“There’s obviously been some kind of mistake,” Ian said, clearly making an effort to keep the situation calm. “Officer, we haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong! You just thought you could get away with it again, huh?” the man said. “Well, this time we caught you, and we have the video surveillance. I hope you like jail, because we are most definitely pressing charges.”

Jail? Charges? Video? A frigid blast of fear went straight through her, and she pulled the blanket tighter around her bare shoulders. “What’s going on, Ian?”

“No fucking clue,” he grumbled. “Stay behind me.”

The man let out a sharp, crowing laugh. “You finally got caught—that’s what’s going on.”

The deputy who barely looked like he could grow a full mustache kept his hand loosely on his holstered service weapon and turned his attention to Ian and Shelby. “Mr. and Mrs. Morgan received a silent-alarm call prior to the storm. Once the storm had passed, they contacted the sheriff’s department and requested assistance.”

“Listen to you,” Mrs. Morgan said, turning to the deputy with a proud smile. “You sound just like a real law-enforcement officer.”

“Mom,” the deputy said with a sigh. “I’ve been on the force for eight months now.”

“And we couldn’t be prouder of our baby boy.” She clapped, making the charms on her bracelet rattle. “Look at you making your first arrest. Your father wanted to call the sheriff himself, but I told him no, this could make Alan’s career. You’ve arrested the cabin bandits!”

“Arrest?” Shelby nearly jumped up but then remembered that one, she had no clothes on and two, that might not be the best idea when facing a fresh-behind-the-ears deputy with his hand on his gun. “Who’s getting arrested? And who are you? What is going on?”

“Like you don’t know,” Mr. Morgan said, chest puffing out. “Sure, the first time we thought maybe we were mistaken, the second time the upstairs beds had definitely been slept in, and the third time half the groceries were gone and liquor cabinet emptied. That’s when I added the bear.”

He pointed to a stuffed bear set on the bookshelves under the staircase. It looked like a normal bear, but judging by the absolute glee in Mr. Morgan’s eyes, it was not. Nanny cam. Had to be. And it was pointed so it would catch everything from the front door to the fireplace to the couch.

Her stomach dropped way past her toes down to the core of the earth.

Oh. My. God.

She had a sex tape. Embarrassment burned her cheeks. Beside her, Ian stiffened, every muscle in his back tensing and his jaw going so square as he clamped his teeth together that someone could probably use it to measure a ninety-degree angle.