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In the Crease

Page 43

   


Shaking his head, Jensen leaned into the bar. “And I respect that, but we are good. I can promise you that.”
“She’s using you.”
“She isn’t, okay? We made a baby—”
“Dude, I know the baby isn’t yours. Stop with that.”
Exhaling hard, Jensen counted to ten before he opened his eyes. He thought it would be harder for him emotionally to claim Wren’s child, but it wasn’t. In his mind, the kid was his, and that’s the way it was. He really didn’t like how Wells was acting, and he’d be damned if he was going to allow Wren’s brother to treat his wife like shit. “Let me ask you something.”
“What?”
“Do you truly love and care for me?”
“You know I do. That’s why I—”
“Then let it go.”
“But—”
“Wells, really, let it go. This is between me and Wren. This isn’t your business, and if you want us at your wedding, you’ll stop this right now. We’ll come, but I swear I’ll give you a black eye if you keep going at her like this.”
“You have to understand why I’m so upset. She’s going to break your heart, man.”
“Again, that’s my problem, not yours. I know who I married. I know Wren, okay? Let me do this. Let us do this. Okay? It’s none of your concern.”
“Yes, it is, because I love you both.”
“Then, dude, just love us. Don’t put stress on her, on us. Just let us be.”
Wells exhaled hard as the silence stretched between them. “I can’t sit back and let this happen. It’s gonna end badly, and then the baby will be lost in the mix.”
“Don’t you worry about my son in that context, brother. No matter what happens between Wren and me, our son will always be loved by both of us, and we will always get along for him.”
“She’s spiteful—”
“She’s perfect. You’re too hard on her, and don’t talk about her like that,” he said firmly, his heart pounding in his throat. He wasn’t sure if he was overstepping. Wren was Wells’s sister, but he’d be damned if he was going to allow Wells to stress her out.
“Dude, you’re already so far gone, you don’t see the end.”
“You’re right. I only see the rest of my life with her.”
“Damn it, Jensen. Come on.”
“Wells, really. We’re happy.”
“It’s a sham.”
“It’s not. We are really doing this, and we’d like your support.”
“Damn it,” he moaned, and Jensen knew he was pacing around his house. He always paced when he got mad or annoyed. “You’re killing me.”
“Regardless, will you support us?”
He hesitated, but he blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah,” was all he said before he hung up, and Jensen wanted to scream. He respected Wells, loved him, but there were enough variables, all a result of Wren Lemiere, that were against them. He didn’t need Wells, or anyone else, messing with them. Her hesitation, her insecurities could end them. He knew that, but he was going to do everything to help her through that. He had her now; he couldn’t lose her. He loved her too much to allow that to happen. He knew he may very well be out of his mind, but if God had given him this golden opportunity, he did it for a reason.
And that reason was that Jensen had an abundance of love to give.
For Wren and the unnamed child she was carrying.
Even if she didn’t want his love.
Pushing off the bar, he headed toward the bedroom, but when he turned the corner, Wren was standing there.
Surprised, he glared playfully. “Stalker.”
She smiled. “Guilty as charged.”
He moved past her toward the bed, plugging his phone in again before getting in as she slowly approached the bed. She was wearing a pair of sweat pants and a tee that barely covered her belly. He did his best not to drink in her thick thighs or even her thick ass even though they both were covered, but he failed miserably as she got into the bed, exhaling softly.
“Thanks for that. I know it’s hard lying to him.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine. He won’t talk to you like that.”
Leaning back into the pillows, she looked over at him. “He’s usually not that bad. But when it comes to you and Vaughn, I don’t matter.”
Jensen shook his head as a rebuff. “That’s not true. He loves you very much. I know that for a fact.”
“But he loves you guys more, and it’s fine. Whatever.”
But Jensen shook his head. “It isn’t whatever, Wren. You shouldn’t be talked to like that, and he loves you. More than anyone, I know, he talked about you all the time when we used to go out. You’re his world.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
“He’s just trying to protect us.” She nibbled her lip as she looked down at her hands. “What?”
When she glanced up at him, her eyes were full of tears that he reacted to before he allowed her to speak. Gathering her in his arms, he pressed her body into his as he held her tight against him. She fit against him like a glove, her legs falling right along his, her center pressed into his thighs as her belly laid along his groin.
Don’t get a hard-on, don’t get a hard-on.
And God, she smelled like heaven.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered through tight lips.
“I hate fighting with him. He’s such a tool, thinking he’s right and shit.”
“I know, I’m sorry. But he’ll stop, I promise.”
She shook in his arms as her own came around him. “He said I’m using you. You don’t think that, do you?”
Shaking his head against her, he dusted her forehead with kisses. “Of course I don’t think that, Wren. I would never assume you could do that to anyone.”
She nodded against his lips as she held him closer, her tears wetting his chest. “I couldn’t, but especially not to you.”
“I know that.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, now, shh. Calm down, it’s fine.”
She nodded once more as her nose nuzzled his chest, and his eyes fell shut. Her hair was tangled around his fingers, and he swore she wasn’t wearing a bra through that thin tee, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t ready for him. Though, he was very, very ready for her. It was pure torture to hold her and not strip her bare to taste every single inch of her.