chapter thirty-six
Wren
Dad and I move to his office and call in Colton and Hawk. Both are right outside the bedroom door, so finding them isn’t difficult. Dad sits behind his desk and I lean against the bookshelf behind him.
Colton and Hawk settle into the chairs before the desk after Dad gestures for them to do so. They both have twin expressions of confusion and concern, and I smile. If there were ever two men who were solidly in our corner, without question, it would be these two.
“Well, I’m going to get right into it,” Dad says and leans back in his creaking leather desk chair. “Before we make any significant changes to our lives and the business, we need to come to an agreement on security.”
“I already have additional staff from Safe House working the doors and floor security. Local police have been outside this building and the Taylor offices controlling traffic and pedestrians since the news break. I have two Crows and an unmarked local police car outside Wren’s home. I can have someone in the home with your permission, Wren.”
“Yeah, they can enter. Tell them to check on Angelica’s water and give her some snacks,” I say.
“There’s an open bag of berry snacks in the cupboard in her room,” Colton adds.
Hawk immediately pulls out his phone and sends off a text. When he puts his phone away, Dad speaks again.
“Thank you, Hawk. Now, remove your mask,” Dad says, the smile audible in his voice.
Colton’s head snaps between me, Dad, and Hawk. His eyes are wide, matching Hawk’s.
“Geoffrey, I don’t understand,” Hawk says slowly. “Am I being let go?”
“No! Why would you think that? Hawk, if Wren and I are about to be… exposed, then it’s only fair that you no longer live in secret as well. How can we expect you both to remain anonymous when we are no longer similarly protected?”
“Respectfully, this is the opposite approach to appropriate security,” Hawk says like he’s reasoning with a child.
“You two are not going anywhere and security isn’t reducing in force. We are simply reducing our, as Wren put it, ‘creepy militant’ levels,” Dad explains.
Colton and I lock gazes, and I smile. His eyes are soft on me, still curious, but more accepting.
“We’re about to be in the public eye a lot more,” I add. “And I feel like all the PR people in the dining room would agree hiding your face makes it seem like you’re hiding your actions. Or, in our case, hiding our actions behind the masks of our security. That’s the exact response we’re going to try our best to avoid. It’s going to be hard to seem likeable and relatable if we’re constantly asking people to disregard the Viking sized men in scary masks behind us.”
Colton chuckles, but I can see he agrees with me.
Hawk takes a deep breath and lifts his hands to his mask. He untucks the material from the collar of his black button down. “I’m about to be in breach of contract. This better not be a trap.”
Dad laughs, loud and deep. “No, Hawk, this is not entrapment. We’ll draw up new contracts.”
Hawk lifts the mask over his head and my heart lifts, seeing his face for the first time. He’s about the same age as dad, his skin showing the signs of aging around his mouth and eyes. His face is stern but kind as he looks between me and Dad. Hawk’s hair is short cropped and a salt and pepper color. It’s messy from the balaclava and he runs a hand over it.
“Hello old friend, what’s your name?” Dad asks, smiling.
“My name is John. John Lark,” he says.
“You mean you had a bird name this whole time?” I practically shriek.
Hawk laughs. “Yeah, I did.”
His laugh is a sound I’ve heard before. Rarely, but certainly a sound I’m familiar with. Now, seeing it on his face, I’m almost emotional. This man has been in my life since the death of my mom. He’s been the stand in for every Blue Jay I made rage quit. He background checked every friend, teacher, coach, and date. He loves London Fogs with sugar free vanilla. He likes rock hard biscotti. He listens to jazz music and once showed me he knows how to polka dance. He shed a tear standing next to my dad for every dance recital and piano concert growing up. He once attended a parent teacher conference when Dad was stuck in a meeting. This is the man who has been on the receiving end of my snarky Mother’s Day cards for years.
I rush around the desk and hug him tightly. He pats my hair and I sniffle into his shoulder. He still smells like the same soap he has always used. And his favorite tea. I inhale it. Because as little as I’ve known of him, I’ve known a lot too. And he is a part of my life almost as much as Dad is. If I’ve learned anything from my life with Colton these past few months is knowing someone doesn’t require their face or their name. It’s so much more in the little things.
“Oh, Wren,” Hawk, or John, sighs and smooths my hair back.
“It’s so good to finally see you… John,” I say and pull away.
“It’s good to be seen by you,” John chuckles and looks from me to Dad.
Dad is staring at the man that has been his closest companion for twenty years. He’s smiling, but there are tears in his eyes. He sniffs and looks from me to Colton. Then he smiles wider and nods. “Alright, Ha—John. I think we should give these two some privacy. We can draft some new contracts for the security and house staff.”
They both leave and the door shuts quietly behind them.
“Take it off,” I demand of Colton.
He laughs. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What if you think I’m ugly?”
“Your magic tongue and your peachy ass would make up for it.”
“Wren.”
“Please, I want to meet Colton,” I practically beg him.
He stands from his chair. I grip his hands in mine. I’m shaking with anticipation. He brings my hands to his mask covered lips and kisses them.
“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he whispers.
“Me neither, but I’ve wanted this for so long,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I’ve wanted to see your face since the moment I saw your eyes. You walked into my bedroom that first day and your eyes were… alive. You’re so expressive here.” I touch around his eyes and brows. “I always knew how you were feeling. No other Blue Jay has been so real , so alive .”
Colton gets to his knees and looks up at me. His gaze is soft, serene. He looks at me like he adores me. Like I’m worth the trouble.
My shaking hands tug at the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it from the collar of his black henley shirt. I lift it.
I close my eyes.
I take a slow breath and drop the mask.
He exhales a soft laugh and his hands come around my thighs.
My heart pounds and my stomach clenches with nerves.
I open my eyes.
A gasp escapes me.
He stands up, a smile on his face.
Sharp jaw, full pouty lips, good nose with that fantastic Roman arch, defined cheekbones, and the brightest, most expressive blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s beautiful. His smile is wide and cocky. Like he knows he’s hot. Like he knows how wet I am just looking at him.
His blond hair is messy and static filled from the mask and I want to run my hands through it.
“Hi, I’m Wren Taylor,” I say and hold out my hand.
“Hi Wren, I’m Colton Taggart.” He shakes my hand.
“It’s nice to finally meet the man I’m in love with,” I say, just above a whisper.
His eyes widen and his lips part in shock. His entire face is as expressive as his eyes. “You love me?”
My breath catches in my throat. “I love you, Colton Alexander Taggart.”
“Good, because I’m in love with you, too,” he says and bends down to kiss me.
I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my hands in his soft hair as I kiss him. I don’t want to close my eyes. I want to take in every angle of him. I want to memorize this beautiful man kissing me. He laughs as he spins me around in the center of Dad’s office.
We laugh and kiss. It’s uncoordinated and awkward, but I want nothing else than to be in this man’s arms. With eager hands, I touch his face, his hair. I feel his long blond lashes as they fan his cheeks. His stubbly jaw as he kisses me. The silky hair at his nape.
When we stop kissing, we’re still grinning like idiots in love. The pink tinge to his cheeks is addicting, and I want to stare at him all day until it’s time for bed. Then I want to see his face as he comes undone and whimpers and moans the way I so desperately love.
He runs a hand over his jaw. “I’m going to grow a beard. It was too itchy under the mask.”
“You’ll look great. You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”
He blushes harder.
“I’m not kidding,” I say. “I can’t wait to see this face on the body I’m obsessed with.”
His eyes go molten and he bites his lip. “Oh, yeah?”
“I can’t wait to see what you look like when you come.”
“Hm, well, that can be arranged,” he says and grips my hand in his.
A knock sounds at the door.
“You two ready? Everyone’s waiting,” Dad calls.
“Later,” Colton says with an exhale and kisses me chastely before we head out to plan.