and Tanner’s names whispered more than once.

He didn’t seem to have noticed when he stood, intertwining his fingers with mine to avoid breaking contact as I rose to my feet. It sent a series of delighted shivers through me, which I convinced myself was the air conditioning. Finally, the chapel emptied except for the pastor, who hurried toward the door with a sharp, upturned eyebrow in my direction and nothing more. He hadn’t approved of my dating Alan, either. I chose to believe it wasn’t a sign.

As we followed Pastor Grey toward the exit, walking side by side, I wondered what this particular walk would be like in reverse—with me wearing a white dress.

Then I reminded myself I wasn’t marrying Tanner Carmichael. I wouldn’t even be dating him after tomorrow.

The thought made my floating sensation dim somewhat as we entered the sunshine outside. The church ladies had already set out food for the luncheon, my homemade rolls—Mom’s recipe—among the spread. A few of them smiled at me knowingly. Others . . . didn’t, looking in every direction but mine while wearing frowns. Because, apparently, shameless flirting at the carnival was okay for those married church ladies but holding his hand as a single woman wasn’t. Tanner saw someone struggling to set up a chair and immediately left my side to help.

After the blessing on the food, we waited in line for a few minutes and piled food onto our plates. Tanner let me go first and kept one hand on my lower back while carrying his plate with the other. When I handed him a roll and told him I’d made them this morning, he swiped one, sank his teeth into it, and groaned. “You have my heart, Sophie Goodman.”

“You know what they say about men and hearts,” I said, grinning back at him.

“Better be careful. Now that I know you can cook, I may have to extend my trip a day or two. This may sound very 1960s of me, but I’ve never had a woman cook for me before.”

“Besides your mom?”

He snorted. “Only if you count mac ’n’ cheese. She didn’t like cooking, so we always ordered out. Same with Oli—” He snapped his mouth shut.

I paused in the act of reaching for a cup, frozen in discomfort at his expression. “Who?”

“Never mind. Let me get that for you.” His hand left my back, and he poured me a cup of chilled cider, his face suddenly closed off. Then we headed toward a couple of empty chairs at the nearest table. “You know, there’s something I still need for this episode that I haven’t found yet, and I’m beginning to worry.”

“What’s that?”

“An interview. A solid, personal story that pulls at the heartstrings.”

Was he hinting at mine? Because it wasn’t for sale. I felt my hackles go up and tried to smooth my expression as I sat and put my plate on the table. “You could try Doc Susan over there. She might have some interesting stories.”

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