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Shoes were the next choice. Her infrequently worn heels waited near the door—patient soldiers she hadn’t called to duty in months, maybe longer. Secretly, she hoped she could still walk in them.
She leaned toward the mirror to check her eyeliner, smiling at the stranger she half recognized.
And then, three sharp knocks.
When she opened the door, her mouth curved downward. Of course.
Mason Stark filled the frame, wind-tossed and grinning, his laptop under one arm.
“Amy, you won’t believe what we caught last night,” he said, stepping in before she could stop him.
She moved instinctively to block his path. “Not a good time, Mason.”
“I’ll just take a minute,” he promised, already scanning the space.
Amy’s instincts flared. Don’t let him in here. Her cottage was her refuge, her home.
“Let’s talk on the porch,” she said lightly, holding the door open behind him.
He followed her out, laptop balanced in his hands, words spilling faster than she could track. “We picked up a new EVP—clear as day—and the shadow anomaly we saw outside the other night? It keeps reappearing. Last night, we’re sure it appeared inside the house. These are solid recordings, Amy. Shannon’s thrilled—we’ve got a ton of footage to work with for our feature clips.”
“That’s… good,” she said, glancing at her watch.
He didn’t notice. His voice climbed with excitement that bordered on agitation. “I want you to see the raw footage before we send it off for editing. Monday afternoon? I’ll bring the full setup.”
“Monday works,” she said automatically. “Maybe Kaitlin and Kelsey can come by. I’d like their take on it, too.”
“Sure,” Mason said, though his enthusiasm cooled a notch. “But I think you’ll want a private look first.” His gaze lingered a heartbeat too long, his smile just shy of genuine.
Amy forced a steady smile, the kind professionals used to close a meeting. “We’ll see what you’ve got tomorrow. I have plans tonight.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glint of sun on metal as Sully’s truck wound up the drive. Her pulse jumped.
Mason was still talking, pacing the porch boards like a lecturer on too much caffeine. She bent to slip on her heels, balancing on the edge of the step.
When Sully’s engine died, the air shifted.
Mason stopped mid-sentence as Sully’s boots hit the gravel.
“Sully,” Amy said, relieved. “Hi. You’re early.”
“Evening,” Sully said. His easy tone was edged with curiosity as he stepped up. “Didn’t know you had company.”
Mason straightened and threw his shoulders back. “Just sharing updates. Exciting footage.”
“Guess the ghosts aren’t camera-shy.” Sully’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Not at all,” Mason replied smoothly. “You should stop by and see what the cameras picked up.”
“No thanks,” Sully stated. “Not interested in the theatrics.”
Amy stepped between them, keys in hand. “If we want dinner before the rush hits the marina, we should get going.”
“Of course,” Mason said quickly. He slung his laptop under one arm. “See you tomorrow, Amy.” The tomorrow lingered a little too long on his tongue, too familiar.
Sully said nothing until Mason disappeared through the trees. The salt air filled the quiet between them.
“He and his bunch still staying in the other cottage?” Sully asked finally.
