Page 18 of Code Name: Harbor

“Yes, we did,” Marcus cuts in over her.

Marcus nods at Josie on the way out. She saw him on the boat, but they never said anything to each other.

Before they step through the door, Connie levels a look back at me that’s both angry and hurt at the same time. I’m not sure what it means, but I don’t have time to unpack it.

I turn to Josie as the door closes and clasp my hands. “So, you show up unannounced to a man’s house, it’s got to mean something, right?”

I get another blush, but she tips her head. “First, I want to thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful and well, completely unexpected. It was very kind of you to send them.”

“I wasn’t sending them to be kind,” I say, and her eyes flare. “I sent them to let you know I was interested in you.”

“Oh, well… I see. I mean, there’s kindness and there’s interest, and I get there’s a difference, but… not to say you can’t be kind and interested at the same time. There are people who are very good at both, and I’m guessing you’re one of them, and…” Her words trail off and she gives me a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I’m not usually like this.”

She’s fucking adorable.

“Long day?” I hazard a guess.

“You have no idea.”

I stare at her a long moment. “Tell you what… come have a drink with me and we’ll talk. I know you’re here for more than just thanking me about the flowers.”

Relief wells in her eyes and her smile is completely disarming. “That sounds nice.”

Josie follows me to the bar, her head swiveling as she takes in the grandeur of my home. I’ve lived here for seven years and I’m trying to see what she sees through wondrous eyes.

The western wall of windows with leaded glass diamonds, the sliding glass doors that open an entire wall up to the outside, blanketed by yellow brocade drapery. She takes in the crystal and brass chandelier I bought at an auction two years ago, the Gothic-arched limestone hearth and the Regency armchairs in striped silk.

But it’s the view beyond the glass doors that has her inhaling sharply. It’s not just the patio and stone balustrade that has her attention but the Puget Sound orange from the last rays of sun as a ferry chugs from Bainbridge. And beyond the water, the Olympic Peninsula already purple in the dying light.

“What would you like to drink?” I ask.

She jolts and looks back at me. “Um… whatever you’re having.”

“Lagavulin?” I ask, holding up the bottle. Scotch isn’t for everyone.

“That’s fine. Just a small one though.”

I get a fresh tumbler since Connie drained my other and pour barely an inch in another for Josie. I hand it over and then tap my glass to hers. “Here’s to not getting killed by crazy Russians.”

Josie actually laughs and hoists the crystal. “I’ll drink to that.”

She sniffs the liquor, takes a delicate sip and rolls it around before swallowing. “Oh, that’s really good. Thank you.”

Color me impressed. A woman who truly likes scotch.

“Come outside. I have the heaters on.”

There’s another gasp of pleasure when she steps outside, the biting chill hitting us followed by warmth as we settle into the same chairs I’d just been sitting in minutes ago with Marcus and Connie.

Josie stares out over the water a moment before turning back to me. “Why did you pull me out of the water?”

Why does everyone want to know my intentions?

“It was the right thing to do,” I offer.

“Right,” she says, as if she was expecting me to say that. She bobs her head. “I think you’re a good man, Finn Marlowe.”

I frown at her. “I like to think I am.”