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I stared at that series of notifications for a little too long as I tried to figure out what he was up to. When I couldn’t, I set my phone down and told myself everything was fine. Theo was a grown man perfectly capable of being alone in a house for a few hours. There was no reason to be concerned.

The next set of notifications had me pinching the bridge of my nose. The outdoor speakers turned on, and then their volume increased to their maximum capacity—loud enough to be heard down the beach—before going right back down to zero.

Immediately after that, the patio awning extended to its fullest, then retracted only to extend partway. He left it like that.

Apparently, leaving Theo unsupervised in a smart house was like handing a child a control panel and walking away. I tried to focus on the work in front of me—I really did—but that didn’t last long. I made it through half a page before my phone vibrated all over again.

I steeled myself as I flipped through the series of notifications. The living room blinds were opened, followed by the bedroom blinds and the kitchen shades. Less than a minute later, every fucking blind in the house closed at once.

I put my pen down as I reread every notification. There was absolutely no practical reason for that sequence of events. Before I could begin to contemplate what the hell was going on in my house, another notification appeared.

This time, the temperature in my house increased by four degrees… and then back down seven.

“No,” I muttered. I kept my house at a very specific temperature. There was no reason to change it.

Another notification popped up before I could unlock my phone. The living room lights had switched to some preset I’d forgotten existed—something called disco nightlife. What the hell was that?

No. That was enough. Whatever Theo was doing, he’d clearly entered the I wonder what this button does stage of being left alone in my house. I unlocked my phone to call him. Work could wait. My boyfriend needed adult supervision.

“Stop touching buttons,” I said when he answered, my voice a little grumpier than I meant.

“I plead the fifth,” Theo replied instantly.

“That only works if you’re on trial,” I retorted. “And you’re not. Just stop touching all the buttons in my house. And put my temperature back where I had it.”

“How do you know what I’m doing? Are you watching me? That’s kind of hot.”

“I’m not watching you.” Though I kind of wished I was. Theo, with his push-the-button chaos, was far more interesting than the papers on my desk. I could picture the delighted expression on his face as he figured out what each button did—an image that instantly made me smile, even though I didn’t want him messing with every button.

“But what if I was naked?”

“Theo,” I groaned and ran a hand over my face. I did not need to be picturing him wandering around naked, especially not here. Especially not when I had several hours of work ahead of me and no way to do anything about it.

Unfortunately, telling myself not to picture something had never once prevented my mind from doing so. It left me sitting in my office, imagining Theo making himself entirely too comfortable in my house, naked and shameless, while he systematically discovered every feature I’d installed.

Goddamn brat.

And he knew exactly what he was doing. That was the worst part. I could practically hear the grin in his voice as he did it.

“I swear, if we didn’t have the rehearsal dinner tonight, I’d punish you for being a brat,” I told him.

“You could punish me on a yacht,” Theo offered. “Honestly, that sounds like a bucket list item.”

I shut my eyes for a second, immediately regretting the mental image he’d so casually tossed out there. And of course, he sounded entirely too pleased with himself. He’d figured out exactly how far he could push me before I reacted, and lately, testing that boundary seemed to be one of his favorite hobbies.

“I told Sariah I’d behave,” I said.

“You say that like Sariah has any faith in your ability to behave,” he replied. I’d told him a few too many stories about her.

“She specifically threatened me.”

“That sounds like encouragement—”

“It wasn’t,” I cut him off. His laughter came softly through the phone, and I found myself smiling despite every attempt to remain irritated. That was becoming a problem. It was remarkably difficult to maintain any authority over him when he knew I secretly enjoyed every second of his bullshit.

“Yeah, but I didn’t tell her I would,” he replied. “And as you always say, words are everything. Which means you have to behave, but I don’t have to.”

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. This man was going to be the death of me.