Page 103

Before I can demand answers, she picks up her phone and hits a button. The dial tone rings clear through the speakerphone. A growl slips through my teeth, frustrated she took my words literally about waiting until I got here. It’s not what I meant, and she knows it.

“Rosy. How’re you doing?”

My brows pull low in confusion. What the fuck was Bry talking about a plan? And what would involve the detective?

“Hi, Logan, I’m doing okay. Sorry to ask. I know you’re busy, but I was wondering if you have any news or progress?” she asks tentatively, some of her fire waning. It’s not a dominant trait of hers, but fuck if I don’t love the moments she lets it out.

Logan sighs. “Not so much. We’re following up on some avenues and still going through some of the company’s records to see what we can trace. We checked the letter, and it was clean. It wasn’t posted from a local address either.”

Rosy’s shoulders drop slightly, and she looks up at me, teeth worrying her lip. When she inhales sharply and pulls her shoulder back, mine immediately fill with tension.

What are you up to, little tease?

“What if…if you used me as bait?” she rushes out the last part quickly.

I growl.

What. The. Fuck.

“No.” I snap, needing to shut down whatever shit this idea is. It’s not fucking happening.

“I can’t stand waiting around anymore. This constant fear is eating me alive, and I can’t forget what happened to me because I’m terrified it might happen again or to someone else. So if I can help and…I don’t know, lure him out maybe? Then I need to do it.” Rosy says.

My fists clench, and I take a step forward. Her broken, pleading eyes flick up to catch mine, and the fire and earnestness in them freeze me in place. I’m ready to demand or beg her not to. Whatever the fuck it takes.

“Look, I’m not going to rule things out. But until we’ve exhausted all options, you don’t need to do that.” Logan says.

Rosy’s shoulders round, and she curls in on herself. I’m not sure she realises she’s only nodding at Logan, that he can’t hear her response, so I take the phone from her.

“Call when you know more,” I grunt, somewhat appreciative that he didn’t agree to my girl putting herself in danger like that. I end the call and toss her phone onto the sofa cushions.

Rosy’s hands fist in her lap, and my gut twists watching her struggle. Fuck, I don’t want her feeling the stuff she confessed to him. But I can’t watch her risk danger. It’s just not fucking happening. She can’t ask me to do that.

Leaning down, I put my shoulder in her lap, slide my hands under her thighs, and lift. She squeals my name as I stand with her hanging across my shoulder. Her arms wiggle free and hang down my back, the tiny fists I taught her to punch with hitting my lower back.

I stomp down the hallway to my bedroom and push through the door, catching sight of the little beast sprawled across the windowsill bed I installed. Air exhales loudly from Rosy’s body when I drop her onto the mattress.

“Um…” Bry says, hovering in the doorway, fidgeting indecisively.

“In,” I tell him.

I look back to Rosy. Some of the sadness has left, replaced with that fire that suits her.

She glares up at me. “You can’t just⁠—”

“Kiss her,” I tell Bry.

Her mouth pops open, and she looks from me to him.

He hesitates for a moment, then kneels on the bed and hovers above her. “Can I?”

Always so fucking polite. Not sure why he needs to ask when her face softened and heated when she heard what I told him to do. She’s got it bad for him, and as much as I still dislike that I have to share, I see her look at me like that too. It helps abate the jealous need in me when it comes to the guys. The rest of the world, however, isn’t allowed to touch one single fucking hair on her.

Her tongue peeks out and swipes over her lip. “Yes,” she agrees readily.

My greedy girl.

Bry descends on her with a muffled groan. Their mouths meet and collide with each other. I watch for a moment, testing to see what it does to me. There’s jealousy, and a small part of me wants to knock him away and growl that she’s mine, but the larger part is more jealous because I want her too. Not that I don’t want her to want him.