Nevertheless, her mother had done a beautiful job, and Wren sort of wished she had given her mom a chance to plan her wedding. But the thought made her laugh. She didn’t even want a wedding six months ago. She had just wanted a husband, but she got more than that.
She got her future.
Pulling out her phone from her handy pocket, probably the best thing about the suit, she clicked Jensen’s name.
Wren: We should plan a wedding when Gunner gets here.
Jensen: I’m sorry, who is this? It says this text is from my hot-ass wife, but my hot-ass wife doesn’t do weddings.
She laughed, the room filling with the sound, and she almost didn’t believe it.
Wren: Right? I must be drunk.
Jensen: Or you have a sugar high since I found your empty bag of miniature Snickers.
Wren: Those were my mom’s.
Jensen: That you ate, in the bath.
Wren: I have no clue what you’re talking about.
Jensen: Sure you don’t.
When she sent him the wacky emoji, he sent back a peach with a hand beside it, which meant he was going to get her ass. Within seconds, she was hot as she giggled and texted him back.
Wren: Promise?
Jensen: Name the place and time.
Wren: Here, now
Jensen: Not fair. I’m unloading packs of glitter with your dad, while your mom yells at us because Vaughn decided to throw some on me and Wells. It’s in my nose and my mouth, Wren. I might kill him today.
Sputtering with laughter, she shook her head.
Wren: Fine, rain check?
Jensen: Yup, like tonight, me and you.
Wren: Sounds like a plan.
Jensen: Agreed.
With a smile that took up most of her face, she tucked her phone into her pocket before opening the box and getting out the three bags of glitter that she needed for the tall vases that were under the W&A. When she dropped one of the bags, she complained to herself, bending down and struggling to get back up, but her grin stayed in place.
Jensen drove her absolutely wild.
Before she could get to the center table, she heard, “Well, well, there you are.”
She froze, his voice crawling down her spine as she looked down the aisle before Bradley started up it. He hadn’t changed. Still so big, taking up the room, but she did notice he had put on some weight. His face was a little thicker than she recalled. Once upon a time, she remembered getting that fluttery feeling for him, but she felt nothing now. Not even anger. She just didn’t want to see him. He was nothing to her.
“You’re a hard one to get ahold of Wren.”
She was holding her breath, clinging to the packs of glitter as her eyes widened but never left his. “Maybe ’cause I don’t want to be gotten ahold of.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “I figured that. But then, surely that wasn’t the case for the father of that baby inside of you. A boy, I hear.”
“Bradley,” she breathed because she didn’t want him to know that. She didn’t want anything from him.
“Wren, gorgeous as ever.” Coming up to her, he reached for her, but she moved out of his reach. “How’s my guy doing?”
She swallowed hard. “He’s not yours.”
“Oh, he is,” he said, looking up at her. She was disgusted. She’d cared for this fucker at one point, but why? He did look like a douche, an unhappy one. “At least that was the claim before. Were you wrong?”
She stepped back from him. “What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“You said we have nothing to talk about, multiple times, and I think you were right.”
“I think I was wrong.”
Her brows shot up to the damn ceiling. “Excuse me?”
“I was wrong,” he admitted. “We obviously have a lot to talk about since I talked to your husband, Jensen Monroe, and found out a whole bunch of fun stuff.”
Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like the way he said Jensen’s name. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing has changed.”
“Oh, sweetheart, a lot has changed,” he said, his voice deep and sinister. She used to be turned on by his dark parts of his voice, but that wasn’t the case any longer. Now, fear built up inside of her. “I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
“While that is true, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Sure, it does. Because I want to make this work.”
Her brows came together as her face twisted in repulsion. “Now? Out of the blue? Aren’t you married?” she spat back, not believing a single word he was saying.
“I mean seeing you, being near you, is doing things to me, something that Misty doesn’t do.”
She felt filthy, and when he tried to touch her, she moved out of his reach once more. “Don’t touch me. I’m married, and Jensen is way more of a man than you’ll ever be.”
He snorted, his eyes narrowing in a way that had fear settling deep inside of her. “So you have him thinking he’s the father. Jesus, Wren, that is dirty.”
She was shaking. “Jensen knows the truth. He didn’t run, he stood by my side.”
Bradley rolled his eyes. “Ha, no, baby girl, he heard you needed someone to be your baby daddy. And he knows darn well around that inheritance you’ll get for being married and with child. So of course, he’s in. For the money. Don’t be dumb.”
“Oh, fuck off, that’s not true,” she said sternly, shaking her head. She wouldn’t let him get in her head. Try to put that fucking doubt that liked to peek its ugly head into hers. Because even though she didn’t realize it from the beginning, she knew it now. The truth was that Jensen loved her. “He loves me, and I know that.”
“No one loves you, Wren, be real. You know that. You’ve always complained that your family doesn’t pay you any mind. Why do you think that? They use you. Everyone does—for a damn good time. Because they don’t care. But, sweetheart, I care.”
She glared, her chest hurting as she shook her head. “No. The hell you don’t.”
“Yes, and you know it. Look at me. You know I love you, sweetheart.”
As he took another step toward her, she held her hands up. He made the term sweetheart disgusting, and she found herself hating the word. Her stomach hurt, not where her son was, but behind him. It hurt; Bradley was making her ill. “You’re delusional. So I’m going to ask you one more time. What the fuck do you want?”
She got her future.
Pulling out her phone from her handy pocket, probably the best thing about the suit, she clicked Jensen’s name.
Wren: We should plan a wedding when Gunner gets here.
Jensen: I’m sorry, who is this? It says this text is from my hot-ass wife, but my hot-ass wife doesn’t do weddings.
She laughed, the room filling with the sound, and she almost didn’t believe it.
Wren: Right? I must be drunk.
Jensen: Or you have a sugar high since I found your empty bag of miniature Snickers.
Wren: Those were my mom’s.
Jensen: That you ate, in the bath.
Wren: I have no clue what you’re talking about.
Jensen: Sure you don’t.
When she sent him the wacky emoji, he sent back a peach with a hand beside it, which meant he was going to get her ass. Within seconds, she was hot as she giggled and texted him back.
Wren: Promise?
Jensen: Name the place and time.
Wren: Here, now
Jensen: Not fair. I’m unloading packs of glitter with your dad, while your mom yells at us because Vaughn decided to throw some on me and Wells. It’s in my nose and my mouth, Wren. I might kill him today.
Sputtering with laughter, she shook her head.
Wren: Fine, rain check?
Jensen: Yup, like tonight, me and you.
Wren: Sounds like a plan.
Jensen: Agreed.
With a smile that took up most of her face, she tucked her phone into her pocket before opening the box and getting out the three bags of glitter that she needed for the tall vases that were under the W&A. When she dropped one of the bags, she complained to herself, bending down and struggling to get back up, but her grin stayed in place.
Jensen drove her absolutely wild.
Before she could get to the center table, she heard, “Well, well, there you are.”
She froze, his voice crawling down her spine as she looked down the aisle before Bradley started up it. He hadn’t changed. Still so big, taking up the room, but she did notice he had put on some weight. His face was a little thicker than she recalled. Once upon a time, she remembered getting that fluttery feeling for him, but she felt nothing now. Not even anger. She just didn’t want to see him. He was nothing to her.
“You’re a hard one to get ahold of Wren.”
She was holding her breath, clinging to the packs of glitter as her eyes widened but never left his. “Maybe ’cause I don’t want to be gotten ahold of.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “I figured that. But then, surely that wasn’t the case for the father of that baby inside of you. A boy, I hear.”
“Bradley,” she breathed because she didn’t want him to know that. She didn’t want anything from him.
“Wren, gorgeous as ever.” Coming up to her, he reached for her, but she moved out of his reach. “How’s my guy doing?”
She swallowed hard. “He’s not yours.”
“Oh, he is,” he said, looking up at her. She was disgusted. She’d cared for this fucker at one point, but why? He did look like a douche, an unhappy one. “At least that was the claim before. Were you wrong?”
She stepped back from him. “What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“You said we have nothing to talk about, multiple times, and I think you were right.”
“I think I was wrong.”
Her brows shot up to the damn ceiling. “Excuse me?”
“I was wrong,” he admitted. “We obviously have a lot to talk about since I talked to your husband, Jensen Monroe, and found out a whole bunch of fun stuff.”
Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like the way he said Jensen’s name. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing has changed.”
“Oh, sweetheart, a lot has changed,” he said, his voice deep and sinister. She used to be turned on by his dark parts of his voice, but that wasn’t the case any longer. Now, fear built up inside of her. “I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
“While that is true, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Sure, it does. Because I want to make this work.”
Her brows came together as her face twisted in repulsion. “Now? Out of the blue? Aren’t you married?” she spat back, not believing a single word he was saying.
“I mean seeing you, being near you, is doing things to me, something that Misty doesn’t do.”
She felt filthy, and when he tried to touch her, she moved out of his reach once more. “Don’t touch me. I’m married, and Jensen is way more of a man than you’ll ever be.”
He snorted, his eyes narrowing in a way that had fear settling deep inside of her. “So you have him thinking he’s the father. Jesus, Wren, that is dirty.”
She was shaking. “Jensen knows the truth. He didn’t run, he stood by my side.”
Bradley rolled his eyes. “Ha, no, baby girl, he heard you needed someone to be your baby daddy. And he knows darn well around that inheritance you’ll get for being married and with child. So of course, he’s in. For the money. Don’t be dumb.”
“Oh, fuck off, that’s not true,” she said sternly, shaking her head. She wouldn’t let him get in her head. Try to put that fucking doubt that liked to peek its ugly head into hers. Because even though she didn’t realize it from the beginning, she knew it now. The truth was that Jensen loved her. “He loves me, and I know that.”
“No one loves you, Wren, be real. You know that. You’ve always complained that your family doesn’t pay you any mind. Why do you think that? They use you. Everyone does—for a damn good time. Because they don’t care. But, sweetheart, I care.”
She glared, her chest hurting as she shook her head. “No. The hell you don’t.”
“Yes, and you know it. Look at me. You know I love you, sweetheart.”
As he took another step toward her, she held her hands up. He made the term sweetheart disgusting, and she found herself hating the word. Her stomach hurt, not where her son was, but behind him. It hurt; Bradley was making her ill. “You’re delusional. So I’m going to ask you one more time. What the fuck do you want?”
