Page 88 of Believe it or Knot

I asked you to do your fucking job and set up an interview for us.

So please fucking do it.

I’m breathing heavily by the time I finish, chest heaving, because I never—and I mean never—speak to anyone who works for me like that. Or anyone, for that matter. But Joey’s attitude toward Sorrel has been pissing me off since the beginning.

It’s clear he doesn’t like or trust her… which I find beyond bizarre, because she’s possibly the most likable, sweetest person I’ve ever met. Ever.

But it’s not his job to monitor my personal relationships.

“Everything okay?” Gray asks from the other side of the island, eyeing me warily, and I realize my scent is giving away my agitation, and likely our bond too.

I take a deep breath and release it. “Yeah, it’s fine. Joey’s just pissing me off.”

Rafe presses into my back, his arms wrapping around me as he kisses my neck. “What’d he do?”

Wordlessly, I show him. A low, displeased growl falls from his lips. “Asshole.”

I nod my agreement, then explain to our prime. “He’s suggesting Sorrel leaked where we’d be for dinner, and questioning whether we want to announce her joining our pack while reiterating that he doesn’t trust her.”

Gray’s frown deepens. “We need to figure out who that was.”

Rafe kisses the back of my head and then sighs. “Yeah, and someone leaked a picture of her from our fucking parking garage.”

“What?” The question is so sharp and so full of rage that I think it must have been Gray that asked it, but he’s looking at me with just as much shock, so it must have been me. I clear my throat. “Sorry. I mean, what are you talking about?”

“Poppy found an article with pictures from outside the car when we arrived on Monday and from inside the parking garage. Jones told me last night, and I didn’t want to ruin the evening, so I didn’t tell either of you.” Gray growls. Rafe sighs. “Don’t do that, man. I didn’t want to freak Sorrel out. I planned on telling you when we got back here, but then…”

But then our psycho drug addict ex tracked us down because someone leaked our location and attacked our beta.

“It has to be someone on our team or someone with access to the penthouse,” Gray muses, turning to grab a cutting board.

“I trust everyone on our security team,” Rafe says instantly. “We’ve worked with most of them for years.”

He’s not wrong. Almost everyone on our security team—hell, everyone who works for us—has been loyal. We’ve never had someone who works for us leak our location or any personal information. Sure, we’ve had fans who recognize me snap a photo and post it to their social media, which has given it away. But this is different.

The only new factor is Sorrel.

And we all know she wouldn’t do this.

Or at least, I hope we all know she wouldn’t do this. But the furrow in Gray’s brow and his uneasiness tells me that maybe he’s not as sure of her as I am. Even though he’s the one who asked her to join our pack.

Shit.

Is he regretting it now? He didn’t know about the photo from our garage when he posed the question. She would have had access to the security system yesterday. The door to it is just down the hall from my recording studio. She disappeared for a while there… Maybe…

I shake my head.

“Poppy’s looking into it.” I don’t phrase it as a question, it’s a statement, because that is what we pay her for. Cyber security. If someone hacked into our system and stole that photo, she’ll be the one to figure it out.

Rafe hums his agreement.

“Looking into what?” Sorrel’s sweet voice says as she pads into the room wearing her silky sleep shorts and my t-shirt. I fucking love the sight of it. “And who’s Poppy?” There’s a hint of… is that jealousy in her voice? At the mere mention of another woman, too.

Gray chuckles. “Jealous, sweet thing? Even after the three of us fucked you and filled you with our cum?”

Sorrel’s brows narrow as she shakes her head, but her cheeks flush, and none of us misses the way she shifts, rubbing her thighs together. “I’m not jealous,” she states blandly. “I’m curious.”

“Mm-hmm, sure,” Gray saunters over to her, looking fine as hell in only low slung navy pajama bottoms, all those muscles of his on display. “I totally believe you.” Sorrel’s scowl deepens, but he ignores it as he bends and kisses her. Her folded arms drop, hands digging into his waist as he cups her jaw to tilt her head the way he wants it, deepening the kiss.

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