Chapter 14 #4
Sure, she’d lied to him, but now that he knew it was because she was trying to help her sister and keep her job safe, he got it.
There was precious little he wouldn’t do for any of his brothers or cousins.
He liked the idea that she was so committed to her family. It was something they had in common.
Maverick’s words echoed in his head.
Go get your girl.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the entrance. It took him a moment to catch his bearings once inside, because the place was hopping. The dance floor was already crowded, the music was thumping, and laughter echoed from every corner of the room.
The community center was awash in white twinkle lights and autumn-colored decorations. Someone had really gone the extra mile in cutting out orange, red, yellow, and green leaf shapes, plastering them to basically anything that didn’t move.
Grayson scanned the room. It was easy to find the tables his family had claimed. They’d grown so large in the past couple of years, they had to shove a couple together. And even then, it looked like they’d added a few extra chairs.
Jace caught his eye and waved, indicating an empty spot next to him. Grayson waved back, holding up one finger.
Jace, the clever bastard, fully aware of who he was seeking, smirked, then tilted his head toward a table to his left.
Grayson followed that direction with his gaze…and found Wren seated at a table near the wall. His heart skipped a beat.
She was sitting alone, watching the dancers, looking like she’d rather be literally anywhere else in the world.
She’d managed to position herself close to some decorative maple tree someone had dragged inside and strung with lights.
He started to head that direction but stopped short when Lark approached her sister, sliding an orange-colored cocktail in front of Wren before claiming the chair next to her.
The twins leaned close, speaking with their faces next to each other, probably so they could hear over the music. Wren gestured toward the exit, and Lark shook her head.
He’d worked with Lark long enough to recognize that she had a stubborn streak as wide as Grayson’s. He didn’t have to hear their words to know that Wren wanted to leave, and Lark was refusing to let her do so.
For once in their lives, he and Lark were on the same page.
He studied the way Wren sat, with her shoulders stooped and her body hunched over. Was this what Lark meant by reverting?
Because the Wren at the festival had been vibrant, bright, curious. So had the woman he’d come to know in the library. That Wren had smiled easily and laughed at his corny jokes. Her eyes sparkled.
This Wren was a shadow of that person. Small, quiet, withdrawn. It looked like she was trying to become one with the chair.
His chest tightened.
If this was what Lark meant, he didn’t like it. Something inside him twisted painfully. No one should look that sad and lost.
Especially not his girl.
He started walking toward her, not stopping until he stood directly next to her table.
She looked up and surprise flashed across her face, immediately replaced by wariness.
Dammit. He’d done that. Given her reason to want to avoid him.
“Hello, Wren.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended.
She swallowed. “Hello, Grayson.”
Even his name sounded different now. Quieter, more careful, as if she was bracing herself.
“Dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand.
Her eyes widened. “I…” She glanced at her sister, who’d been uncharacteristically silent.
Lark studied his face for a long moment, then shrugged. “I’m going to go make Rob dance with me. He’s as un-fun as you are tonight.”
Neither he nor Wren spoke as Lark rose and headed toward their younger brother, who was sitting with a bunch of guys about his age, all of them adopting that typical “bored teenager” look.
Obviously, a dance at the community center with a bunch of older people wasn’t cool with the high school crowd.
Once Lark was gone, he held his hand out again.
Wren stared at it for a few seconds, like she couldn’t quite believe it was there.
“Wren,” he said, and her gaze lifted to his.
For one brief moment, he saw it. The same vulnerability and hope he’d glimpsed at the festival. Only this time, it was lumped together with sadness and fear.
He wasn’t certain how so many emotions could be tangled together like that, but it sure as hell strengthened his resolve in regards to Ms. Wren McCoy.
She was his, and whatever burden she was carrying was no longer riding on her shoulders alone. He was sharing the load, because he wasn’t walking away from her again.
“I don’t dance,” she said softly, reiterating the words she’d said that night at Whiskey Abbey. It occurred to Grayson if she’d accepted his invitation that night, he would have discovered who she really was to him earlier.
One touch…
“You do tonight.”
She blinked at that, as if puzzling out whether she’d heard him correctly.
But then…she reached out, slowly, cautiously, and placed her hand in his. He gently tugged her from the chair but made no move to continue to the dance floor.
Instead, he leaned closer, his lips next to her ear when he whispered, “You’re mine now, little bird.”