Page 110 of Broken Blood Ties

I cycle through the other house cameras, tracking her as she strides down the hallway, then again as she heads toward the stairs. But she doesn’t ascend them right away. She searches for the camera pointed at the steps, and when she finds it, she turns toward it, moving up the steps backward.

Confused, I type out a message, freezing halfway through it when her hands skim underneath her T-shirt and she gradually lifts it off her head, exposing a black lace bra.

She smirks at the camera, and all the air rushes out of me when she turns again to walk up the steps. Her hands slide over her bare stomach and behind her, reaching to fiddle with the clasp of her bra.

I pound the desk, closing out my messages and dialing Licon.

“Boss?”

“Get out of the guard booth.”

“Sir? Everything okay?”

“Fine. Don’t look at the inside cameras and get out of the booth. I’ll text ye when ye can go back in.”

As I’m conveying this to him, the clasp of her bra is undone, and I groan at the rush of blood forcing me to stay glued to the video. She has a few steps left when I hang up, and I switch the camera view to the one in the upstairs hallway. She’s holding her bra to the front of her, and when she smirks at the camera—like she knows I’m behind this one now—I sling another message at her.

You know, I have guards that watch this footage.

I don’t tell her I’ve ordered them off. When my message reaches her, she flinches, holding one hand over her falling bra while the other swipes open the message. I chuckle, as her mouth drops open. Then, quicker than a blink she bolts up the remaining steps and into her room.

I don’t have cameras in the occupied rooms, and the thought irritates me. I want to see her. Or, at this point,needto see her.

I’m going to have Finn come get you.

I tap Luka’s pen against my desk, text Licon he can resume his job, and answer an email, but she still doesn’t respond.

I’m half temped to drive home when her message pops up on the screen.

Summer: What are you feeding me?

It’d be too easy to come back with something to make her blush, but as much as I enjoy toying with her, I opt for answering her question.

Sushi?

Summer: What time is Finn picking me up?

Smiling, I open a message to Finn and tell him to pick Summer upASAP.

5 minutes.

She gives a thumbs-up to my message, and I toss my phone to the side, pulling up the menu for Zen Sushi Bar down the street. I have no idea what she’ll like, so I place an order for every roll on the menu plus a large order of edamame.

I lose myself in emails, which surprisingly come easier to answer now that the weird brick sitting on my chest has been demolished.

Another ding comes through on my phone, but this time it’s a photo message, and I can’t help but burst out laughing when I open it.

Finn is standing in the driveway next to his car. His hand is lifted out in front of him like he’s trying to block the view of his face from Summer’s camera. Her message beneath the photo reads,let it be known, Grandma Finn was ten minutes late.

I rub my forehead with two fingers. This woman is something else.

The sushi is delivered shortly after her photo, and I spread the rolls out over my desk before heading to the bar to fill two glasses of water. Should I set up the food in the dining area? Probably. But I don’t for two reasons. First, I want Summer all to myself, and I know with Cormac and Lizzy apt to come in soon, they’d try to join in. And second, I have a healthy fear of our chef here. Knowing she’ll arrive to prep for dinner any minute, well, the office it is. Wouldn’t want her to see the sushi and quit on me. Not that I’d allow that.

The door to the pub groans open, Finn holding the brassy handle for Summer as she goes on and on about how everyone knows the yellow light means to speed up, not slow down. Finn grumbles something inaudible, shaking his head. Then he checks in with Callum with a handshake.

Summer, finally, looks sidelong in my direction, and though she’s dressed in high-waisted leggings and a cranberry-colored racerback under an annoying black zip-up pulled halfway down, all I can think about is that black lace bra. She changed.

I eye her white sneakers. “Planning on a run?”