CHAPTER FORTY SIX

I can smell breakfast cooking downstairs, but I don’t want to be around anyone right now. At least, anyone but Nash. And I think I should give him some space right now.

I climb back into bed, burrowing myself in the blankets. I wish I could just go back to sleep and start the day all over again. I would stay in bed with Nash, and never run into Regan, and never decide to confront Nash about her nasty rumors.

I can’t fall back to sleep, though, because raised voices outside catch my attention. The big picture windows in the master bedroom overlook the porch and the beach below, and I can sometimes hear it when people are talking loudly on the deck.

I creep toward the window, curious. It sounds like Nash and another voice. I focus, using my shifter senses and finely attuned hearing.

Nash is arguing with Regan. He must have run into her on his way out for a beach walk.

“What did you tell her?” Nash demands. I peek out the window so I can see them, but they can’t tell that