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Chapter Six
Wren
I wish I was still with Sam, lying in his bed, nestled in his arms. The feeling of him kissing the top of my head and petting my hair as I cozied up to him resulted in the most life-giving sleep I’ve ever had.
Sitting in this courtroom, enduring another day of testimony, I have to bite back a smirk when I remember this morning.
I woke up just like I fell asleep—warm and surrounded by Sam. It was perfection.
Which was rudely interrupted by Officer Max knocking on the door.
“Time to go. Shuttle is downstairs. Be ready in ten minutes.”
I shot up in bed and shook Sam by the shoulder. “Sam, time to wake up.”
Should be no surprise he sleeps like the dead.
He made a weird grunting noise and opened one eye. “Good morning, darlin’.”
“Did you not hear Max knocking on the door? We gotta go.”
“Not before I have my good morning kiss,” he said and pulled me down so I was face to face with him. Our lips met again. The kiss was warm and sweet, slightly longer than the one we shared last night. His soft mustache tickled me.
“Thank you for helping me get to sleep,” I said.
He petted my hair. “Thank you for the best night’s sleep ever. And for the nicest wake up.” Another peck on the forehead.
“We make a pretty good team,” I said.
“Not a very good team for getting ready on time, but a very good team for lounging.” My heart noticed his sexy morning voice.
“Lounging is better. Getting ready is overrated.” I hunkered back down in his arms and thrilled at the feel of his hands skimming over my back.
Maybe his half-awake state was to blame when he drawled out, “Once I’m retired, we can lie in bed all day.”
I swallowed. That there was future talk. Sam’s body seemed to freeze right then too, as if we’d both caught the meaning of what he just said.
“Right. Well. Better get up, I guess, before we’re in contempt of court.” His tone turned abruptly to all-business. But we both knew what he’d just said.
And now here I sit in this cold, imposing courtroom, and shit is really starting to get real.
All morning we listen to more witness testimony about this couple’s marriage, and it’s nothing but misery. The arguments that spilled into the street. Testimony from police who were called to investigate domestic disputes. The defense tries to build a case that the husband had been abusive, thereby allowing us to believe she had acted in self defense.
But despite everything we hear, I don't see any signs of physical or emotional abuse. All I see is an unhappy marriage.
And then my eyes start to leak.
Sam is making me fall for him. And if we fall for each other, where will we land? Would we end up like the Jacobsens? Would I slowly learn to resent him over the years. Would I become unable to sleep because he doesn’t touch me anymore, resulting in a sleeping pill habit and memory loss? Would I kill him in my sleep?
A tissue appears before me and I take it, looking up to see Sam casting his eyes at me reassuringly. I take it and blink at his rugged, calming face. He slowly, deliberately blinks back, communicating all the things he has no words for.
I dab at my eyes and my nose.
This one simple gesture gives me the boost I need to keep listening to the rest of the day’s testimony—forensic experts and the medical examiner—which, thank goodness, is the last of it.
By the end of the day, all of us are drained.
So when the shuttle arrives back at the hotel and Officer Max takes us up to the hospitality suite en mass, I’m a little bit irritated at first. All I want to do is stuff my face and go to bed.
