Sally's POV
"Absolutely not," I snap, planting my feet firmly in the center of the living room while four impossibly stubborn men stare me down. "I'm visiting my sister, not storming a battlefield. It's literally a five-minute drive down the street."
Karl's jaw sets in that way that means he's done negotiating. "Not a chance."
"Sally," Philip says, his voice deceptively gentle as he reaches for his jacket, "anything could happen. A twisted ankle, an unexpected visitor..."
"What's next, worried about killer butterflies?" I throw back, exasperation bleeding into every word. "You can't shadow my every move forever."
Sean glances up from where he's been quietly observing, one eyebrow arching. "Watch us."
My hands fly up in defeat. "Do you understand how completely insane this looks? Juliette's going to walk in and wonder why there's a small army camped out in my living room like some kind of..."
"Pack?" Philip supplies, smirking like he's just made the world's cleverest joke.
