Page 7 of The Best Shot

“I was working.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“In the cold.”

“Tragic.”

“With actual wildlife breathing down my neck.”

She arched a brow. “Did any of that wildlife have claws sharp enough to stop you from typing, ‘Hey, Annie, still breathing, miss your gorgeous face’?”

I closed my mouth.

She looked unbearably smug. “I rest my case.”

I dropped down onto the floor beside her, and nudged her shoulder with my own. “Missed you too, pain in the ass.”

She kept scratching Havoc’s neck like she hadn’t heard me.

“Yeah, well,” she said. “Margaritas on Monday. I expect reparations.”

Ava appeared in the doorway with a dish of whipped feta drowning in honey and chili oil. She set it on the coffee table, looked at me, and pointed. “Eat something.”

And she was gone.

The front door opened and Carter came in. Clean-shaven, low fade, pearl-snap shirt tucked into dark jeans, he looked like a man who could discuss quarterly earnings and cattle prices with equal confidence.

Carter had been Grant’s friend long before he’d become mine. Long before Ava. Long before the rest of us somehow fused into a single overinvolved social unit. These days his arrivals barely registered, just a natural expansion of the room.

Behind him, a woman stepped inside, straight hair cut into a bob at her jaw, pretty brown eyes in a narrow face, taking in the room.

Sophie. Tonight’s candidate.

“I caught her in the driveway before she could escape,” Carter said, setting the bourbon on the counter.

Sophie smiled. “Hi everyone.”

“You made it.” Ava touched Sophie’s arm. “Everyone, this is Sophie.”

A chorus of hellos moved through the room.

“I’m Yasmine,” I said.

“The photographer,” Sophie said, brightening. “Ava said you just got back from Patagonia.”

“Couple hours ago.”

“And she already has you at a dinner party?”

I glanced at Ava. “You see what I deal with.”

Sophie leaned closer. “Blink twice if you need me to create a distraction.”

Okay. She was nice.

Carter spotted Grant through the back window, pointed at the bourbon, said, “Someone put that somewhere good,” and disappeared through the screen door.

Ava handed Sophie a glass of wine and guided her toward the couch. “Sit. You’re safe. Mostly.”