The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

“Great,” Sawyer muttered. “This’ll be as much fun as going to the flea market.”

“Hey,” Clover squawked, her love of all things refurbished and refinished had become legendary after she’d out-negotiated Sawyer—something that was unheard of in their family. “You like going there now.”

“No,” Sawyer said with a suggestive grin. “I like watching your ass as you strut around looking for deals.”

Clover rolled her eyes and shook her head, glancing over at Hudson. “Can you do something about your brother?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been trying my entire life and failing miserably.”

Sawyer crumpled up a piece of paper from the conference table and launched it at Hudson, who dodged it with ease. Then, his brother leaned down and whispered something in Clover’s ear that made her eyes go wide and her cheeks turn pink. Deciding that his mission here was complete, Hudson got out of the office and into the elevator before those two got any more sickening. He made it all the way to the fiftieth floor before he pulled out his phone and texted Felicia for an update.

Chapter Nine

Felicia took a sip of tea from her Ants Do It To The Death mug and tucked the stray strands of hair that had slipped out of her ponytail behind her ears and looked at the clock on her phone for the fiftieth time in the past thirty-five seconds. Her bottom lip was starting to throb from her nervous nibbling, and if her heart went any faster, she’d be worried about passing out on the walk down to the coffee shop. Worst of all, she had to wait five more minutes before she could go down.

According to Hudson, she shouldn’t show up early. On time was fine, but early at a table with both of their drinks already ordered and delivered was a no-go. While that seemed like efficiency to her, he called it—she scrolled through the texts from the past ten minutes—“a stalker’s delight.”

Why was he so obsessed with that description? She wasn’t being all creepy and stalkery. Of course she knew Tyler’s drink order. They’d literally known each other for more than fifteen years. That most of that time had been with him visiting the Hartigan house and her butting into her brother Frankie’s room to say hi and try, unsuccessfully, to hang out with them didn’t matter. Oh, forget it, she wasn’t doing it Hudson’s way. He’d never know anyway. She got up from her chair, grabbed her phone, and began walking out of her cubicle. Her cell buzzed in her hand.

Hudson: Don’t do it.

She froze and looked around for his hulking frame. No Hudson. No hidden cameras. Nothing. How did he know?

Felicia: Do what?

Hudson: You’re already in the coffee shop aren’t you.

Ha! He was guessing.

Felicia: No, I’m in my cubicle.

Technically true.

Hudson: Sitting down?

She looked around again. Still nothing but the itchy feeling that he’d bugged the ant lab somehow. She sighed and admitted the truth.

Felicia: Standing in the doorway.

Hudson: Caught you!

Despite everything, one side of her mouth turned upward. He was incorrigible.

Felicia: You need a keeper.

Hudson: And you need to follow directions better.

Felicia: I’m a scientist. We’re naturally inquisitive.

Hudson: What are you wearing?

She looked down to fill the blanks.

Felicia: Jeans and a T-shirt.

Hudson: Lab coat?

Felicia: Hanging on the back of my chair.