Page 43 of The Enemy Plot

Alice moves in front of me. She takes my face into her hands, forcing me to look at her, and my heart does that weird clenching thing again. “Listen to me, Deacon. None of what happened to your family is your fault. And nothing will happen to Lola. You’re doing a great job with her, and she’s going to have the most wonderful life. Your sister, your grandma, and your mother are looking down on you right now, sending you their strength and all their love.You will get through this. You just have to let go of the guilt first.”

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. As I peer into Alice’s eyes, I see nothing but truth. Honesty. She really believes everything she just said, and maybe it’s time I do the same.

I glance at Lola, and she offers me a weak smile, one filled with comfort and empathy. A smile that looks a lot like love.

“Are you okay?” Alice asks as she finishes drying the dishes. And before you think I let her do all the work—I washed them. As for Lola, she cleared the dinner table before going up to her room. It was a team effort.

“I am,” I say, feeling the truth of my statement. “Today was a good day. A lot of emotion for someone like me, but it was kind of liberating.” As much as it hurt to see my grandma’s house, it felt good too. Allowing myself to dwell on her memory made it seem like she was with me again, if only for a short instant.

Alice smiles softly. “I’m glad. And you seem to be bonding more with Lola too. That’s great.”

I nod. “It is.”

Silence stretches between us, and she pulls on her bottom lip with her teeth. I quickly avert my eyes. If I don’t find a distraction, I’m going to walk over to her, pick her up, sit her on the counter, and kiss her senseless. “Um.” I clear my throat. “Do you want to have a drink on the porch?”

“Sure. I’ll make tea.”

Five minutes later, we’re lounging on the two-seater sofa, though it’s a little chillier here on the porch than I thought. Alice wraps her hands around her mug and shivers.

“Here,” I say, shrugging my sweatshirt off.

“Oh no.” She blushes. “If I take that,you’llget cold. I’ll just run inside to grab my coat.”

I wave a hand dismissively. “I’m not cold.” As if I could ever get cold around Alice. Being near her is like sitting in a furnace.

“Thanks,” she mumbles before putting it on.

It’s weird, seeing my sweatshirt on her—but a good weird. The kind of weird you want to make ordinary.

“Are you sad about going back to town tomorrow?” she asks, taking a sip.

I shrug. “A little, yeah. But it was a refreshing trip, and it did us some good. What about you? Do you miss your friends, your books?”

She chuckles. “Oh, definitely the books.”

I laugh, and the sound resonates on the wooden porch.

“Kidding. I miss my friends too. They’re a huge part of my life. They have been for a while.”

“How did you guys meet?”

“Online,” she says with a smile. “How modern of us, right? We met on Bookstagram. Remember? I told you about it.”

I nod.

“So, we all met there and became friends, then we got this crazy idea of opening a bookstore. The rest is history.”

“How long has it been open?”

“Almost six months.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, okay. I assumed it had been around longer than that. It’s such a popular place on our street.”

Her smile broadens. “I know. We did a ton of marketing online, and my brother and his teammates helped spread the word too.”

“Right. Those guys kind of turned my place into a hockey bar, but I’m not complaining. They’re good people.” And it looks like making businesses popular on our street is their specialty. Keeping it a secret is getting complicated, though. I hope they won’t have to move their hangout elsewhere. And as much as I want my bar tothrive, I don’t want it to get too big. Then, I’d have to deal with staff, and I’m definitelynotready for that.

She chuckles, circling her mug with her hands again. “Yeah, they’re really great. You should go to a game sometime. I’m not really a fan, but they do put on a good show.”

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