Wren blinked, something catching in her breath. Her fingers curled a little tighter around the edge of the throw blanket she hadn’t realized she’d pulled over her lap.
“The captain wants to negotiate?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, and her tone was somewhere between amusement and caution.
Roan didn’t miss a beat. “Not a captain here,” he said, and there was an edge under the words that turned them into something more than just a clarification. “You’re not our PR goddess who takes care of everything, and we’re not the ice jockeys. This isn’t about offense or defense.”
Okay.Okay. I had to give it to the guy. That was a damn strong move. The kind of statement that slowed everything down and made the air feel thick. Wren's mouth parted like she might argue, but instead she blinked once, slowly, and stayed quiet.
“So,” I said, stepping into the silence because someone had to, “are we all negotiating then?”
Roan shot me a look. One ofthoselooks—halfdo not test me, halfyou better follow through now, and somehow also a little bit amused. Encouraging, even.
Fine. I could play serious, too. At least until my brain got steamrolled by the visuals currently setting up camp behind my eyes.
Jay, of course, was the first to speak up.
“Good.” His voice was that calm, anchoring baritone again. The one that let you breathe even when your skin was too tight. “If I call it, I want Wren to let me run her a bath.”
Wren inhaled sharply.
Jay went on, evenly. “You’re trembling. I can see it, and I imagine your legs are cramping. You need heat—not just internal, but real, steady warmth. So that’s what I want if I win.”
Roan didn’t move.
Wren stared at Jay like she couldn’t quite believe him. Not because it was too much.
But because it was…exactly right.
She didn’t say yes. Not yet.
So I stepped up, because how could Inot?
“If I call it,” I said, hearing my voice come out rougher than I meant it to, “I want you to let me feed you.”
Wren’s gaze whipped to me, stunned. Probably because I hadn’t even meant to say it.
“No skin-to-skin,” I added quickly. “Just me… cutting up the fruit. Feeding you pieces. That’s it.”
That wasn’t what I meant to offer.
Not even close.
But apparently itwaswhat I wanted.
She blinked again, a little slower this time. Her lips parted. She looked at me like I’d just handed her a warm coat in a snowstorm.
Then her gaze shifted and landed on Roan.
She swallowed once, then asked, soft but steady, “And you? What do you want?”
Roan looked at her like he saweverything. Not just her flushed skin or trembling limbs. Not just the curve of her mouth or the way her scent was filling every inch of this cabin with honeyed fire and desperation.
But the way she was still holding the line.
Still trying to choose.
He didn’t speak right away. The silence was nearly unbearable.
Then—
