“Hey, Reagan?”
I screamed at the sound of August’s voice and jumped about a mile in the air. Outside the door, Hunter sat at attention and stared around, looking for danger.
“The doorbell records video and audio when it senses movement.” August was definitely laughing at me. “Charlie and I just thought we should let you know that we’re a sure thing. We’re putting out.”
I covered my face in my hands and groaned. “That was a private conversation between me and Hunter.”
“Ignore his pouting. He’s fine outside.”
“Just fine? He really wants to come inside with me. He’s giving me eyes.” I reached out to scratch his ears and smiled when his tongue fell out again. “Is there a big, serious reason for him not coming in?”
August sighed. “He’s a guard dog.”
“Not a very good one.”
“I’m aware.” August grunted and then gave a command in another language that had Hunter scrambling to get inside, panting happily. “Happy?”
I stepped out of the house to spot the camera and smile into it. “Yes! Thank you very much.”
He swore. “You’re lucky you’re fucking beautiful. And tolerable.”
Charlie raised his voice in the background. “Want to just cut August out and come over to my house?”
I bit my lip. “Do you have a dog named Hunter?”
“I have a cat named Jeremy.”
Hunter barked once from inside and I shook my head at the camera. “Sorry. Hunter says no. Bye-bye, now. I have a dog to spoil.”
“That’s not what you’re supposed to be—” August cut himself off. “Fuck it. His treats are in the cabinet above the fridge.”