Page 50 of Falling for the Enemy

Ella picked up a slice of pizza. “You called him Jack. You usually refer to him as jerk and Scrooge. I even think I heard‘Oscar the Grouch’ a few times, but never, ever Jack.” Ella looked at everyone else for a nod of agreement. “So, the plot thickens.”

“Seriously? Because I called the man by his name?” I shook my head. “Did none of you hear the part about the baby sloth? We called him Buster, and for one blissful hour he snuggled right here under my chin.”

“I heard that part,” Layla said. “It seems the two of you put away your differences long enough to help a baby sloth. Admirable.”

“That’s right. See, Layla understands.” I returned to my pizza and knew too well that the sisters were still watching me, waiting for details.

I blew out an exasperated puff of air. “Fine. We started off as usual, abrasive and contentious.” I laughed. “On the plane I gave my extra pastry to the stranger sitting at the window instead of Jack, who was on the other side of me.”

Everyone straightened taller. “You sat next to him on the plane?” Isla asked.

“Yes, and I’m ashamed to admit I fell asleep and somehow ended up with my head on his shoulder.”

“That’s so cute,” Layla said with a dreamy smile. “And he let you,” she added.

Aria nodded toward her. “Good point. Especially if you didn’t share a pastry with him.”

I sat back. “I do feel sort of guilty about that. Especially because he sort of—” I paused not sure if I should continue. My sisters tended to go into belated panic mode when I had near death experiences. Even if I was sitting happy and alive in front of them, they’d all go into hand-wringing worry just hearing about it.

“Sort of what?” Ella asked.

It seemed I’d blown it by starting the story, and I knew they were going to insist on the ending. “He sort of saved my life … twice.”

“Oh my gosh, why didn’t you tell us?” Aria had shifted to the motherly tone she always used when she thought we were making a mistake or bad decision.

I looked around at the worried faces at the table. “Uh, because of this reaction. I’m here. I’m fine. Clearly, I didn’t die.”

“Yes, thanks to Professor Grumpy, apparently,” Layla said. “You’ve never said—is Professor Grumpy handsome?”

I sighed. This conversation was going in a much different direction than I’d planned. “I suppose so, in a young, George Clooney sort of way.”

Isla and Ella laughed. “Well, that says it all, doesn’t it?” Isla managed to spurt out.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Isla looked around the table, and the others nodded in agreement. “Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth,” she said confidently as if that was all she needed by way of explanation.

“I don’t think George Clooney ever played Mr. Darcy,” I said.

“You’re just avoiding the truth behind the statement,” Ella said. “You two hated each other and then you liked each other and he came to your rescue, so did this story end with a kiss?”

I wasn’t expecting the question, and while I’d had no intention of mentioning the darn kiss, I also could never, ever lie to my sisters. I was on the hot seat while the pizza was getting cold. I couldn’t lie, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t fill my mouth with pizza to avoid answering. Unfortunately, my sisters made up a wall of fortitude when it came to waiting for information.

I chewed slowly and looked around the table at each of them. They stared at me like cats watching a bird in the yard.

“They kissed.” Aria finally broke eye contact and picked up her slice of pizza.

The others nodded in agreement and returned to their pizza slices. Why I thought that would be the end of the conversation was beyond me. Wishful thinking, I supposed.

“What happens next?” Layla asked.

“Well, after the pizza, I’ll probably go to bed. I’m exhausted from traveling.”

Ella wadded up her napkin and threw it at me. It bounced off my forehead. “Are you two officially dating?” she asked.

“Is that against department policy?” Aria, always the pragmatic one, asked.

“We’re going to neutral corners,” I explained.

---