Page 45 of Fighting Words

My eyes widen. Now I’m gesticulating with my hands, going to bat for Marcus. “You could weaken his feelings for her, make him less involved. Maybe have him be interested in someone else? Eleanor or Nadia? Nadia is another engineer—they would have that in common.”

He tilts his head, studying me for a moment. “Do you think Marcus wants Nadia?”

No. Not at all.

He shakes his head firmly, his mind already made up. “It cheapens it for the reader. Marcus loves Amelia. He will put up a fight.”

I throw up my hands and walk away. This is too much. I’m going to do laundry and process this revelation and try not to let it derail my entire day.

I want that scene. To hell with the rest of the plot, the rising climax and the pulse-pounding conclusion. I want Nate to get to work on that kiss. I want to know how he’s going to do it. Already, my loyalties are shifting. While I’m hand-washing my clothes in the upstairs bathtub, I reconsider Marcus and Amelia’s relationship. Marcus wasn’t perfect for her, not exactly, but I was willing to overlook that before. He has never been Amelia’s complement so much as her equal, too much like her in every way. She was comfortable with Marcus, and the reader wanted that for her because in a world where everything else was a jumbled mess, it was good for Amelia to have that steady partner by her side, someone she could really depend on day in and day out. But deep down, there was no challenge for her there, and Amelia, beyond anything else,lovesto conquer a challenge.

I hang my clothes on a line in the upstairs hallway with a fan oscillating back and forth, drying them slowly. I should be embarrassed that I’m hanging my panties and bras up in plain sight, but I’m too preoccupied to care.

I hoped that by coming up here, I’d calm down and maybe come to terms with this abrupt change. In fact, it’s the opposite. I’m only working myself up more, getting angry in ways I can’t totally explain or put my finger on.

From the upstairs window, I see Nate outside, near the back of the property, repairing a small section of the stone perimeter wall. Those rocks he was sorting in the shed the other day are stacked beside him. He’s hard at work, his movements diligent and methodical.

He’s not the least bit bothered by our morning. He’s totally fine!

Before I know it, I’m flying down the stairs. I don’t bother with a coat. I don’t even have shoes on!

I’m marching across the yard behind Nate’s cottage, melted snow seeping into my wool socks, numbing my toes. I’m almost to him when I shout his name.

He turns, his expression hardening with annoyance once he sees how I’m dressed.

“Go back inside.”

I completely ignore this, coming right up to him until I’m panting with anger against his chest. “What’s her reaction when he kisses her? Does she slap him?”

“Summer—”

“I have to know! You just dropped a bomb on me! I mean, this whole time,for years, I’ve been happy with Marcus and Amelia, but now suddenly, I want her to break his heart and go after Julian. Why?! I really liked Marcus.”

God, I’m angry. Inexplicably so.

He stares down at me, sweeping his gaze over my features. He’s still calm when he replies, “Marcus is a likable guy. You were supposed to feel that way.”

“Julian is not for her!” I suddenly shout, angry for some reason. I’m a hair’s breadth away from stomping my foot like a child.

“He is.” His bold tone sends a shiver down my spine.

“Amelia is too sensible to fall for him! Too smart to let a man like Julian seduce her!”

Nate scowls. “Go back inside, Summer. Your socks are soaked.”

I release a guttural groan, born from the depths of my soul. “Don’t tell me what to do! God, I’m so mad at you!”

“Good. This is what I want readers to feel.”

“This?”

“All of it.”

“You drive me insane!” I erupt.

He steps forward and hauls me up off the ground, lifting me and carrying me back inside. Apparently since I wasn’t going to follow directions, he’s taking matters into his own hands.

“Put me down, you jerk. I can get frostbite on my toes if I want to! It’s my own damn body!”

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