Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
BARRETT
T his is going to work. It has to.
Drew’s hypothetical brought home just how important tonight is in a visceral way.
I’m not going to Wren’s wedding. Not ever.
Not unless I’m the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle.
I have a plan, a back-up plan, and emergency protocols in place. And since we’re going out in a new city, we won’t run into anyone we know from home. The other nurses and their partners are planning to stick close to the bed-and-breakfast, tour the working farm and 150-acre property with the owners of the retreat center, or head back to the conference building for the free movie night. Wren and I will be able to focus on each other and the do-over without worrying what anyone else thinks about us being out on a date.
In Bad Dog, you can’t walk half a city block without tripping over one of my siblings, cousins, or close family friends. And Wren has her friends, Starling, and her mother, who comes into town at least a few times a week.
But here in Excelsior, we can be two anonymous people.
An anonymous couple…
The thought makes my gaze shift sharply to the back door of the bed-and-breakfast.
Still no sign of Wren.
At this rate, if I’ve worn the wrong thing, I won’t have time to run back to the room and change or we’ll be late for our dinner reservation. I’m beginning to second-guess changing while she was still at the conference center—maybe I should have asked her what to wear, instead of pretending I have anything close to fashion sense—when she steps through the door, and I forget how to breathe.
Her long hair is loose around her shoulders, hanging in glossy waves nearly to hear waist. She’s wearing black, knee-high boots, a tight green dress that skims her curves, and long, sparkly earrings that catch the evening light and bring out the gold flecks in her green eyes.
She looks beautiful and so sexy I can’t believe I ever thought of her as a wallflower. She’s not a wallflower. She’s the main event, center stage, no spotlight needed because why would anyone want to look at anything but her?
“Hey,” she says, exhaling a rush of breath as she crosses the empty back parking lot. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I couldn’t decide what to wear. I didn’t pack any going out clothes. This was the closest I could get.”
“It’s perfect,” I say. “You look…perfect.”
Her lips twitch into a quick smile that vanishes almost instantly. “No, you look perfect. Black button up and dark blue jeans is perfect.” She runs a nervous hand down her waist to her hip, making me ache to do the same. “This is too dressy. I should change. Give me five minutes, I promise I won’t make us late.”
She starts to back away, but I reach out and take her hand, holding tight. “No.”
She blinks up at me. “No?”
“No.” I pull her slowly closer, closer, until she’s in my arms and everything is right with the world. “You know how I feel about honesty.”
“It’s basically your religion,” she says, her lips parted as she tips her chin up, holding my gaze.
I incline my head. “So, when I say you look perfect, I mean it.”
Her throat works as she swallows. “Okay. Then I guess I’ll believe you.”
“Good,” I say, nodding toward the truck. “Shall we? Our dinner reservation is in ten minutes.”
She nods and her lips curve. “Sure. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I say, twining my fingers through hers as we cross the parking lot. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll like it. It’s one of your favorite kind of foods.”
She arches a brow. “Yeah? Did you ask Tatum about my favorite kinds of food?”
“No, I spent three months stalking your social media, educating myself on all the things I missed.”
Her expression softens and her eyes begin to shine. “Really?”
“I hope that’s not creepy.” I stop beside the passenger’s door, really hoping I haven’t fucked this up before we even get off the property. But I was being honest, like Starling said. Maybe I just need to add more kindness. “I just wanted to make things right with you, to give you the attention you’ve always deserved. I wasn’t trying to be intrusive.”
She shakes her head with a little sniff. “No, it’s… That’s… That’s good to know. I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
“Never,” I promise, meaning it more than I’ve meant anything in a long time. “No matter what.”
She pulls in a breath and nods. “Okay. Then let’s go. Hopefully my social media feed hasn’t led you astray.”
Eight minutes later, we pull up to a tiny Italian restaurant with a red awning and an outdoor garden filled with tables at the end of Excelsior’s Main Street. Wren claps, sending joy and relief surging through my bloodstream. “Oh, it’s so cute! And Northern Italian is my favorite.” She leans over, pressing a kiss to my cheek before she whispers, “You done good, mister.”
I turn, my heart skipping a beat as the heat from her lips warms mine. “Is it wrong that I think about kissing you almost all the time?” I ask, deciding to keep leaning into this whole honesty and kindness thing.
“No, it’s perfect,” she says, pressing a soft, almost innocent kiss to my lips that nevertheless leaves me hard and dying to be inside her. “Now, let’s go eat.” She chuckles softly. “Once you get that under control.”
“It’s your fault,” I say, adjusting yet another embarrassing hard-on. “This is what you do to me.”
“I love that I do that to you,” she says, her eyes flashing as she slips out the passenger’s side. “And I want to do it to you again later. Maybe several times.”
“This isn’t helping,” I breathe.
She smiles, a dazzling grin that makes me fall a little more in love with her on the spot. “I’m not on helper duty tonight, doctor. I’m here to seduce you with my feminine wiles.”
“You’re doing a great job so far. Ten out of ten. Would submit myself to said wiles again and again.”
“Perfect.” She giggles and slams the door. After a beat, I manage to arrange myself in a more discreet fashion and exit the truck behind her.
I give my name at the host stand and an older woman in a starched white button-down and black pants shows us through the garden to a small patio at the very back with a rock wall fountain on one side. It’s surrounded by carefully trimmed potted trees and the most private table in the restaurant.
“I think this is what you were hoping for?” the woman asks, smiling at me as I pull Wren’s seat out for her.
“It’s perfect,” I say, discreetly pressing a twenty into her hand. “I appreciate it.”
“And we appreciate you choosing Maria’s,” she says, backing away. “The menus are on the table, and I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your drink orders.”
“Barrett,” Wren says, leaning in with wide eyes as I settle into the seat across from hers. “How did you pull this off in a few hours?”
“I made a few phone calls,” I say. “And was assertive about asking for a good table.”
“No, I don’t mean the table,” she says. “I mean, the table is amazing, but I meant this.” She holds up the menu, pointing to the top, where it reads, “For Barrett and Wren, a Special Do-Over Menu.”
I smile. “You like?”
“I love. It’s beautiful.” She glances back at the menu, smoothing a gentle hand down the page of thick paper. “Am I cheesy if I take it with me and save it in my scrapbook?”
“Am I cheesy if I do the same and I don’t even have a scrapbook?”
“Not at all.” She grins, a warmth in her eyes that makes me hope the rest of the night goes as well as the first few minutes.
This is all I want. To make her feel special and happy and safe to let down her guard with me again.
And this time, I won’t ever make her regret it.
We share a salad and grilled octopus as an appetizer, Wren gets the gnocchi for her entrée and I go with the balsamic grilled chicken, and we share a bowl of assorted gelato for dessert. The entire meal, the conversation flows as easily as it used to during our daily teatime. We chat about what we’re looking forward to at the conference, Christian and Starling’s meme war— apparently, he’s meme-ing her now and she isn’t pleased about it—and the chances that Keanu Reeves might be a lab experiment gone wrong.
“Or gone right,” she counters around a bit of raspberry gelato. “He may have strange claws for a dog and bionic jumping abilities, but he also has a sweet little heart. He clearly adores you. As soon as he heard us fighting this morning, he was on his way to the rescue, possum tail at attention.”
“His rescue skills need work,” I say, explaining that he promptly peed on my shoes as soon as he reached the bathroom. “But I agree. His heart is in the right place. And if anyone understands the normalcy learning curve, it’s me.”
Wren’s smile fades. “Can I ask you a question? Kind of a personal one?”
I set down my gelato spoon and wipe my hands on my napkin, bracing myself for the worst. “Shoot.”
Her lips twitch. “You aren’t actually facing a firing squad. It’s just a question, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You have the right to say no and set boundaries about how much you’re willing to share. I won’t be mad.”
“Shoot, woman,” I repeat. “Before I change my mind.”
She exhales a slightly nervous laugh. “Okay. I was just wondering. My mom and I were chatting today, and she said something that made me think. About you. And I just, I wonder if you ever feel like you’re on the outside looking in.”
After a beat, I nod. “Yes. I would say so.”
“But you have such a big warm family,” she says. “And tons of friends.”
“I don’t have tons of friends,” I say, finding it strangely easy to be honest with her, even about something like this. “I have professional connections, colleagues, and a few friends from high school who invite me to play hockey sometimes, but that’s it. And with my family, I’ve always been…different. The quiet one. The careful one. The one more naturally inclined to be suspicious and grouchy.”
“I’ve always been the quiet, careful one, too,” she says, holding my gaze with a soft, relaxed honesty that makes me think we’re getting to that vulnerable place Christian mentioned in his text. “I think maybe we have more in common than we’ve realized in the past. I also miss things sometimes. I’m so busy trying to accomplish my goals and give everyone what they need before they need it that sometimes I can’t see the forest for the trees. I didn’t realize until yesterday, for example, that Starling has a thing for your brother.”
“Matty?” My brows shoot up. “She really shouldn’t. Matty is a solid guy but he’s not ready to settle down. Not even close. He’s thinking about selling his house, living in a van, and spending the rest of his twenties driving through South America. He’s probably going to get kidnapped by a drug lord somewhere along the way and we’ll never see him again. I’d hate for Starling to be along for that ride.”
She smiles. “No, not Matty. Christian. But thanks for the warning.”
I scowl. “But she loathes Christian.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s just upset that he still sees her as a kid when she wants him to see her as a woman.” She arches a pointed brow my way. “I know the feeling. So, I really should have realized what was happening a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry you felt that way,” I say. “But I didn’t think of you as a kid. Not really. Especially not at work. I’ve always been well aware that you’re the glue holding everything together. I just felt…protective outside of work.” My lips twist in a wry smile as I realize just how right she is. “I worried that you didn’t seem to fit in as easily as I might have hoped. That you were the one on the outside looking in.”
“Aw,” she says, her eyes shining again, but a happy shine this time. “You worried I didn’t have enough friends?”
“No. I just knew you were a little different, but in a good way. It confused me that other people didn’t see what I saw.”
“And what’s that?” she murmurs.
Ignoring my racing heart, I take the biggest risk yet. “That you’re the most amazing, kind, intelligent, capable woman I’ve met. No one compares. They don’t even come close.”
Her eyes go wide and for a second I think she’s going to tell me it was too much, too close, too vulnerable too fast. But then her lip trembles and her breath hitches and she bursts into tears, crying so hard the waiter bearing the check takes one look at us and quickly reverses direction, heading back toward the restaurant.
Well, fuck.