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The two of them were too far across the yard for us to hear their discussion, but we could hear their laughter, which erupted every few minutes, slowing their progress.
Alex smiled softly at the pair, always looking happier around my sister than any other time I saw him. And it was that same happiness that I felt reflected in my face when I looked at Wren that had me voicing the question I’d wondered about for months. A question that had been on the forefront of my mind these last few weeks, which felt closer to years. “How did you know Ames was it for you?”
I didn’t ask out of doubt. I knew Wren was it for me, just like I knew Ames was for Alex. What I wondered was how he so easily arrived at the knowledge that Ames was the one for him, after speaking with her once, while it took me months of pushing Wren away before I accepted she belonged with me.
“After my parents died, myabuela- grandmother,” he translated for me quickly, lips quirking as I rolled my eyes.
“I took enough Spanish in high school to recognize the word forgrandmother, Alex.”
He only shrugged as he continued, “My abuela raised me. She used to always say I was a serious child, barely smiling, even before my parents died. And that only continued as I got older. I stayed serious, sharp. I didn’t have a lot of friends until Dev, and then I made my name in this business being analytical, cold. I was willing to break laws, bend my ethics, do things a normal person would find distasteful.
“So when I was offered a job to watch a woman, to make sure she was appropriate for a senator’s son, I took it without question. Getting on a senator’s good side was worth whatever it would take, and honestly, I didn’t expect it to take much. She was just a normal person, nothing like the criminals and ruthless businessmen I worked with every day.
“It was easy to find out where she spent most of her time, to set up the opportunity to bump into her. And then I spent months after that watching her, trying to convince myself that I was only keeping track of her for the job I was hired to do. But even after I submitted my report to the asshole,” he scowled slightly at the nickname he’d taken to calling Peter by, “I kept watching her.”
“Not for the job.”
“Not for the job,” he confirmed. “Usually, after a job I’d have Dev sneak back in and remove the equipment to be reused, but I just…left it. Dev would ask and I’d find excuses to keep the cameras in her apartment. I saw that house for sale and bought it, convincing myself it wasn’t for her even as I put flowers in the front mulch beds and bought her favorite shampoo to stock in the bathroom. I sent her that first gift, telling myself it was just to cheer her up. And then I finally met her again, in person, heard her say my name, and decided that she was mine. She’dbeenmine. From that first moment at the coffee shop.”
“So that was it? Love at first sight?” Even I heard the suspicion in my voice. The concept felt too shallow for what I knew existed between Alex and my sister.
“No,” Alex shook his head. “It wasn’t at first sight. I saw her picture when I did my initial research. I thought she was beautiful, of course. But looking at her wasn’t what had me falling for her. It was that first interaction, when she called me out on my surprise when she returned the money. When she flirted with me and blushed as she ordered her usual for me before running away.
“I got my coffee, not expecting to enjoy the sweet drink - Ames had been right, I usually drank my coffee black - but I loved it. And as I replayed the interaction between us as I walked out of the coffee shop, I realized I was smiling.”
He paused for a moment, lips tipped up at the memory, before continuing, “I tried to deny it later; telling myself I was just caught off guard by her boldness. But I was secretly happy when the asshole and his father insisted on cameras in her apartment a week later, because that gave me an opportunity to see her again, even if it was through a computer screen.”
Chapter22
Bex
The nightbefore Halloween I surprised Wren with tickets to an adults-only movie night in a local cemetery. They did it each year, clearing out a space in the cemetery, far enough not to desecrate any burial spaces but close enough to provide the spooky atmosphere they were aiming for, and set up a giant projector. They played popular horror movies, though they changed each year, and allowed movie-goers to bring blankets, drinks, and food to enjoy during the movie.
Wren, of course, packed an entire picnic, complete with a charcuterie board, wine, popcorn, candy, and half a dozen warm blankets she struggled to drag down the hill into the cemetery.
“Do you need help, lovely?” I called on a laugh, watching her struggle to lift the giant bag over her shoulder to better support the weight of various thick, fuzzy blankets she felt necessary to bring.
“I’m a strong, independent woman, Bex,” she reminded me with a huff, giving up on lifting the bag and instead dragging it across the ground until we reached the edge of the audience.
We were almost late, thanks to the giant picnic bag full of food and the tote full of blankets, which meant the closest spots to the screen were already taken. The crowd thinned out toward the edges, couples and groups of friends giving each other more space the further they got from the screen. The sun was just beginning to set, the first movie scheduled to start as soon as darkness fell.
Under Wren’s direction, I laid out a couple blankets while she unpacked the food, and we ate as we watched the sunset in the distance. The projector flickered to life, showing ads from the companies who sponsored the event. By the time the title of the first movie popped up on the screen, night had fallen.
Wren cuddled up to my side, offering me popcorn and candy as the movie progressed and spending most of her time with her eyes squeezed shut or pressed into my shoulder to avoid the scariest parts. Before the movie was halfway over, Wren had crawled into my lap, hiding behind the arm I had wrapped around her. She probably only absorbed twenty percent of the movie plot, but every time I asked if she wanted to go home, she insisted she wasn’t scared.
The heat of Wren in my lap coupled with the taste of her fear on my tongue made me antsy, memories of trying to scare my little bird away tightening my chest. Weeks ago, it was me imbuing this fear in her, not a horror movie. I was the monster in so much of her story, and the thought of it grated on me. The memories made me want her, feel the proof of her being mine, so that I could calm the itch that had started under my skin.
I skimmed my fingers across her chest, running a thumb over her nipple and pretending I didn’t notice the hitch in her breath at the movement. I tucked my fingers underneath the blanket draped across our laps, pulling the fabric up to Wren’s waist to keep her covered while allowing myself more access.
My palm laid on her thigh for a few minutes, my thumb rubbing back and forth across the fabric of her jeans in a casual movement. It didn’t take long for Wren to squirm in my lap, grinding her ass against me and wiggling her leg in a less-than-subtle attempt to get my hand closer to her center.
“Did you need something, lovely?” I whispered against her ear, keeping my voice casual, even as I allowed my fingers to fall a couple inches closer to where she kept trying to lead me.
“No-nothing,” she stuttered, straightening her shoulders as she attempted to keep her eyes on the movie in front of her. But that didn’t last long, her body relaxing into mine as my other hand joined the first, resting on the opposite leg.
I wrapped my fingers around each thigh, spreading Wren in such a sudden movement that she let out a quiet gasp of surprise. Her calves rested on the outside of my knees, leaving her open to my ministrations.
No longer interested in teasing, I reached my hand to the button of her jeans, popping the button and unzipping the pants so there was enough room for my fingers to slip underneath. I slipped my fingers between her jeans and her underwear, biting back a groan at how wet she already was, the material of her underwear already soaked.
