Frenemies

by Emma Hart

  Hannah hurried along after me. “It’s not my kitten.”

  “It is your kitten.”

  “What’s this about a kitten?” Grandma asked, removing a cheesecake from the pan.

  There was lemon on top. I knew this one belonged to Mason.

  “She fed a kitten, let it inside last night, and calls it Lucifer. It’s hers now, right?” I asked.

  Grandma didn’t even think about it. “It’s your kitten, Hannah.”

  She groaned and sat at the table. “I don’t even like cats.”

  “Shouldn’t have fed it then,” Grandma said without batting an eyelid. “I fed Mason, and now he’s dating Imogen.”

  “See? Told you.” I slipped behind Grandma and touched my finger to the cheesecake and popped it in my mouth. “Ugh. So good. What are those?” I pointed at the cake tubs filled with mini squares of cake.

  “Fran is coming over tomorrow before she gets Maya to select the wedding cake.”

  “You’re all slipping in like one big happy family, aren’t you? Doesn’t anyone care about me?” Hannah moaned, slumping against the counter.

  “Yes,” Grandma said. “Now that Imogen is spoken for, I’ll be turning my matchmaking efforts to you.”

  She froze, and her eyes widened like saucers. “You what?”

  “I’m turning my expert matchmaking efforts onto you. I’ll find you a husband, Hannah Anderson; you mark my words.” Grandma pointed a red fingernail in her direction before she headed outside to where Mason was mowing the lawn.

  It was even easier to bribe him these days.

  “She’s doing what to me?” Hannah asked, turning to me. “I don’t want her anywhere near my love life.”

  “You don’t have a love life, Han.” I scooped some of the cheesecake frosting onto my finger again.

  “You only have a boyfriend because a guy you used to bone moved in next door and you got over yourself,” she retorted. “I’m dating.”

  “When was your last date?”

  “Two weeks ago.”

  “That wasn’t a catfish.”

  “Three months,” she mumbled. “I don’t need her. I’ve got my kitten now.”

  “I thought it wasn’t your kitten.”

  She raised her nose in the air in an affected manner before she blew a raspberry at me. “I’m a woman! I reserve the right to change my mind!” Then she turned and stormed off toward the front door.

  “Send me pictures of Lucifer!” I yelled after her.

  “You got it!” she called right back, then slammed the door.

  “Who in the hell is Lucifer?” Mason grabbed my wrist and put my cheesecake-laden finger into his mouth. He groaned. “So good.”

  “Hey!” I swatted at him. “Hannah’s kitten.”

  “Hannah has a kitten?”

  Jesus.

  I explained the whole thing to him and leaned against the counter. “So now she has a kitten.”

  “All because she doesn’t want Jen interfering in her love life?” Mason raised an eyebrow. “Seems pretty extreme.”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t have the best luck. I might have to stage an intervention and get her out there a little.”

  “Ah, because you’re the expert now.” He boxed me in against the counter, one hand gripping the edge either side of my hip.

  “No, I’m just helpful like that.”

  “If you were single, would you still do it?”

  “No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You’re a hypocrite, Imogen Anderson.”

  “What’s a hippy-crit?” Maya asked.

  I peered around Mason. “Someone who tells someone to do something and then does it themselves.”

  She frowned. “Like when Mama tells me no chocot before dinner, then eats some?”

  “Just like that,” Mason said. “Also known as celebrities who tell us to watch our carbon footprint then go and fly around the world in their private jets.”

  “You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?” I sighed.

  “Hey, I’m not the one telling everyone to mind their green footsteps or whatever they are,” he replied.

  “You should mind your green footsteps,” Grandma said. “You’ve trudged grass all over my kitchen floor!”

  I laughed. “You’re in trouble now.”

  “And you, Imogen, stop eating my cheesecake!”

  I fake-gasped. “That was Mason!”

  “I don’t care who it was! I told you to leave it alone! Both of you!” She glared at us both with the force of an army, and we both shrunk back.

  Maya sidled over to Grandma. “Mrs. Jen, can I had a piece, please?”

  Grandma bent over as far as she could. “A piece of cheesecake?”

  Wide-eyed and innocent, Maya nodded softly.

  “Gosh darn it, of course you can, sweetheart!”

  I shared a look with Mason as Grandma bustled over to the cheesecake and cut her a small slice.

  “There you go. You go take that to the table and be careful not to get it on your lovely pictures now.”

  “And you were worried about how she’d fit into your life.” Mason snorted and stepped aside to look at Grandma. “I think she’s whipped.”

  “No kidding. She’s not even that nice to me and she’s actually my grandma.” I stared, dumbfounded.

  “Enough of you two,” Grandma said, waving her hand. “Go and be useful outside. Mason, you missed a spot. Imogen, well, you’re annoying me.”

  “Love you, too, Grandma,” I said, walking outside. “I’ll remember that next time you want a drink.”

  “I hid it.”

  “Not very well.”

  “It’s on the top shelf of the cupboard where you can’t reach it!” Mason said quickly, then ran off into the backyard to the mower.

  Grandma gasped. “You would do that to me? Your own grandmother?”

  “Oh, be quiet, woman,” I shot back. “Are you really going to set Hannah up with someone?”

  “I don’t know. I just said that to annoy her.” She closed the cupboard after confirming I had, in fact, put her beloved Jack out of her reach. “Keep her on her toes, you know?”

  “She’s keeping the kitten, you know.”

  “Of course she is. She named it. Everyone knows that once you name it, it’s yours. Or in this case, she belongs to the cat.”

  That was true.

  I walked over and kissed her cheek, squeezing her shoulders gently. “You’re the best grandma in the world.”

  “You’re not having a slice of this cheesecake.”

  “Go away, then.”

  She laughed as I walked out to the back porch where Dolly was sleeping in the sun. “Convince Mason that my hydrangeas are roses, and I’ll give you two.”

  “Done,” I said. “I just have something to do first.”

  I darted back inside and grabbed Maya—who had already finished her cheesecake—and carried her upstairs to the bathroom. “You wanna get Daddy?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Yes, Immy!”

  I passed her two water balloons and took the other four myself. Mercifully, none spilled, and we carried them downstairs. Grandma watched us with amusement as we conducted a ninja experiment to get onto the back porch without him noticing, then down onto the grass.

  “Ready, set, run, and throw!” I whispered.

  Maya launched herself off with a war cry Tarzan would have been proud of. Her first balloon hit Mason square in the stomach and soaked him from the waist down. Before he had a chance to react, I threw my first one at him and hit him. Maya’s second missed, but my next three all hit him.

  Maya’s laugh bounced off the walls, echoing through the air as she ran away from Mason. He caught her easily, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around in the air.

  “You little monkey!” he said, tickling her and making her squeal.

  “Daddy nooooooo!” She laughed, shrieking every other breath. “Noooo!”

  I laughed, bent over at the waist. Oh, God,
that was fun. I dropped my head so I was looking at the ground, but the next thing I knew, I was tackled from the front and sent flying backward.

  I screamed as my life flashed before my eyes. I hit the freshly-cut grass with a gentle thud, and Mason flattened himself on top of me.

  “And you! I know that was all you!” He resumed his tickling, but this time it was on me, and holy shit, I couldn’t breathe.

  I writhed beneath him. “Stop! Ahhhh, oh, my God! Stop!” I forced out between laughs. “You’re making me wet!”

  “Good. Then you’ll be ready for later.” He laughed, pinning me to the ground. “You’re corrupting my child.”

  “You gave me permission for water balloons.”

  “I rescind it.”

  “I don’t give a damn.”

  He laughed, dropping his forehead to mine. “Of course you don’t, Immy.”

  “Why would I? That was fun.”

  “Even though half of you is covered in grass and the other half is soaking wet?”

  I smiled, looking up and meeting his eyes. “Even though half of me is covered in grass and the other half is soaking wet. Totally worth it.”

  Mason grinned lopsidedly, then dropped his lips to mine. The warmth of them was a stark contrast to the coldness of the water that now coated both of our bodies.

  “Hey! Stop making out in my yard!” Grandma yelled from the porch.

  There was a giggle and a rush of freezing cold water as a water balloon exploded over both of us.

  “Oh!” I squealed as Mason rolled off me.

  “Jennifer!” he yelled.

  I wiped my eyes in time to see a giggling Maya run back to the porch with her arms waving like crazy.

  “Nobody wants to see your porno!” Grandma yelled.

  “What’s a porno?” Maya asked, just loud enough for us to hear.

  Grandma paused.

  “I’m gonna let her explain that one,” Mason muttered.

  I snorted. “I wouldn’t. She’ll tell her the truth.”

  “Jesus. Jennifer!” Mason scrambled to his feet at the exact moment Grandma guided Maya inside. “She’s four! Jennifer!”

  I rolled onto my side, laughing my ass off.

  This wasn’t how I’d expected my life to change in the last few weeks. When he’d rolled up in the moving truck, I hadn’t thought for a second that what we once had could be rekindled—and in a new, more adult, mature way.

  Water balloons notwithstanding.

  And at this moment, watching Mason scoop Maya up and cover her ears, as I laughed, I found myself thankful.

  Thankful for the day he broke my heart all those years ago.

  Without it, none of this would have happened. We may have survived this long in a relationship, but I really doubted it. Our old relationship was immature and childish. Without that heartbreak, he never would have had Maya, and he never would have found his way to my hometown, much less the house next door.

  And I was so, so thankful that he had.

  Because of it, I now had a wonderful relationship with Mason—one where I smiled every day and laughed every hour and felt loved even more frequently than that, even when we bickered. I had the sweetest little girl in my life who brightened every second, and even Fran was quickly becoming one of my closest friends.

  I was blessed beyond measure, and as I saw Grandma exited the house onto the back porch with an armful of water balloons to chase Mason—God only knew where she got those from—I knew one thing.

  I was, beyond a doubt, the luckiest girl in the world.

  “Take cover!” Mason yelled, running toward me. “It’s a mutiny! We need more water balloons!”

  I looked over in enough time to see Maya appear with a mixing bowl full of them and a manic look in her eye.

  Mason dragged me up off the floor toward the shed. “We’re on the same side! Pay attention, woman!”

  I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe, never mind pay attention to a water balloon fight.

  Spoiler alert: we lost.

  Thank you so much for reading FRENEMIES!

  I really hope you enjoyed Mason and Imogen’s story. If you’re looking for more in this world, NUMBER NEIGHBORS is coming on March 24! This is Hannah’s story, and it might have a little something to do with a certain hot, British veterinarian…

  NUMBER NEIGHBORS:

  Bad Idea #241: Sending a dirty text to your number neighbor.

  In my defense, my friends did it too, and their neighbors took it as the joke it was.

  Mine didn’t.

  He responded with a dirty text of his own. Next thing I know, I have a standing texting date every night at ten-thirty.

  Until I have to miss it because the stray kitten who adopted me one week ago is sick. The only person I know who can help me at this time of night is my British next-door neighbor and local vet, Isaac Cooper.

  I’ll keep him overnight, he says. Here’s my number to call me in the morning, he says.

  The problem?

  I know that number.

  Because I’ve been texting it every night for the last four days.

  Number Neighbors is coming on March 24th and is available for pre-order at your favorite retailer now!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.

  She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.

  Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.

  Yes, really. She's that sarcastic.

  You can find her online at:

  www.emmahart.org

  www.facebook.com/emmahartbooks

  www.instagram.com/EmmaHartAuthor

  www.pinterest.com/authoremmahart

  Alternatively, you can join her reader group at http://bit.ly/EmmaHartsHartbreakers.

  You can also get all things Emma to your email inbox by signing up for Emma Alerts*. www.emmahart.net/newsletter

  *Emails sent for sales, new releases, pre-order availability, and cover reveals. Each cover reveal contains an exclusive excerpt.

  BOOKS BY EMMA HART

  Standalones:

  Being Brooke

  Catching Carly

  Casanova

  Mixed Up

  Miss Fix-It

  Miss Mechanic

  The Upside to Being Single

  The Hook-Up Experiment

  The Dating Experiment

  Four Day Fling

  Best Served Cold

  Tequila Tequila

  Catastrophe Queen

  The Roommate Agreement

  The Accidental Girlfriend

  Kiss Me Not

  Kiss Me Tonight

  Kiss Me Again

  Frenemies

  The Vegas Nights series:

  Sin

  Lust

  Stripped series:

  Stripped Bare

  Stripped Down

  The Burke Brothers:

  Dirty Secret

  Dirty Past

  Dirty Lies

  Dirty Tricks

  Dirty Little Rendezvous

  The Holly Woods Files:

  Twisted Bond

  Tangled Bond

  Tethered Bond

  Tied Bond

  Twirled Bond

  Burning Bond

  Twined Bond

  Tricky Bond

  By His Game series:

  Blindsided

  Sidelined

  Intercepted

  Call series:

  Late Call

  Final Call

  His Call

  Wild series:

  Wild Attraction

  Wild Temptation

  Wild Addiction

  Wild: The Complete Series

  The Game series:

  The Love Game

  Playing for Keeps

  The Right M
oves

  Worth the Risk

  Memories series:

  Never Forget

  Always Remember