Brap-rap-rap-rap. Lane screamed and jerked around to find a face staring at her through the window of the back door. It took her several breaths to realize it was a familiar face—one that made her heart skip and gave her inexplicable reassurance. Charlie.

Lane unlocked the door and opened it. “You nearly gave me a heart—”

“Are you and Noah okay?” Charlie’s chest heaved. His chest. Bare chest. Muscles flexing with each shallow breath. “Lane?”

Oh my, she was staring. But how could she not? A half-naked man—never mind that he was attractive—was standing in her home . . . with a gun. A gun. “What are you doing with that?” she hissed, taking a step toward him to block the weapon from Noah’s line of sight.

“I heard the alarm.” Charlie looked around, his eyes searching. “I ran over.”

He ran over? For her? Lane’s heart jackhammered beneath her ribs and it wasn’t from the chaos of the morning. “I, uh. It’s okay. The alarm is spazzing out. Ms. B—”

“Is here, dear.”

Lane jumped. Ms. Byrdie was standing behind her, keys in hand and an impish smile playing on her lips as her eyes bounced between Charlie and Lane.

“This isn’t . . .” Lane looked down at her pajamas covered with tiny T. rexes eating donuts before turning to Charlie for help, but the shadowed expression he wore a second ago had relaxed into a playful smirk. His gun was no longer visible. “He was just . . .” It was now Lane’s gaze passing between Charlie and Ms. Byrdie. It was as if the two shared a secret . . . “Y’all really need to stop popping up behind me. Especially with this alarm going off.”

Ms. Byrdie cast one more conspiratorial look in Charlie’s direction before moving past them to the wall panel. She punched in the code, but it didn’t silence the alarm. She tried again to no avail.

“Maybe it’s the wiring.” Ms. Byrdie pulled out her cell phone. “Lane, why don’t you go show Charlie where the old electrical box is.”

Lane hesitated. She peeked across the room and saw Noah with his head still covered, only now instead of rolling on the ground he was walking around with his arms stretched out in front of him like a mummy. She rolled her eyes.

“Hurry, Lane, or you’re going to have the whole town here, and Joe hasn’t delivered the coffee beans yet.”

Charlie stepped aside and waited for her to lead the way. Outside, the short, high-pitched wail of the alarm ripped into the peaceful morning. Lane walked gingerly across the gravel to the other side of the house. “I’m sorry the noise woke you up.”

“I was up. Getting ready for a run.”

“You run with your gun?” Lane stole a glance at his body, wondering where he kept it. “Seems dangerous.”