Page 33 of Crew Girl

Another giggle. “Yes. We grew up together.”

Oh, please no. “Were you more than friends?”

“No,” her mom said in a way that sounded true, but also wistful. “No. Hey, let’s get you home and into a bath. I’ve got these amazing Epsom salts with tea tree oil and lavender.”

Teagan was considering sliding down the banister to get downstairs when she heard her mom humming. This was new. Well, since they’d moved to Eagle’s Cove anyway.

She went down the normal way, her thigh muscles aching, and found her mom pinning pictures to a huge corkboard.

“What’s this?”

“My mood board for the birthday party I’m throwing. I still can’t believe I’m an event planner.”

Teagan couldn’t really either, but nor had she thought she’d be the first one ringing the bell at the Iron Crucible. She took in the pictures her mom had pinned. “Impressive. Are you sure you’ve got this?”

Ella gave her a surprised look. “I’ve thrown loads of parties for your father. And at the hotels. I’m pretty sure I can handle a teenage athlete’s birthday.”

True. She had thrown a lot of parties but never in an official role. Teagan had always taken it for granted. It was cool seeing her mom getting paid for something she loved doing.

The doorbell rang.

Teagan, in her jammies, froze.

“It’s my client.” Ella went into a panic, smoothing her dress and checking her hair in the hall mirror. She went to the door and threw Teagan a pleading look before she opened it. “Please, pretend you respect me?”

“I’m all good karma today, Mom.”

Her mom opened the door. A woman was standing there and next to her, of all the people in all of Eagle’s Cove, was Josh Regis.

JOSH

Watching Teagan squirm in discomfort was much more fun than he’d thought it would be.

His mom was in the next room wittering away about his birthday party to Ella, Teagan’s mom—aka the party planner.

He settled back into the couch and spread his arms wide. She squished herself as far from him as possible, waiting for the inevitable.

He took his time, smiling amicably as he waited for the perfect verbal missile to come to him. The Regis gene pool, as ever, delivered. “I’m digging the funeral parlor vibes.”

“It was my grandparents’ house,” Teagan said through gritted teeth.

He smiled the smile of a man who knew he had a large arsenal at his disposal. “Do they haunt the place? Or is it just the curtains?”

“Josh?” Ella called, sticking her head around the corner. “What kind of cake were you thinking?”

He shot her his best charm school smile. “Anything but cupcakes, please.”

“Smart man.” She beamed at him.

He beamed back. She was lapping it up. His choirboy act. He was great with moms. He was great with everyone. Nervous as hell about meeting his grandfather later, but ever since his lips had touched that first silver spoon, he’d been primed for it. The moment when his grandfather openly acknowledged what the entire Regis family knew. Josh was heir to the throne. For now, he was enjoying sharpening his verbal knives on Coxie. “Your mom likes me.”

“She also likes Phil Collins and pastels,” Teagan said in an equally sugary-sweet voice. “It’s a low bar.”

Josh’s phone pinged. He glanced at the message.

“Britney?” Teagan sing-songed.

“Crew stuff.”