Emma
Trent’s truck disappeared through the rear gate before Jake finished swearing.
Nash was already moving.
“I’ll follow.”
“I’m coming,” Jake said.
“So am I.”
Both men looked at me.
I crossed my arms. “Don’t.”
Jake’s eyebrows lifted. “Don’t what?”
“Make that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’re about to explain why the little pregnant woman needs to sit quietly somewhere while the men handle things.”
Nash coughed.
It sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Jake shot him a look before turning back to me. “I wasn’t going to say little.”
“Smart.”
“Or quiet.”
“Smarter.”
“But I was going to say you’re not chasing a man we suspect of leaking your location.”
I opened my mouth.
He held up one hand.
“Not ordering. Explaining.”
I hated when he got reasonable.
“Fine. Then what
