Chapter Fifteen
I t was close to ten on Monday night, and normally Inks stayed open until eleven, but Sam wasn’t feeling it tonight. He had woken up in the middle of the night on Saturday to discover Wren was gone and hadn’t left a note or message. He’d texted her yesterday morning and several times throughout the day with no response. He knew she probably had to work today, but that didn’t explain the silence yesterday. Was she ghosting him because he’d spooked her?
He was finishing putting the instruments into the sterilizer and turning on the machine when the bell on the shop’s front door rang. He went out to greet his visitor and saw Wren in a puffer jacket and jeans standing inside the door.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hey,” he said, noticing her normally slicked-back hair was hanging in loose waves around her shoulders. “Are you finally getting that tattoo you never wanted?”
Wren laughed. “No.”
“I can’t say I’m not surprised to see you. I figured after you didn’t respond to my texts, I was getting the final brush-off.”
“No, I just... I needed to think about what I needed to say.” Wren glanced around the room nervously, her gaze focusing on everything but him. “This is a nice place.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Alright, man, I’m headed out—” Mitch stopped talking when he spotted Wren, glancing at Sam as he finished shrugging into his jacket. “Hello.”
“Hi.”
“I’ve got this, Mitch.”
His friend’s eyes widened before his surprise melted into a grin. “Whatever you say, pal.” Mitch gave a little wave. “Nice to see you, Officer Little.”
“You, too.”
Mitch paused in the doorway, pointing at Sam and mouthing, You were holding out on me. When Wren turned, Mitched ducked out the door, leaving them alone.
Silence stretched between them until Sam cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to work today?”
“Oh, I did,” she said, moving farther into the shop. “I just went home and had some dinner, then changed my clothes to come see you.” Wren ran her finger over the back of his chair, adding, “I wasn’t sure if you were here until close or not, and after I took off the other night and got busy yesterday, I wasn’t sure you’d answer a text.”
“Interesting,” he said, leaning a hip against the counter. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna see you again.”
“It’s kind of a small town, but I get it.” Wren bit her lip, finally meeting his gaze. “I’m sure people have found ways to hide from awkward situations like this.”
“Awkward, huh?” He snorted. “I thought you were going to say mind-blowing.”
“It was, absolutely,” she said hesitantly.
“Go on. I can practically hear the ‘but’ coming.”
“But I just wanted to sleep in my own bed.”
“Ah,” he said, pushing off the counter and stalking toward her. “So it had nothing to do with avoiding me?” Sam stroked his hand over her cheek before burying it in the beautiful waves of her hair.
He forgot all about the hurt and frustration coiling inside him when she melted against his hold, the light casting a glow over her parted lips.
“Never wanting to feel my hands on your body again?” Her breath caught, and he took advantage, leaning over to brush his mouth with hers. “Never wanting me to kiss you until you have to come up for air?”
Wren arched to meet his lips, and he obliged her, covering her mouth with his. They grappled with each other’s clothing with impatience, his hands sliding under her jacket and pushing it to the ground. Sam turned her, reaching for the door to lock it, and once he heard the click, he switched off the lights.
Wren giggled against his lips. “Making sure nobody walks in on us?”
“That’s the plan,” he said, stripping off his T-shirt before his mouth was back on hers. God, he loved her sweet, heady taste. Wren’s fingers went to the belt of his jeans, sliding the leather out of the loops.
“I think it’s about time I showed you something else, don’t you?” She unbuttoned his jeans, pushing the rough fabric down his hips, taking his boxer briefs with them. He hopped from one foot to the other, kicking off his Hey Dudes and helping her divest him of his pants.
“What is that, exactly?”
She pushed him down onto the bench against the wall, standing over him with a grin as she tied her hair in a knot. She kneeled before him, pulling his pants, underwear, and socks all the way off until he was sitting naked in front of her.
Sam saw the flash of her wicked grin in the dim lighting just before she whispered, “How to make a man come in sixty seconds.”
Sam scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t know what tricks you think you have up your sleeve, but there is no way—” Sam grabbed on to the edge of the bench when her mouth covered him, and she drew him down in a long, slow suck. “Holy fuck!”
Her fingers were pressing behind his balls, closer to his ass than he’d let a woman go in a long time, and whatever she was doing with her fingers made his already tight balls jerk. Her mouth worked him in a steady, fast rhythm that didn’t falter, each precise suck and lick bringing him closer to the precipice. He moaned, “Holy fuck, whatever you’re doing, don’t fucking— Wren!”
There was no way he was already on the verge of coming, but when he threw his head back, hitting the wall with his crown, he ignored the slice of pain as his cock jerked one final time, and he blew. Her mouth still wrapped tightly around the base, she milked him with those glorious lips, swallowing his essence, and he slumped against the wall for support. His body was boneless, and he had no idea how she did it, but if that was an apology for ghosting him, he humbly accepted.
As long as she did it again sometime.
Wren did one last swirl of her tongue around the head of his cock, making him shiver, and she grinned up at him. “What was that about there being no way?”
“I stand, or more accurately, sit corrected,” Sam said, staring down at her flushed cheeks and glistening lips in wonder, “but are you going to tell me how you did it?”
“I hit your P-spot.”
“My what?” Sam said.
“Your P-spot. It’s your prostate, which can give a guy a super intense orgasm, just like a man can give a woman when he finds her G-spot.”
“Well, kudos to you.” His laugh was raspy, and he was still trying to catch his breath. “You are only the second woman to get that close to my ass without me freaking out.”
Wren rubbed her hands over his thighs and squeezed. “Good for you, then?”
Sam traced her cheek with his fingers. “Amazing.”
“Perfect,” Wren said, climbing to her feet. “Then we’re even.”
Sam’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I felt a little bad that you’ve been doing most of the foreplay and I just sat back and enjoyed the fruits of your labors.” She leaned over him, giving him a sweet, lingering kiss. “I thought I’d come over and show you how grateful I am. Make sure we were good.” Wren smoothed her hands over her body before leaning over and picking up her coat. “This thing between us doesn’t have to be anything more than two people having a moment.”
Sure, because exes have moments all the time.
“I just mean that that wasn’t what I came over for that first night,” she said, obviously reading into his expression. “I thought we could talk and catch up, and then everything kind of happened.”
Sam didn’t like the way that sounded. “But you wanted it to happen, right?”
“Well, if I didn’t, it wouldn’t have happened, so, yes, I did.”
That was a lackluster response to experiences he’d found mind-blowing. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
“I’m just not sure it should happen again,” she said quickly.
And there it was. The rejection he’d expected before she’d given him the most incredible, intense blow job. He hadn’t expected it to be a repayment, orgasm for orgasm.
“Are you angry with me?” she asked.
Not quite, but there were too many emotions rushing through him, Sam couldn’t be sure. “Why would I be angry?”
“I don’t know.” Wren slipped into her coat, her tone too casual for his comfort. “Maybe you thought last night meant something else?”
“Well, what should I think of it? We had incredible sex twice, and then you disappeared. You show up here to make sure we’re good, blow me, and then you’re halfway out the door before I can get my pants on.” Sam shook his head and leaned over to grab his pants off the floor. “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something without actually telling me, and I’d rather you just cut to the chase.”
“You want straight to the point?” she said sharply, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want a relationship. Ever.”
Sam processed that for several beats. “Are we talking with me or—”
“I don’t want to be with anyone. Someday, I might have kids. I just don’t want a partner.”
“I see,” he said, realizing that he had been completely off the mark with Wren. She wanted to live her life on her terms, but what had been developing between them was nostalgic. Two people who had incredible chemistry getting their rocks off and nothing more.
Two weeks ago, he would have shrugged and moved on without so much as a twinge. But somehow, he’d found himself thinking that Wren coming back right when things were changing for him was a sign.
“Do you want to go get something to drink with me?” Her eyes were wide and luminous, and he wondered if she wasn’t quite as resolved as she wanted to be.
Sam really did, but his brain was in overdrive, processing everything at half speed, and he needed time to think.
“Maybe another time?” he asked.
“Oh, well, sure. I’ll see you later.” She headed for the exit and glanced back at him, her gaze lingering. He realized he must look a sight, standing naked in the middle of the room with his pants in his hands. He felt vulnerable and exposed, and it took him back to every time he’d ended something with a woman. How many times had she been naked and sitting up in his bed, wearing just his sheet when he told her that he had a lot to do that day? Or when he snuck out and told her he’d call her?
He finally realized that they had every right to be pissed at him. He’d been a thoughtless prick.
“See you,” Sam said, a million thoughts running through his head. It wasn’t Wren’s fault that he was disappointed and thought there might be more there. Maybe if he was serious about dating, he should try one of the apps. If his brother and sister-in-law hadn’t done that years ago, they might not have realized that they liked each other.
Only now that Wren had stepped back into his life, Sam knew no other woman was going to chase her from his thoughts. For nineteen years, he’d kept her at the back of his mind, but he’d awakened something inside him that wasn’t going to just go away because she said it was over.
Especially when Sam didn’t believe for a single moment she was done with him.
The minute Millie opened her door, Wren blurted, “That did not go well.”
Millie stepped back, waving her to come in. “Are we talking ice cream or wine?”
“I might need something stronger,” Wren said, walking into Millie’s place and flopping face-first on the soft, green couch. She turned her head to the side so she wouldn’t smother herself and added, “Got any vodka? Whiskey?”
“That bad, huh? Let me see what I have.”
Millie disappeared into the adjoining dining room, leaving Wren to stew in her feels before returning a few moments later with a brown bottle. Millie popped the top and held it out to her.
Wren scrambled to sit up and took the whiskey bottle with a smile. “You’re an angel.”
“Let’s hope you’ll still think that in the morning. This stuff packs a punch.” Millie took the bottle from her and downed a swig before handing it back. “So, what happened? You let him down easy?”
“I didn’t exactly end things,” Wren said hesitantly.
“You told him you didn’t want anything serious, right?”
Wren nodded.
“And that you didn’t want a boyfriend?” Millie started ticking things off on her finger as she recited the game plan Wren had told her. “You never want to get married. You want to have kids but without the complications of commitment.” Millie watched her take another swig, one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. “How does none of that end things if he’s not down for a casual association?”
“I told him all that and gave him a spectacular BJ to soften the blow.”
Millie held up her hand. “Hold up! You told him you two couldn’t be anything to each other, and then you went down on him?”
“Yes?”
Millie gave her a come-here motion. “Give me the bottle.”
Wren did as she said, and no sooner had the bottle left her hand, a throw pillow came flying at her head, smacking her sharply.
“Ow!”
“Talk about mixed signals! What were you thinking?” Millie scolded her, and Wren scowled back, rubbing her face.
“I was trying to even things up, since he’d done the same to me—”
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t care why. How did he respond?”
“He seemed hurt and thrown, and I asked him to get a drink after all that, and he said he needed to think.”
“Girl, that is not how you cut a guy off, but you might have just alienated him to the point that he’ll never speak to you again.”
Millie’s words hit Wren like a fastball to the stomach, and Wren rubbed the ache with a frown. “I don’t want that.”
“No? What do you want then? Him to follow you around town, waiting outside your house, stalking you?” Millie gave her back the bottle, and Wren took an extra-large gulp, letting the liquor burn its way down her throat. “Listen, you got your rocks off, and the man isn’t pushing you besides a few text messages. Sounds like you got off easy. Why is this bothering you so much?”
Wren blew into the top of the bottle, making the glass groan. “It was just nice. It was like, the most amazing sex ever, and I thought I could keep him on the back burner as something fun and enjoyable while I figured out what my next steps were.”
Millie studied her for several minutes before offering, “I guess you have to talk to him about that, but what about your other issue?”
“Which would be?” Wren asked.
“You came back here to slow down and be a mom, and if you don’t have a longtime partner or boyfriend, you have to find another way to make that happen.”
“I know,” Wren sighed, “but the clinic tried to follow up with the one guy who called, and he hasn’t returned their phone calls.”
“So, what if you pulled a Mindy Kaling?”
Wren frowned, setting the bottle down on the side table. The whiskey was already going to her head, and she blinked against the heaviness of her eyelids. “What is a Mindy Kaling?”
“She has two children, and she doesn’t talk about the father. People assume that it’s her ex, B. J. Novak, because he’s involved with the kids, but the two of them don’t talk about it. They keep it under wraps, and she’s happy as a clam with two kids and no boyfriend, no husband, single, and living her best life.”
Wren scoffed. “But how many men do you know that would be okay with a situation like that?”
“I don’t know any,” Millie admitted, poking Wren in the knee. “But there’s a lot of single moms doing their thing. You could just find a man you’re never going to see again and roll the dice?”
“And end up with an unfriendly reminder in my drawers for the rest of my life?” Wren said, the prospect of ending up with an STD making her squirm. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Millie sighed. “It sounds like if you don’t want to keep searching for someone random to inseminate you, you are going to have to pick someone that you trust and respect who would be willing to do something like that for you.”
The prospect of going into an arrangement with someone she knew had its advantages. She’d know them well enough to ask about grandparents, find out their history when the kid started asking questions.
Only what if they changed their mind and started having opinions?
“Wren, breathe, you’re going to pass out,” Millie said, and Wren realized she was sucking in air like she’d run a marathon.
“I don’t think you want to do this.”
Wren stiffened. “Yes, I do. I’ve wanted to be a mom for years—”
“I mean, raising a stranger’s child. If you choose someone you know, you’d have to tell him everything, of course. Most men don’t trust women to be on the pill unless they’ve been together a while, and asking someone you know to just donate the sperm means giving up the fun part for him.”
Wren thought about Sam rolling the dice with her twice without a condom and grimaced. “The fun parts? Jeez.”
“I’m just saying, how are you going to get the stuff in you if you don’t have an expulsion method?”
Wren hooted when Millie used her hands to emulate the explosions. “Oh my God, stop! I could buy an at-home insemination kit!”
“I didn’t know they used those?” Millie laughed, wiping at her eyes. “I thought I was going to have to prop you up and use a turkey baster.”
This time, Wren hit Millie with the pillow. “I got the how part covered. It’s the sample that’s my issue.”
“Tell me this: Would Sam be willing to donate to you?” Millie leaned her elbow on the back of the couch, cradling the side of her head as she watched Wren’s expression. “He seems to be the one you’re holding out for.”
“I doubt it,” Wren grumbled.
“Then I suggest you avoid the man at all costs and keep looking.”
Wren groaned, grabbing one of Millie’s throw pillows and pressing her face to it, screaming.
“Oh, come on, Mistletoe has other hotties. Check this out.” Millie pulled out her phone and showed Wren the local men in her dating app. “See?”
“I remember him. He used to pick his nose,” Wren said, grimacing.
“Well, he looks alright now,” Millie said, continuing to scroll. “Plus, I heard they’re doing a whole Mistletoe bachelor auction. You could always bid on your choice of bachelor and tell him your proposition then.”
“Sure, I’ll just pick him out of a brochure, then spend money to get him alone, tell him my woes, and he’ll say yes.” Wren rolled her eyes. “That’s a great idea.”
“Sarcasm is an ugly defense mechanism,” Millie deadpanned. “Besides, it’s a better idea than what you have right now, which is nothing.”
“I have the profile I’ve already placed and a few leads,” Wren protested.
“Leads that didn’t pan out,” Millie shot back.
Wren glared at her. “You know you are a bit of an assmouth when you’ve had too much whiskey late at night?”
“This is just my personality now,” Millie said, blowing her a kiss. “Get used to it.”
Wren laughed. “I really missed you.”
“You’re the one who wanted to go traipsing around the country, catching bad guys in big cities and getting shot in inappropriate places.”
“Hey!” Wren was used to people cracking jokes about her injury, but it still stung sometimes. She’d done her job, and if she’d had all the information, it never would have happened. “It wasn’t my fault. I was chasing the other guy and had no idea he had a buddy.”
“Whatever,” Millie said, grinning sheepishly. “I just think you like to tell that story to get guys to look at your butt.”
“Girl, my butt is awesome,” Wren said, hopping up from the couch and turning around. “I don’t need an excuse to make them look.
“No, you don’t,” Millie said, smacking her butt. “But then again, why do you want them looking at it if they can’t have you?”
“They can have me for a good time, just not for a long time.”
Millie shook her head. “I would like to have somebody for more than just a good time.”
“What about the science teacher?” Wren asked, flopping down next to her again. “I thought things were going well.”
“He’s fine.” Wren’s eyebrows hiked at the lackluster response, and when Millie saw her expression, she added with more enthusiasm, “He’s nice, but I guess I figure, I’ve waited for so long. I don’t wanna settle. I want somebody I’m excited to see every day.”
“Then stop dating him and don’t settle.”
Millie made a face. “And the alternative is to sit at home alone, eating ice cream or drinking whiskey with my best friend?”
“You were doing that anyways while you’re dating the science guy.”
Millie brought her legs up on the couch and hugged her knees. “Because he is sick with a sinus infection and doing nose therapy.”
Wren waggled her eyebrows. “Do you wanna know what nose therapy is? I could show you a video.”
“No, you will not, because when I looked it up before, I almost threw up.” Millie shook her head. “Normally, I would just call things off, but he is a nice guy, and having a date for all of the Christmas festivities at school makes it a little less awkward.”
“Really?” Wren said skeptically. “’Cause it seems to me if you went to the school functions alone, you might be able to make the moves on a certain physical education teacher.”
Millie rolled her eyes. “Matt is never going to look at me like that.”
“And why not?”
“Because he’s had three years to notice me and hasn’t yet.”
“You also act like he’s your pal,” Wren argued, pointing at her, “and don’t put yourself out there.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Millie asked.
“Show him that you’re interested and available?”
“And what about when I embarrass myself, and he rejects me hard-core, and I have to quit my job and move away?” Millie waved her hand in the air. “What advice would you give me then?”
“You know what I’m saying.” Wren scooted closer and put her arm around her shoulder, adding, “If you never take a chance, how are you gonna know? Frankly, I would rather know that I did everything in my power to get what I wanted than sit on my laurels and lament about how I wish things could be different.”
“So what you’re saying is you’re turning my advice around on me?”
“You caught that, did you?” Millie gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’re welcome!”