Chapter 32 #2
He shakes his head, jaw clenching. “The past doesn’t matter. What matters is the here and now. She’s home and so are you. And from where I’m standing, the two of you are making a go at it. You look happy, Jett. There’s a light in your eyes shining bright, one I haven’t seen in too long.”
Everyone’s right. I'm happy. The happiest I’ve ever been, because through the tragedy life forced in my lap, I learned who I was. My future has never been clearer than it is right now.
And it starts with the woman on the other side of the glass.
Wren
An arm snakes through mine, gently trying to steer me somewhere, but I'm so busy watching—swooning over—Jett holding his nephew, that I literally can't see anything or anyone else. The way he shocks me by confidently holding the four-month-old in his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The Jett I used to know was terrified of babies. He always said they made him nervous about how fragile and dependent they were on us. When we’d talk about our future, he reassured me he’d be able to handle our kids since they would be a piece of us.
I wonder if he still wants kids or has life hardened him to the point that kids are out of the question. I wouldn’t say I’d blame him. War changes people and seeing children go through what he witnessed can easily shift opinions.
After losing our baby and experiencing the abuse from Elias’s hands, getting pregnant was my biggest fear.
I was terrified I’d make a baby with the devil.
It’s why I had to find a way to get on birth control without him knowing.
He used to talk about getting me pregnant as a threat—a manipulation tactic to control me.
For the longest time, I dreaded the idea of having a baby.
Even though becoming a mother was all I ever wanted growing up.
Watching Jett talk to his nephew and bounce him in his arms, the itch is back. To have a child with him—and only him. There’s no denying Jett’s looks. He’s hot as hell on a normal day, but seeing him holding a baby, it’s safe to say my panties are damn near ready to melt off me.
Saylor tugs me toward the patio door. I meet my dad’s eyes as I pass by him, greeting him before I’m swept outside. Saylor’s arm never leaves mine as she guides me to the seat next to her.
“I see my brother is the reason you missed Pilates.” Saylor’s eyebrows wiggle at the insinuation.
I chuckle as she tugs me toward the patio doors. When I glance over my shoulder, Jett flashes me a wink. And yep, there go my panties.
The sound of the door opening pulls our attention.
“Hope you don’t mind if I join,” Bret says tentatively, closing the door, but not without sparing a glance behind her.
“Not at all, Sister,” Saylor welcomes. “I was quizzing Wren on her absence from Pilates this morning.”
Bret hums. “By the way she’s staring at your brother, I’m going to guess she was getting her workout in another way.”
Saylor whips her head my way, pink hair nearly wrapping around her face. I raise my hand in defense. “Do you want the details of your brother and me? I’m happy to provide details about how he leaves me satisfied.”
Her face scrunches in disgust as Bret barks out a laugh. “That was a good one.”
“Thanks.” I smile warmly at her.
“I’m not asking for details,” Saylor explains with a quick shake of her head. “I’m happy to see you two working through your past.”
“Past? You two used to date?”
Saylor tosses her wavy hair over her shoulder as she turns toward her sister-in-law.
“Past is an understatement, but it’s the classic high school sweetheart love story.
Minus the fact that he left without a word and she moved to California.
Then it turned all Hallmark-esque when the big city girl moved back to her small town. ”
“Oh my god, Saylor.” I laugh. “If you think our love story is anything similar to Hallmark, you’ve clearly lost the plot.”
Bret huffs a laugh as Saylor shrugs. “I’m not a romance person, so what do I know?”
“You don’t like romance? How did I not know this?” I ask, eyes widening.
Bret crosses her legs in her seat. “Oh, you didn’t know she’s Miss Slasher?”
“Miss Slasher? That’s new.”
“Your favorite movie is Scream, what else would I call you?” Bret asks.
“Scream? Seriously?”
Saylor sighs, leaning back in her seat and tossing her arms to the side. “Stu and Billy can do filthy things to me.”
Bret and I both chuckle as we watch Saylor’s face melt dreamily as she stares at nothing in particular.
“Girl, you need to read some smutty dark romances. I’ve got some reverse harem recs if you want any.”
“What kind of books are you reading, Bret?”
She chuckles, blushing slightly. “In college, one of my friends got me hooked on romance books, but I found I only liked ones with darker themes, especially when the female had more than one love interest.”
“Like threesomes?” Saylor questions.
Bret chews on her thumbnail, nodding. “Or more…”
Saylor squeals in excitement, but Bret almost looks embarrassed to admit the kinds of books she likes to read.
“Hey, we don’t yuck people’s yums. Do you, girl,” I reassure her before admitting, “I’ve never had a threesome. It always felt like too much work to me.”
“I’ve definitely been curious about it. I added it to my fuck-it list.”
“Your what?”
Saylor turns toward me. “My fuck-it list. It’s like a bucket list, but for fucking.”
“Oh my god,” Bret gasps. “I love that idea.”
“Have you ever had a threesome?”
I laugh at the drastic change in conversation. “Damn, we’re getting deep today.”
Saylor shrugs. “I’ve always wanted sisters to talk about this stuff with.”
I squeeze her thigh, remembering how often she used to tell me she wished I were her sister and not her “stinky brothers”—her words, not mine.
Bret fidgets in her seat. “I’ve never had a threesome, but one time in college, I had a dream I was the main dish with two of my roommates.
We were lying in bed, watching a movie together while my third roommate had a study group over.
I was squeezed between the two and drifted off to sleep.
It was the hottest, most intense, realistic dream I’ve ever experienced.
Like I nearly came right there without being touched, only from the sensation of the dream. ”
I wave my hand over my face. “Okay, you win. Did you ever try to play out your dream?”
Bret shakes her head. “I was afraid to make things more complicated.”
Shifting in my seat, I lean forward. “Who was it with?”
“Tyler Harris. He’s the quarterback—”
“For LA!” I shout. “I met him once. So fucking hot.”
“So hot,” Saylor and Bret agree.
“Wait!” Saylor throws her arms, nearly smacking me in the face. “My brother was your roommate!”
A devilish smirk curls over Bret’s face as she meets Say’s stare.
The scream Saylor releases is nearly ear-splitting. “Oh my god, ew!”
Bret and I let out a squeal of cackles. I lean forward and clutch my stomach as I watch Saylor nearly dry heave with disgust. Bret laughs as she tries to talk her sister-in-law off the ledge.
In the midst of our laughter, we missed the door opening.
“What’s so funny?” Jett asks, startling us.
The three of us jump in our seats, startled by the intrusion.
“Yeah, Wife, what’s got you three losing your shit?” Crew asks, rubbing Bret’s shoulders.
“Your wife,” Saylor starts, standing from her seat. “Is scarring me for life.”
“Oh.” Crew glances at his wife, lips tipping in a smile. “Did you tell her about that new thing we tried…”
Bret scrambles to her knees, turning and placing a hand over his mouth. “No! And you’re not telling them either.”
Saylor covers her ears as she starts making noises to drown out the sexual admissions of her brother. Jett steps closer to me, leaning down and pressing a kiss behind my ear.
“What’d I miss?”
I shake my head. “Nothing you’d want to know.”
Strong fingers grip my chin, turning my head to face him as he presses a soft kiss to my lips.
“Oh my god,” Saylor gags. “They’re stinky boys, what do you see in them?”
She storms from her seat, and I can’t help giggling against Jett’s lips. “I’m afraid we’ve scarred your sister.”
“She’ll get over it.”
The door opens again as Saylor calls us in to eat.
Dinner starts without a hitch. Forks clink on plates as silence slices through the room, everyone too focused on the delicious food.
Lydia and Grandma Warren prepared a roast with carrots, onions, and celery served with mashed potatoes and gravy, and sourdough rolls.
Grandma is on a sourdough kick. She even named her starter after her favorite country singer—Reba McEnrise, after Reba McEntire.
As much as I loved sitting on the back porch, laughing with the girls, I can’t keep my mind from drifting to last night. It has to be paranoia…right?
There’s no way Elias has left LA to find me in Silo Bay. For years, he told me he’d never step foot in this backward town, saying there was nothing for me here. It’s part of the reason why I never visited. He made me believe this town was beneath me. What a joke.
I haven’t heard much from my lawyer, although I have missed a few calls. I’ve been too busy actually living my life to bother calling him back. It’s stupid to ignore his calls when he’s busting his ass to get me out of contracts and find a way to keep Elias away.
I make a mental note to call him tonight after dinner, even though it’s a Sunday. Collin doesn’t take time off for anyone or anything. Well, except for Los Angeles football games.
“You good?” Jett whispers in my ear.
I blink, refocusing on the room and my nearly untouched plate. “Yeah, sorry. A little tired.”
His brow furrows. “Didn’t sleep well?”
I offer him a tight smile. “Guess I got used to having you in my bed.”
Jett’s hand finds my thigh under the table, and he gives it a reassuring squeeze. “We can fix that.”
“Would you two please stop? I don’t want to lose my appetite,” Saylor groans. Jett cuts her a glare, and she holds his stare, not backing down.
“Don’t look at me like that, Jett Samuel Riggsby. Between you two making googly eyes at each other and these two”—she points her fork in the direction of Bret and Crew—“I can barely stomach the beef.”
“It’s good to see my girls together,” Jett’s mom says. “What had you three laughing so hard?”
My eyes bounce across the table to Saylor, then Bret, whose face is as red as a tomato. Silence falls over the table, waiting for an answer. Without thinking, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Tyler Harris!”
Crew’s and Jett’s attention lands on me. “What about him?” Jett nearly growls.
I find the girls’ gazes and panic. “I was telling the girls how I met him in LA. Great guy.”
“Hot guy,” Saylor mumbles, and I nod.
“He was my roommate in college,” Crew supplies.
“That’s what Bret was telling me. You were all roommates, close friends, right, Bret?”
She chokes on her water. Crew eyes his wife suspiciously before observing me. I offer a tight-lipped smile as Jett leans close. “Tell me I don’t need to be jealous of him.”
It’s my turn to place a reassuring palm on his thigh. “You don’t.”
“Speaking of football,” Dad shifts the conversation. “When do you report back?”
“Toward the end of July. We have a few more weeks until we move back.”
Jett wipes his mouth, placing his napkin on his empty plate. “You guys could’ve stayed at my house. You didn’t need to rent something.”
“That’s kind of you,” Bret says, adjusting Carter in her arms. “We didn’t want to trouble you. Carter doesn’t sleep the greatest, and we didn’t want to keep you up.”
“It would’ve been no trouble,” Jett grumbles. A part of me thinks he’s a little offended they didn’t want to live with him. I think he misses having his brother close, even though the two fought constantly growing up. But life has a way of shifting perspective.
“I try to keep up with football,” Dad says. “Where’d all your friends end up?”
Crew finishes chewing the bite he just took. “As you know, Tyler Harris is the quarterback in Los Angeles. There’s a good chance he takes the team deep into the playoffs this year.”
Lydia and Grandma Warren stand from the table and gather empty dishes. I start to rise, but Grandma places her hand on my forearm, shaking her head and mouthing stay.
“JP’s not far from us, still up in Buffalo. Quinton Boyd’s still the top running back in Denver.”
“Oh, how's Q and his wife, what was her name?” Nora taps her chin.
“Brynn. They’re good. Up to four kids now, and she’s on some reality show.”
My head jerks at the mention of a reality show, but I don’t say anything. I keep the haunted memories to myself because not every reality show is as fucked up as mine.
Crew carries the conversation as he recounts stories from life on the road and playing professionally.
An hour passes as dessert is served and the dining table is cleared. Carter begins to fuss, so Crew and Bret take it as their sign to head out for the night.
I sit, lost in thought, as the laughter dies and goodbyes are said. Physically, I’m here, but I can’t bring myself to be present. Over the last few months, I’ve buried my time in LA in the back of my mind, allowing myself to be me and live a life I deserve.
But darkness swirls at the edge of my consciousness, and I’m afraid it's sinking its claws into me and dragging me under the surface.
I can’t go back to living in fear and pretending to be the Wren LA knew.
Breathe, Wren, breathe.
Jett’s strong body leans into mine as I catch a whiff of his familiar scent, pulling me in. Leather, vanilla, and mint. I don’t notice the smoke as much anymore. I wonder if he’s started to back off on his smoking. “Ready to go, Whiskey?”
I nod, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m ready.”
“I’ll drop you off first, but I need to come back to the office and finalize payroll. Or you can come with me?”
Shaking my head, I press a kiss to his jawline. “I’ll be fine at home, J. Don’t worry.”
We hug our goodbyes, and I paste on a smile, thanking everyone for dinner.
As I close the door to the log cabin, I can’t help but feel at home.
Dinner tonight felt normal, like everything is how it’s supposed to be.
I’m glad I waited until Jett and I worked through our differences.
I would’ve felt like I was tarnishing our past and our families with our issues.
With his hand in mine, it feels like we’ve turned over a fresh leaf, and it’s time to embrace our future.
That’s if the monster stays hidden. But he’s there. I can feel it, even though I can’t see him. I know he’s hiding in the shadows.
I wave to Jett as he drives off before stepping onto my front porch.
My worst fear proves my suspicions were true.
He’s here.