“I think showing up uninvited gives Marchand exactly what he wants.”
Jay tilted his head. “You could at least call. Or text. Plant a seed. Let him know Beckett’s not welcome here.”
Roan’s jaw tightened. “No.”
There was that damn word again.
Jay squinted. “Why the stonewall?”
Roan’s answer came like a slap. Quiet, sharp, undeniable. “Boundaries.”
I barked a short laugh. “You’re kidding.”
He wasn’t.
“I’m not feeding Marchand’s ideas,” Roan said. “Beckett being here might be nothing. A PR favor, a photo op. If I react, it makes itsomething.”
“What if it alreadyissomething?” I shot back. “You know how this works. If Beckett’s sniffing around, Marchand’s got a reason. Wren’s being dragged along for the optics. Again.”
Jay crossed his arms, still cool, but watching Roan carefully now. “You’re not wrong. But Rhett’s not wrong either. This feels off.”
Roan shook his head, stepping back like that would create enough distance to keep everything tidy. “She’s not ours.”
That stung more than it should’ve.
“You think I don’t know that?” I snapped. “You think I’m trying toclaimher?”
Roan didn’t answer, which meant he didn’t believe it either.
I paced a few feet, hands flexing at my sides. “Fine. If you won’t poke the bear, I will.”
Roan’s head snapped toward me. “Rhett?—”
But I was already pulling out my phone.
Jay raised a brow. “What are you doing?”
“Calling in a favor.”
“From who?”
“Sabrina. She’s working press for CBC this week.” I thumbed through my contacts and hit the dial. “Just a little curiosity call.”
Roan looked like he wanted to snatch the phone out of my hand. “Donotstir shit right now?—”
I held up a finger as the call picked up. “Brina.” Her sharp indrawn breath was so audible, I could almostsmellthe arousal. Not possible over the phone. Also, not the point… I didn’t need a hookup. In fact, I definitely didn’twantone withhereither.“Hey, hey, relax—it’s not one of those calls. I just had a quick question. Off the record.”
Jay mouthedoff the record,like that ever meant anything. I ignored him as I waited for Brina to get it together.
“Off the record?” The skeptical note in her voice definitely carried more than a hint of distrust.
“Yep. Off the record. You didn’t hear anything from me and you aren’t getting any quotes either.”
“Uh huh,” she said slowly. “Just a little chat between friends?”
Oh, she was intrigued. “Yep. You got time for me?”
“No time like the present.” Got her.
