Emergency Engagement (Love Emergency 1)

“Why would I need to redo it?”

He cupped her jaw, tipping her face up, and brought his mouth inches from hers. Her gleaming lips parted. “Because I’m about to mess you—”

A thump on the driver’s side window brought them both up short. He craned his neck to find Hunter’s grinning face on the other side of the glass.

“Go away.”

“You want privacy? Seriously? You’re in a fucking parking lot, Lancelot. Anyway, Ashley wants to meet your fiancée. Or as she put it, she wants proof of life.”

His partner reached out and snagged someone by the arm, and a second later Ashley’s exasperated face appeared at his window. “I did not say that.”

Beau lowered his window. “Hi, Ash. Did you two come together?”

“Absolutely not,” she replied. “I was walking in. He was walking in. I didn’t walk fast enough.”

“She’s lying. She deliberately fiddled with her shoe just to make sure I caught up.”

“I stepped in a pothole.”

“On purpose.”

“I’m three seconds from kneeing you in the balls. On purpose.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Ash.”

Rather than watch his partner take one in the family jewels, Beau opened his door and looked back at Savannah. “They’re harmless. I promise.”

She laughed and opened her door. “I’m not worried.”

Hunter rounded the front of the truck and offered her a hand. “Hi, Savannah. Pleasure to officially meet you.”

“Likewise.”

He gestured to Ashley. “This ball-buster is Ashley… Ow!”

The brunette lifted the skinny heel of her red leather ankle boot from Hunter’s instep and shook Savannah’s hand. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve worked with these two for a long time, and I have a soft spot for one of them,” Ashley said.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Hunter complained.

“Not you.” She patted Beau on the shoulder. “You. Though I have to admit, he’s given me some moments over the years.”

Savannah glanced at him. “You don’t say?”

“I do. The stories I could tell. One of these days we’ll have to grab a drink and I’ll give you the lowdown.”

Savannah fell into step beside Ashley. “Oh, look. A tavern. Can I buy you a drink?”

Beau held the door while Savannah and Ashley chatted their way into the bar. “Bet she’s talking about the time you passed out giving twenty-five kindergartners a tour of the station,” Hunter said as he walked in.

“I’m not going to take that bet. I am going to take a beer, and”—he stepped away for a minute to confer with the ladies—“Savannah wants a white wine, and Ashley wants champagne. You might as well run a tab.”

“And I’m buying because?”

“Because I remember who blurted the news about my engagement, thus giving Ashley the opportunity to spend an evening assassinating my character.”