“Neptune?”
But he was inside.
“Did he open the door?”
“Who?” April asks.
“Neptune. He’s outside.”
“I’ll call you guys back in a minute.” I end the call before they can respond.
I move quickly toward the stairs, but as soon as I reach the landing, I stop.
Neptune is inside, standing by the window and staring out into the yard. I walk toward him slowly, following his line of sight, and that’s when I see it — a dog outside with the same coloring, the same size, and the same build.
I move to the back door and open it.
“Skye?” I call out.
The dog immediately runs toward me, tail wagging, clearly thrilled to see me, and I recognize the pink collar instantly. She jumps up, licking my chin, and I laugh.
“Girl, what are you doing here?”
And then I hear him.
“May?”
I look up.
Standing at the side of the house in sweats, a T-shirt, and a backwards hat, a six-pack of beer in his hand, is Aiden.
Chapter 9
Ithink I was more prepared for Neptune to figure out how to open the back door than I was to find Aiden standing there in sweats, a backwards hat, and that devastating smile.
“Aiden?” I step outside just as Neptune rushes past me and straight into the yard.
Skye meets him in the middle. For half a second, they stare at each other before exploding into motion, zooming in wild circles like two best friends who’ve been waiting to find each other again.
“I’m sorry to barge in.” Aiden offers a soft smile. “I used the side gate. I thought you were James.”
“James?” I frown.
“The owner of the house,” he explains. “My uncle noticed the garage open and thought it might be him visiting. We live right next door.” He points to the blue house beside mine—beautiful,clean, tucked into the trees, with wide windows and a deck that faces the water just like mine.
“Oh.” I smile. “No, it’s just me. We’re just moving in.”
“I’m sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll let you finish moving, unless you need any help. Is there anything I can do?”
Honestly, the fact that he’s gorgeous and kind doesn’t hurt.
“A beer sounds kind of great.”
He blinks, glancing down at the six-pack in his hand, and I swear he blushes.
“Are you into IPAs?” he asks.
“I’m more of a wheat beer girl,” I admit, “but I’ll try it.”
