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“Mm. I just wanted to let you know before I told Mom. She’s going to be upset.”

Understatement. I’m fairly certain Mom’s been planning their wedding since they were five. Rob lived next door, and his mom is one of her best friends.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can totally come stay with you for the weekend if you want.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ve got work to do this weekend anyway. I’ll keep myself busy.”

I can’t help but think this is going to backfire on her. There’s no way she’s okay right now.

I sigh, knowing better than to push when she’s in full deflection mode. “If you change your mind, just say the word. I mean it.”

“I know. Thanks, Whit.”

We say goodbye, and I sit there for a moment. Harper’s always been the composed one, but I know what it looks like when she’s falling apart. She does it quietly, behind closed doors, with spreadsheets and work emails at two in the morning.

The sliding door opens behind me, and I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Beau.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “Violet said you came in to talk to your sister.”

I set my phone down and turn to face him. “My sister and her fiancé broke up.”

His brows draw together. “Shit. How is she?”

I shrug. “She’s Harper. Says she’s fine, but I know she’s not. Kind of like someone else I know.” I quirk a brow.

A slow, devastating smile spreads across his face before he steps closer and wraps his arms around my waist. “Well, I’m working on it.”

Before I can respond, his mouth brushes mine in a gentle, grounding kiss. I lean into the warmth of his body, letting his presence chase away the worry. His hands settle on my hips, thumbs brushing gentle circles through the fabric of my sundress.

“You’re a good sister,” he murmurs against my temple.

“I just wish she’d let me help more. She’s so…” I trail off, searching for the right word. “Contained.”

“Yeah, well, give her time.”

“Humph.”

Beau eventually pulls back with furrowed brows. “Why was Jake talking about being good in bed?”

A laugh bubbles up from my chest before I can stop it. “He was explaining why he turned down a threesome,” I say, trying to keep my voice light even though I can see the possessive glint in his eyes. “It was actually kind of thoughtful, in an odd Jake way.”

“He doesn’t need to be discussing how good he is in bed in front of you.”

“Oh?” I tilt my head. “Why’s that?”

His eyes darken a shade. There it is. That dominant gleam.

“Because,” he says coolly, “you don’t need the comparison.”

“Beau Sinclair, are you jealous?”

“No.”

I grin up at him, sliding my palms up his chest. “You’re being very caveman right now, sir. You can relax, though. You’re the only one I’m interested in.”

His gaze follows me as I drop from the barstool and move toward the door.

“Good,” he calls after me.