In the Crease
Page 35
Jensen loved holding Wren.
She smelled like a mix of pineapples and tacos, or maybe that was just her meal, he wasn’t sure, but he loved looking into her beautiful green gaze. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, and her eyes were wide, full of complete wonder. If she thought he was going to be like those other guys she dated, she had another thing coming. He had waited for the moment when he would get to have her, and now that he did, she wasn’t going anywhere without a fight.
“Do you understand me, Wren?”
Slowly, she nodded, her eyes holding his. “I do.”
He could see the hesitation in her eyes. “But you don’t believe me?”
“I’m trying,” she admitted, a grimace on her face, and he scoffed.
“You’re going to give me a run for my money, aren’t you?”
“I told you I’m not easy.”
“You did,” he said before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes fell shut first, and he loved how perfect she looked when he kissed her. Her lashes were long, her nose fit into the crook beside his, and he could spend the rest of his days kissing her and die a damn happy man. Tasting her was his first mistake, because now he wouldn’t be able to let her go. Ever. He’d take a bullet, he’d lay his life down for her in a second.
And while he knew she might not do the same, right now, he didn’t care.
He loved her. Passionately.
Pulling back, he dropped his hands from her face as her lips stayed parted and her eyes shut. If he didn’t get away, he’d take her right there in the booth; he knew that to be true. Getting up, he headed back to his side, taking his fork in hand as he sat. When he looked across the table, her lips were still parted. “You okay there?”
“You weren’t kidding about being a better kisser.”
He snickered as he nodded. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a smile before reaching for her fork.
“Well, good to know,” he said, resting on his elbows.
Recovering slightly, she leaned against the table. “No one has ever talked to me like that.”
“Good. I like being the first.” They shared a sweet smile before she went back to inhaling her food. “So, let me ask you something. Are we good with the agreement on the baby?”
She looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Like you won’t renege on that, right? You’ll let me be the father if for some far-off chance we don’t work out?”
“If that is what you want.”
“It is.”
“Then, of course. I promise.”
Swallowing hard, he asked, “And the biological dad, he won’t try anything?”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “I called him today, actually.”
His heart stopped as he met her gaze. “Oh? I didn’t know you still talked to him. Or knew him.”
“Wow, thanks,” she said dryly, and he smiled an apology. “He’s still a big fucking douche, and yes, my child will only know you as his father until he is old enough for us to tell him otherwise.”
Jensen nodded. “And you’re fine with that?”
She nodded. “In a way. I mean, I would have asked for you, Vaughn, and Wells to be in my son’s life anyway. To guide him, y’know? We’re all so tight-knit.”
“Yeah, but he’ll be mine.”
“I know,” she said, but he still could see the hesitation in her eyes.
“Okay.” Jensen looked away, biting his lip. “I heard about what he had said to you.”
“Oh?”
“About you not being trophy wife material.”
“Brie can’t keep her mouth shut, I swear. Yeah, he’s a douche.”
“Well, I think you’re trophy wife material.”
She looked up, a grin on her face as she sputtered with laughter. “It seriously is okay. It didn’t bother me.”
She was lying, and he knew it. “Okay. I’m not saying it to make you feel better. I’m telling you the truth.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I’d take you over my Cup any day.”
Her lips curved more, her whole face rising in the motion of that gorgeous smile. “Liar.”
“Nope. Truth.”
Shaking her head, she waggled her fork at him. “You’d better stop. You’ll have me thinking you really have feelings for me.”
He shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Um, because it isn’t true.”
“Who said it isn’t true?”
Her brows touched as she held his gaze. “What are you saying?”
Swallowing hard, Jensen put down his fork and laced his fingers together. “Wren, surely you know?”
She shook her head. “Know what?”
“That—” He stopped himself. He didn’t want to tell her over tacos. If she truly didn’t know, then he needed to find the perfect time. Not now. He met her gaze once more and was a bit frustrated. It pissed him off that this amazing, beautiful, smart girl didn’t know her worth. That she was the light of his life. That he hadn’t started living until she’d asked him to be her fake husband. Swallowing hard, he smiled. “That you mean the world to me.”
“I know that, but as a friend. Not a wife.”
“No, as more.”
She held his gaze. “Well, obviously, since you want to marry me.”
“So you know.”
“I know this is all insane and scary, but I’m in,” she rambled. “I don’t even know how it’s gonna work, but you’re convinced.”
“And you should be too. We know each other inside and out. We’ve fought, we’ve laughed, and everything else—”
“We have never fought.”
“Yes, we did. When I got engaged, you told me not to marry her.”
She thought that over. “I did call you a dumbass, didn’t I?”
“That and some other choice words because you thought it was a horrible idea,” he said dryly, but she hadn’t been the only one. Everyone didn’t like Ophelia and thought he had rushed into it. Maybe he had. To forget the girl across the table.
“It was, and I was obviously right.”
They held each other’s gaze. “Touché.”
She smelled like a mix of pineapples and tacos, or maybe that was just her meal, he wasn’t sure, but he loved looking into her beautiful green gaze. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, and her eyes were wide, full of complete wonder. If she thought he was going to be like those other guys she dated, she had another thing coming. He had waited for the moment when he would get to have her, and now that he did, she wasn’t going anywhere without a fight.
“Do you understand me, Wren?”
Slowly, she nodded, her eyes holding his. “I do.”
He could see the hesitation in her eyes. “But you don’t believe me?”
“I’m trying,” she admitted, a grimace on her face, and he scoffed.
“You’re going to give me a run for my money, aren’t you?”
“I told you I’m not easy.”
“You did,” he said before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes fell shut first, and he loved how perfect she looked when he kissed her. Her lashes were long, her nose fit into the crook beside his, and he could spend the rest of his days kissing her and die a damn happy man. Tasting her was his first mistake, because now he wouldn’t be able to let her go. Ever. He’d take a bullet, he’d lay his life down for her in a second.
And while he knew she might not do the same, right now, he didn’t care.
He loved her. Passionately.
Pulling back, he dropped his hands from her face as her lips stayed parted and her eyes shut. If he didn’t get away, he’d take her right there in the booth; he knew that to be true. Getting up, he headed back to his side, taking his fork in hand as he sat. When he looked across the table, her lips were still parted. “You okay there?”
“You weren’t kidding about being a better kisser.”
He snickered as he nodded. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a smile before reaching for her fork.
“Well, good to know,” he said, resting on his elbows.
Recovering slightly, she leaned against the table. “No one has ever talked to me like that.”
“Good. I like being the first.” They shared a sweet smile before she went back to inhaling her food. “So, let me ask you something. Are we good with the agreement on the baby?”
She looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Like you won’t renege on that, right? You’ll let me be the father if for some far-off chance we don’t work out?”
“If that is what you want.”
“It is.”
“Then, of course. I promise.”
Swallowing hard, he asked, “And the biological dad, he won’t try anything?”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “I called him today, actually.”
His heart stopped as he met her gaze. “Oh? I didn’t know you still talked to him. Or knew him.”
“Wow, thanks,” she said dryly, and he smiled an apology. “He’s still a big fucking douche, and yes, my child will only know you as his father until he is old enough for us to tell him otherwise.”
Jensen nodded. “And you’re fine with that?”
She nodded. “In a way. I mean, I would have asked for you, Vaughn, and Wells to be in my son’s life anyway. To guide him, y’know? We’re all so tight-knit.”
“Yeah, but he’ll be mine.”
“I know,” she said, but he still could see the hesitation in her eyes.
“Okay.” Jensen looked away, biting his lip. “I heard about what he had said to you.”
“Oh?”
“About you not being trophy wife material.”
“Brie can’t keep her mouth shut, I swear. Yeah, he’s a douche.”
“Well, I think you’re trophy wife material.”
She looked up, a grin on her face as she sputtered with laughter. “It seriously is okay. It didn’t bother me.”
She was lying, and he knew it. “Okay. I’m not saying it to make you feel better. I’m telling you the truth.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I’d take you over my Cup any day.”
Her lips curved more, her whole face rising in the motion of that gorgeous smile. “Liar.”
“Nope. Truth.”
Shaking her head, she waggled her fork at him. “You’d better stop. You’ll have me thinking you really have feelings for me.”
He shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Um, because it isn’t true.”
“Who said it isn’t true?”
Her brows touched as she held his gaze. “What are you saying?”
Swallowing hard, Jensen put down his fork and laced his fingers together. “Wren, surely you know?”
She shook her head. “Know what?”
“That—” He stopped himself. He didn’t want to tell her over tacos. If she truly didn’t know, then he needed to find the perfect time. Not now. He met her gaze once more and was a bit frustrated. It pissed him off that this amazing, beautiful, smart girl didn’t know her worth. That she was the light of his life. That he hadn’t started living until she’d asked him to be her fake husband. Swallowing hard, he smiled. “That you mean the world to me.”
“I know that, but as a friend. Not a wife.”
“No, as more.”
She held his gaze. “Well, obviously, since you want to marry me.”
“So you know.”
“I know this is all insane and scary, but I’m in,” she rambled. “I don’t even know how it’s gonna work, but you’re convinced.”
“And you should be too. We know each other inside and out. We’ve fought, we’ve laughed, and everything else—”
“We have never fought.”
“Yes, we did. When I got engaged, you told me not to marry her.”
She thought that over. “I did call you a dumbass, didn’t I?”
“That and some other choice words because you thought it was a horrible idea,” he said dryly, but she hadn’t been the only one. Everyone didn’t like Ophelia and thought he had rushed into it. Maybe he had. To forget the girl across the table.
“It was, and I was obviously right.”
They held each other’s gaze. “Touché.”
