Josh
Watching Teagan squirm in discomfort was much more fun than he’d thought it would be.
His mom was in the next room wittering away about his birthday party to Ella, Teagan’s mom—aka the party planner.
He settled back into the couch and spread his arms wide. She squished herself as far from him as possible, waiting for the inevitable.
He took his time, smiling amicably as he waited for the perfect verbal missile to come to him. The Regis gene pool, as ever, delivered. “I’m digging the funeral parlor vibes.”
“It was my grandparents’ house,” Teagan said through gritted teeth.
He smiled the smile of a man who knew he had a large arsenal at his disposal. “Do they haunt the place? Or is it just the curtains?”
“Josh?” Ella called, sticking her head around the corner. “What kind of cake were you thinking?”
He shot her his best charm school smile. “Anything but cupcakes, please.”
“Smart man.” She beamed at him.
He beamed back. She was lapping it up. His choirboy act.
He was great with moms. He was great with everyone.
Nervous as hell about meeting his grandfather later, but ever since his lips had touched that first silver spoon, he’d been primed for it.
The moment when his grandfather openly acknowledged what the entire Regis family knew.
Josh was heir to the throne. For now, he was enjoying sharpening his verbal knives on Coxie. “Your mom likes me.”
“She also likes Phil Collins and pastels,” Teagan said in an equally sugary-sweet voice. “It’s a low bar.”
Josh’s phone pinged. He glanced at the message.
“Britney?” Teagan sing-songed.
“Crew stuff.”
She grabbed her phone and checked it. “I didn’t get one.”
He waited for the penny to drop.
And… ping! Her eyes blazed with indignation. He hadn’t noticed the little gold flecks in them before.
“There’s another group text for the crew?”
“You’re the other group text, Coxie.” He laughed the laugh of a victor. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
Her hands flexed like a cat preparing her claws for battle. He already had a split lip thanks to Ryder. He was carrying it off with panache, obvs. But having his eyes scratched out lacked appeal. Heaven, as ever, intervened.
“Josh, honey.” His mom and Ella came into the room. He stood up, because that’s what polite young men did when women came into the room. “I was just asking Ella about the dinner with your grandfather.”
“I’m sure you’ll love it,” Ella said. “I’ve booked a restaurant run by a friend of mine who was just awarded her first Michelin star.”
“It sounds amazing, Ms. Emerson. And may I say”—he shot a glance at Teagan before delivering his next line—“you have a beautiful home.”
As the door closed behind him and his mom, he heard Ella sigh, “What a well-mannered young man.”
As he climbed into the Range Rover he heard Teagan’s scream.
Josh Regis shoots? He scores. As ever. He was feeling it now. Pumped, primed, and ready for their next stop: Regis Airlines HQ.