Page 146 of Top Shelf

I like seeing you happy.

Wren’s lips part. Her eyes shimmer beneath the lamplight, and I notice the way she swallows around the ball of emotion in her throat.

Drinking her in, I realize Silas is right. It’s not the dress or makeup or the fact she’s done her hair differently that has Wren looking so breathtaking tonight. It’s the changes we’ve all seen in her over the past few weeks. The way she’s smiling more these days. How she laughs more easily. The fact that she’s finally starting to look like she belongs in her own life.

I grin. “Silas is right. Happy looks good on you.”

She glances at me, trying to be stern and failing miserably, before rolling her eyes instead. “You’re all being ridiculous.”

“No.” I step closer, letting my gaze drag over her because I’m weak and also because she deserves to know exactly what she does to me. “Ridiculous would be me telling Ronan to cancel this whole thing so I can take you back upstairs and peel that dress off with my teeth.”

Her entire face goes pink.

Ronan sighs. “We haven’t even left yet.”

I flick my gaze to his. “Then everyone should be impressed by my restraint.”

Wren presses her lips together, clearly fighting a smile. “I’ve never known Lucian Caulfield to have restraint.”

I scoff. “I’m practically a saint.”

Silas snorts quietly.

Knowing there is only so much I can take, and I’m reaching my limit, I move to open the limo door for her with an exaggerated flourish. We need to get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and follow through on my threat. “After you.”

She pauses beside me before climbing in, close enough that her perfume curls around me.

Vanilla. A hint of citrus.

Perfectly Wren.

My fingers itch to touch her. I catch her wrist lightly, just for a second. Her pulse jumps beneath my thumb. Her eyes lift to mine.

“You really do look beautiful,” I say, quieter this time.

Something flickers across her face, vulnerable enough to make my ribs ache.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Then she climbs into the limo, and I have to stand there for a second because I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe.

Inside, Wren settles between Ronan and Silas, which is fucking criminal because I should absolutely be beside her, but fine. Whatever. I sit across from her, which at least gives me the view.

A dangerous one.

The limo pulls away from the curb, gliding through Valehurst toward whatever political circus Ronan’s mother has dragged us into tonight.

Wren smooths her hands over her dress, nervous.

Ronan notices immediately. “You okay?”

She nods. “I’m fine.”

“Liar,” I call her out.

Her eyes snap to mine, that sexy as sin fire alight within them. “Excuse me?”

“You do this thing with your hands when you’re nervous.” I gesture toward her lap. “Like you’re trying to iron yourself flat.”

Herfingers still.