Page 210 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

He takes in the room with one glance?—

The counter.

The chaos.

The men half-sprawled like theyown the place.

Then, that dry, knowing smirk.

“Let me guess. Walt’s calling dibs on pastries. Jeb’s contemplating murdering the espresso machine. Gabe’s silently plotting something that’s going to ruin Ally’s night, and Ethan’s pretending he doesn’t have to babysit you all.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

Blake snorts. “Jesus. You think you have us figured out?”

Rigel shrugs. “You’re not that complicated.”

And somehow, that lands harder than any insult could’ve. The team bursts into laughter—the kind that says he’s one of us now.

And just like that, the space shifts again.

Settles.

Finds its balance, even with all of them here.

But then—I feel it.

That weight. That pull.

A look. A claim.

I glance up just in time to catch Gabe pulling Hank aside, his posture deceptively loose, like he’s just making conversation. But his eyes—sharp, cutting—are locked on me.

They speak in low tones just out of earshot.

But I feel every second of it like a touch I haven’t earned yet.

Hank listens, arms crossed over that broad chest, his jaw tight. One muscle flexing. Containing something.

Gabe says something else—short, decisive.

And then they both look at me.

Not casually. Not coincidentally.

Intentionally.

Gabe’s gaze rakes down my body like he’s already deciding what he’s going to do with it.

Hank’s is colder. More restrained.

But no less possessive.

Heat curls low in my belly, dark and heavy.

I shift in place, trying to pretend I don’t feel it.

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