Tess cleared her throat as her cheeks flushed. “Uh… sounds like Andy’s home.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t step back immediately. Couldn’t. He stole one more slow kiss—quiet, lingering, enough to tell her leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.
But he made himself go, brushing his thumb along her jaw before heading for the stairs.
Halfway down, someone rounded the corner of the house. Andy.
Brian instinctively prepared for the old tension—the guarded look, the careful distance.
Instead, the kid lifted a hand in a quick, casual wave. “Hey.”
He blinked. “Hey.”
Not exactly a conversation for the history books, but hell, it was civil. Better than civil, actually. Ever since the night Brian had mentioned the Rad-Wars tickets, Andy had been... not friendly, exactly, but open in a way he hadn’t been before.
The kid kept walking, heading up the steps with a small grin Brian couldn’t quite place.
Brian didn’t fool himself—the teenager wasn’t smiling because the special agent who’d once hauled him into an interview room had suddenly become his favorite person. Something else had clearly put him in a good mood.
Maybe he’d been out on a date. Maybe he’d had a good day.
Whatever the reason, Brian wasn’t going to overthink it. He’d take the win.
He glanced back once—Tess was still on the landing, watching him with that soft look that made his chest tight in the best way.
As he headed to his truck, the faint taste of her kiss lingered on his lips.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Andy had the beach house to himself. It was his day off, and Tess was still at work. The house was quiet—no dishes clinking in the sink or the low murmur of her on the phone carrying through the rooms. Just the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional gull screeching somewhere outside.
He sprawled across the couch, a video explaining game design running on one side of his screen while he scrolled through a forum debating the pros and cons of the new Ghost Thread expansion. His fingers tapped restlessly on the keys. He couldn’t sit still. Not since the run-in with Diego and his crew a few days ago.
He wasn’t scared—okay, he was, but not enough to admit it, even to himself. Mostly, he was pissed they’d cornered him in front of Kelle. He’d thought about telling Tess. For maybe three seconds. Then he imagined the look on her face—fear, worry, the tight edge of disappointment—and that shut him up fast.
His phone buzzed against his thigh.
Unknown Local Number.
His stomach dipped.
He almost let it go to voicemail. Almost.
Instead, he thumbed the green button. “Hello?”
A low chuckle slid through the speaker. Smooth. Confident. Unbothered.
“Afternoon, Bing.”
Andy’s throat closed around the sudden rush of adrenaline. “How’d you get my number?”
“I have my sources.” Diego’s voice was slick as oil. The same voice that had taunted Andy on the sidewalk.
He swallowed hard. “What do you want?”
“Relax. I’m calling with an opportunity.” Diego’s tone changed. Now it was almost friendly, which sent an unwelcome shiver down Andy’s spine. “Heard you’re handy with a computer.”
Andy froze. “How do you know anything about me?”
