Reckless (Mason Family #3) - Adriana Locke Page 0,3

panic. “As in, this is your house? My cousin Libby’s neighbor’s house? As in, I’m in …”

“The wrong house.”

I can’t help but smile as the information I’m relaying finally sinks in. Her shoulders slump, and a look of horror mixed with embarrassment sprinkles across her features.

She pretends to be mid-sob—which she’s really not, thank fuck—and squints her eyes closed. It’s ridiculously adorable.

I don’t know what to do with this girl or this situation. So, I don’t do anything and wait on her to say something instead.

Finally, she blows out a breath and resolves herself to dealing with our predicament.

“I really don’t know what to say except that I’m sorry,” she says. “And, under the circumstances, that seems a little inadequate. I’m aware of that.”

Her face is solemn, the levity from a moment ago now gone. I kind of hate it.

“Sarah from next door was highly impressed with your climbing skills,” I tease, hoping it’ll lighten the mood again. “She said you were basically a monkey.”

“Stop it,” she says, a smile touching her lips again.

“Very impressed. Sarah had you pegged for a lifelong criminal.”

“I don’t even have a speeding ticket, thank you very much.”

I nod sarcastically. “That’s what they all say.”

“What about you?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Maybe I need to worry that I’m face-to-face with a delinquent.”

“I’m only delinquent when it comes to my security system bill, sweetheart.”

She bites her lip again. “Well, if you would’ve paid your bill, you could’ve saved us both a lot of trouble.”

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“I don’t like to point fingers,” she teases, “but if the security system would’ve been on, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

Wouldn’t that be a shame.

We stand face-to-face, our smiles inching wider by the second.

“Maybe we can take dual-responsibility,” I offer. “I should’ve paid the bill, and you should’ve known where you were going.”

She sighs. “I should’ve. I’ve never been there. I was supposed to come for a vacation once, but Ted isn’t a fan of people coming over.” She rolls her eyes. “You have met Ted, haven’t you?”

Ted Seltzer isn’t one of my favorite people in the world. He’s uptight and kind of a prick, and I’ve never understood what Libby sees in him. I go out of my way to be nice—friendly, even—in hopes that it’ll break through the ice and we can have neighborly barbecues because Libby is one hell of a cook, but it doesn’t work. The ice remains.

“Point made,” I admit. “But why were you breaking into Libby’s house? Didn’t she leave you a key?”

She gives me a knowing look. “Libby and I were going to have a girls’ weekend since Ted was in San Diego. Then Ted decided that Libby should go to California with him for a vacation—which is a super not-Ted-like thing to do. Lib told me that I could come here anyway since I already had a plan and a ticket.”

I nod, following along.

“I guess Libby was behind schedule the day she left and forgot to leave a key. She disarmed the security system this morning from her phone but told me I had to figure out how to get in.”

“Did she know you would go through a window?”

“Yes,” she says like I’m ridiculous for asking. “She even told me which window in the back might be open. I guess her guest bedroom and your master bedroom are on the same corner of the house.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.” She smiles. “I’m Jaxi Thorpe, by the way.”

“Boone Mason. But you already knew that.”

She doesn’t say anything else, so I don’t either. Instead, I move around the counter as innocently as I can so that I can take all of her in.

There’s a small mole in the bend of her left arm that she presses her right thumb against. Black leggings hug muscled thighs, and a pair of black-and-white-checkered Vans are on her feet. Small gold circles the size of pencil erasers don her earlobes.

She’s a massive juxtaposition.

The pout of her lips makes her seem innocent, yet the fire in her eyes lends an air of experience that piques my curiosity. There’s a sweetness to her face and an all-out sexiness to her body. The humor in her banter makes me feel like I know her, but a reserved glimmer in her eye feels like a barrier.

It’s a good thing I like puzzles.

“Libby didn’t tell me why you were coming to Savannah,” I say as I’m-not-poking-for-information as I can.

“I’m moving,” she says, stretching her arms over her head. “I sold