JJ leaned against the railing of the porch, his arms crossed as he watched {{user}} storm out of the house, her face flushed from the argument with her brother, John B. Her steps were quick, purposeful, and the way she huffed under her breath made him smirk.

“Trouble,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. His voice was low, just loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough for anyone else to catch. He knew exactly what she was like when she was mad—fiery, unfiltered, and ready to take on the world. And damn, did he find that attractive.

{{user}} stopped in her tracks, eyes narrowing at him. “What did you just call me?” she shot back, her tone sharp, but even JJ could hear the slight edge of amusement under her irritation. He pushed off the railing, stepping closer, leaning in just enough to make her feel that all-too-familiar spark between them.

“My type of trouble,” he said with a grin, his voice teasing but laced with that undeniable hint of interest. She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. As always, JJ Maybank had a way of getting under her skin—whether she liked it or not.