It started with a water leak. It spiraled into spy-level chaos.
In my defense, I wasn’t trying to spy on Owen. I was just curious about the handsome, tool-belt-wearing guy with the easy smile and perfectly scruffy face who moved into the townhome next door. But then a water line breaks, the wall between my kitchen and Owen’s gets taken down, and suddenly I’m experiencing next-door-neighboring at an alarmingly close range.
I spend my days behind a computer screen helping intelligence operatives navigate dangerous missions. My nights? Between Owen’s historical theater restoration, his investor (whom I’m convinced is shady), and my unfortunate inability to act cool around Owen, things are getting complicated.
But even though romance isn’t part of my mission briefing, Owen keeps making me wonder if maybe I could be seen and safe at the same time.
Am I falling for my neighbor? Possibly.
Initiate emotional containment protocol.
Or bring cookies. Either works.
Storymakers
