Her brow lifts.
“Oh, I see? And who decided that?”
“I did.”
The words come out low.
Simple.
Final.
Something flickers in her eyes.
Not resistance.
Not exactly.
But something that says she heard me.
Alex interrupts, which is good and bad. He jogs over then, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Everything’s set,” he says. “They’ve got the tanks stabilized. We’re good.”
“Good,” I nod. “You’ll bunk with their guys tonight.”
He blinks. “Uh—yeah. Sure.”
I hold his gaze just long enough to make it clear.
Not a suggestion. Because him sharing the cabin with us—that’s just not happening.
He nods again, quicker this time. “Got it.”
Good.
Because there’s no world where I’ve got anyone anywhere near Esme tonight.
No one but me.
It’s not even a question.
I turn back to Esme.
“Cabins are this way once we’re done,” I tell her.
She nods, sliding out of the truck, her hair catching the light, her shirt shifting just enough to remind me exactly what’s underneath.
Fuck.
My jaw tightens.
Focus.
We get through the rest of the unload clean.
Quick. Efficient.
Baron’s crew knows what they’re doing, and Alex holds his own like I knew he would.
