Page 35 of The Enemy Plot
We unload the car and haul our luggage into the house. It’s modest, with a living room opening into a dining room and an independent kitchen in the back. But the best feature has to be the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks a wooden deck and the sprawling lake beyond. Pretty spectacular.
Upstairs are three bedrooms and a bathroom. Part of me was kind of hoping for a one-bed situation—it is my favorite trope, after all—but unfortunately, Deacon thought of everything.
We quickly go to our rooms to unpack and meet back in the living room.
“Well,” Deacon says, both hands on his hips as he sweeps his gaze around the room. “It’s not my former house,andit’s the wrong side of the lake, but it’ll do.”
“There’s a wrong side of the lake?” I frown. I’m pretty sure it looks stunning from every angle.
“Of course, but only natives know about it. Well, it seems like tourists have caught on too now, since I couldn’t get a rental there.”
I suppress a chuckle. “Looks pretty good to me. Should we go get some groceries?”
Lola comes down the stairs at the same time, and five minutes later, we’re back in the car. On our way to the “good” grocery store, Deacon points out a few of his favorite spots and curiosities, and I love seeing him like this—so different from back home. His frown is struggling to stay on while his smile fights to break free. I see his lips twitching an awful lot.
We park in front of the grocery store, and as soon as we get out, a guy with a large beard and bushy hair calls, “Deacon, is that you?”
“Russell,” Deacon says with a genuine smile. “Good to see you, man.”
I blink in shock, glancing around. It’s like I’m in a parallel world or something. Everything looks the same, but it couldn’t be more different. After Deacon introduces us to Russell, Lola and I disappear into the store while the two catch up. We grab a basket and start shopping.
We know exactly when Deacon enters, because it’s punctuated with a loud “Deacon, my boy!” from the lady at the register.
“Is your uncle a rockstar here or something?” I whisper to Lola, a smile tugging at my lips.
“Seems like it.” She shrugs. “Never seen him so popular.”
“Or talkative,” I add, spying from above the produce section.
He chats with a few more people, and then finally joins us, a full smile on his face. The kind that knocks you off your feet. Literally, in my case. I trip on my other foot before falling on my butt. Only problem? I take down a large Reese’s display in my wake, sending Reese’s pieces, cups, and pretzels skittering across the floor. Under different circumstances, I’d be in heaven right now surrounded by all this candy. Throw in a fluffy blanket and a book, and I’d be set for hours. Except I’m not.
“Are you okay?” Deacon says, his frown returning as he extends a hand.
“Yes.” I take his hand before slipping on a stray package, almost falling again. The way Deacon is looking at me, mixed with the sensation of his callused hand against my soft one, makes me dizzy. Suddenly, I wonder if I didn’t just take a blow to the head. What is happening? Forget parallel worlds. I feel like I’m in a romcom right now. It’s as if everything else has faded around us. “I’m fine,” I manage to say, my throat suddenly dry.
We start to clean everything up, and the lady from the register comes to help us. Her name is Renee, and she’s known Deacon her whole life.
“I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz. Honestly, I don’t know what happened.” Wrong. I know exactly what happened. Deacon Collier’s elated smile, that’s what happened.
“It’s all right, dear.” Renee says with a sweet grin. “Don’t worry about it.”
Deacon is still wearing that amused look, but he doesn’t comment further.
“Now I know why you like to come here,” I whisper once the lady hustles away. “I bet Renee let you get away with anything when you were younger, didn’t she?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says with a knowing glint in his eye before walking away toward the meat section.
We finish our grocery shopping—including a few packs of Reese's—and just when Deacon finishes paying, someone else calls his name. The three of us turn to see a pretty girl, probably in her late twenties, wearing a stunned expression. And possibly drooling.
Renee, we’re going to need a mop over by the register, ASAP.
“Hi, I didn’t know you were back,” she says, tucking a strand of glossy hair behind her ear.
“Hey, Nat. I’m not back. Just visiting.”
“Oh, okay.” She adjusts the strap of her bag, her gaze flitting between Lola and me.
“This is my niece, Lola, and my friend Alice,” he says. We both wave awkwardly at Nat, who’s still ogling Deacon. Suddenly, I wish we’d agreed on a fake dating situation for some far-fetched reason. Then, it would be only natural for me to lean against Deacon or intertwine my arm with his. Heck, I would even kiss him if it’d stop Nat from eyeing him up. I get it, he’s a fine specimen. Now move along. He’s not interested.