“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like anything.”
“I pulled her info.”
That did it.
Regan took one step closer, her voice dropping into that dangerous quiet men underestimated right before regretting it. “I said don’t.”
“Regan—”
“You don’t get to do that to people I bring in.”
“I do when they’re sleeping under the same roof as club women.”
“She’s not here to hurt anybody.”
“You don’t know that.”
“What kind of woman walks out of a random bar with people she doesn’t know?” I asked.
Regan didn’t blink. “Desperate.”
The answer hit too clean.
I hated that.
She leaned closer. “Back off, Mase. You know what it’s like to hit bottom. She needed somewhere to land for the night. That’s it.”
“She could still be trouble.”
“She’s not.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
Regan looked past me toward the house. Her voice softened, but the steel stayed. “Because trouble usually tries harder to look harmless. She doesn’t. She looks like she’s one wrong word from grabbing that demon cat and running.”
I didn’t have a clean answer for that.
“She’s harmless,” Regan added. “Except for the cat.”
I glanced toward the door. Something moved inside. Maybe nothing. Maybe a reflection. Maybe Sienna.
Regan caught the direction of my attention and narrowed her eyes. “Do not make her feel unwelcome.”
“She shouldn’t get too comfortable.”
“Why?”
Because she’s leaving. Because women who make a man wonder don’t stick. Because I still had Rylee’s diamond flashing behind my eyes and Sienna’s laugh under my skin, and I didn’t trust either one.
I said none of that.
“Because she’s not ours,” I muttered.
