Page 42 of Oh, Puck!
Thankfully, the tablet panel near the kitchen flares to life with a soft chime, cutting the conversation short.
"Visitor at Main Door."
We all stare at each other, frowning. Because the voice coming from the tablet is unmistakably, comicallyBritish.
I look at Beck. "Have you been messing with the settings on that thing again?"
"I've never been with a British chick before. She sounds hot."
The idiot shrugs like this is a completely normal thing for a human to do.
I shove out of my chair and make my way over to the screen. "You need help."
Bringing up the security feed with a few taps on the giant screen, the front gate camera shows a female figure standing at the entrance. Under the light, she looks a little like she's bracing herself for something.
Josie.
What the hell is she doing here?
I stare at the feed for a second longer than necessary, then buzz her in the gate and stride to the front door.
"Who is it?" Beck calls after me.
"Your mom," I say, the lie smooth and automatic.
"LIAR!"
The front door looms before me, and suddenly the tacos are sloshing around in my stomach. I take a breath, steadying myself, then pull it open.
And there she is.
Josie Whitfield, standing onmyfucking doorstep.
"Josie?"
She's backlit by the glow of the setting sun. Her hair is slightly windswept, her cheeks flushed, and she's clutching her phone against her chest.
She's wearing a white sundress that's blowing in the breeze, and the way it flaps is revealing how smooth and tempting those pale legs look.Fuck.She looks soft and approachable, and absolutelynothinglike the corporate shark from the conference room.
"Hey," she says, and her voice is breathless and uncertain. "I'm so sorry to show up like this. Rose said you might have grabbed my laptop by mistake when you left The Yard. I need it for tomorrow's meeting, and I texted, but—"
"My phone's inside."
I clear my throat as her hand falls away from her chest, revealing just how low cut that dress is.
"Um, just… Come in. I'll grab it."
She hesitates for a second, then steps right past me and into the foyer.
The scent of her perfume hits me as she passes. It's floral, sweet, and way too familiar. I remember that smell from the night we spent together.
Laptop. Get the laptop. She's here for the laptop.
I lead her through the entryway, past the sweeping staircase and into the open-plan living area. The mansion opens up around us, all vaulted ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the ocean like a living painting.
Josie's eyes widen as she takes it in. The driftwood chandeliers. The plush sectionals arranged around a stone fireplace that we've never lit.
"Wow," she breathes.
