He went still and did that puzzled-looking thing again, like she was someone he only vaguely remembered and he was trying to summon the relevant details.

4. That Sawyer Collins was looking at her like he didn’t remember that she had let him into her heart. Into her body.

“Thanks for your help.” The thanks felt strange in her mouth now that she was Angry Eve, but her priority was to get rid of him. “I’ll take it from here.”

“You’re three stories up.”

“And I’d like to be three stories down. But for that, I need a ladder.”

He leaned the ladder against the edge of the building.

Finally.

But then he stepped onto the first rung.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me. I need to come down. I don’t need company up here.”

“You’re three stories up,” he said again.

“As has been well established.”

“I’m coming up to help you down.”

“I don’t need your help.” The protest was automatic, and its petulant tone made her wince.

5. That she sounded like a child. Which suggested he was getting to her, and that was not what she wanted to communicate.

She was still getting used to this anger thing. She tried again. “Your assistance is not required. You’re dismissed.” There, that was better. Icier.

He kept coming.

“What are you going to do?” she sniped. “It’s not like you can carry me down.”

“No.” He reached the top, and he stopped with his head above the roof, the rest of his body still on the ladder.

6. That his beard was not gross.

“But I can stick close to you, and we can make our way down together.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Crap. There was the petulance again. She cleared her throat and made a conscious effort to speak in a lower register. “So, what? If I fall, I take you down with me?”

That didn’t seem like a bad idea, actually.

He shot her a look she couldn’t interpret other than to note that it didn’t look casual. At least she’d finally inspired something other than mild curiosity. “Something like that.” He made an impatient come-here sort of gesture. When she didn’t move, he said, “Evie Abbott, get your ass on this ladder.”

She got her ass on the ladder, because she really didn’t have a choice. But she did snap, “Don’t call me Evie.”

7. That Sawyer Collins looked at her ass all the way down—she could feel it—and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

What she could do was use her feet. The moment they hit the ground, she stepped away from him.

“How long are you, ah, in town?” he asked.