Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
She said yes .
The first thing Elias had done when he woke the next morning was check his phone, hoping for a message from Wren. He’d tossed and turned all night second-guessing himself, thinking that he’d been a fool to reach out.
He opened his texts, heart pounding, half-expecting to see nothing. But there it was—a sweet and short message from Wren: Yes .
Relief washed over him as he stared at the screen, reading the single word over and over. A simple Yes . Just three letters, yet it felt like she’d thrown him a lifeline. He wasn’t entirely sure what it meant—whether she wanted to talk things out, to give him one last chance, or just hand over his jeans and t-shirt then walk away for good. He wanted to believe it was more than just a polite response, but doubt crept in. Maybe she just didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
But she said yes .
Before he let his doubts take over, he texted back.
I’ll call you tonight after my shift.
He watched three dots bounce while she answered.
Sounds good. Be safe!
Elias smiled at that. Safe or not, it would be one long shift.
As they rode out on their first call, Elias pushed all thoughts of Wren to the back of his mind, focusing instead on prepping for a car accident. Elias secured a trauma bag on the bench next to him. His hands moved almost on their own from muscle memory.
Waylon glanced over at Elias, his brow furrowed in concern as he checked the equipment one last time. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, actually,” Elias answered, grabbing a C-collar from the compartment above.
“You look like you didn’t sleep, and I can tell you’re keyed up.”
“No, I’m good, brother.” The familiar scent of antiseptic and the slight hum of the road beneath them filled the space as he adjusted the collar, readying it for use.
“Wren again?”
Elias couldn’t help but grin. “I’m talking to her tonight.”
Waylon smiled back, giving him a quick nod. “Good luck.”
The rest of the shift kept them busy. They dealt with the usual chaos—two more car accidents, a couple of heart attacks, and a call about a kid undergoing possible anaphylactic shock that turned out to be a false alarm but had everyone’s adrenaline spiking. No paramedic ever wanted to fail a kid. All the while, Elias’ mind kept wandering back to Wren despite his best efforts. To what he would say when he spoke to her.
Elias didn’t even wait to get home to call her. As soon as they got back to the station and he’d changed into his civvies, he took out his phone and hit the call button.
The phone rang once. Twice. Then?—
“Elias?”
Her voice caught him off guard. He’d been half-expecting her voicemail again because she’d changed her mind.
“Hey, Wren.” He ran his hand through his hair. Keep it light . “I was just calling to check up on my jeans. You know, making sure they’re adjusting well to their new living situation.”
Wren’s laugh made his heart skip. She didn’t even try to hide it. “Your jeans are doing just fine and so is your t-shirt. I’m feeding them three times a day and taking them for walks. They’ve even made friends with my slippers, which usually growl at strange clothing.”
“Sounds like they’re settling in,” he teased, leaning back against the locker room wall as his shoulders relaxed. “But I gotta say, my scrubs top misses them. It keeps scratching at the door and looking at me with big, sad eyes.”
“Oh dear. I hadn’t meant for that to happen. Poor thing.”
“Actually, there’s a good chance that it misses you more than my jeans and t-shirt.” Elias swallowed. “I sure do.” He took a breath, trying to ease into asking her what went wrong without losing the light mood. “Wren… About that message I left you. I meant it. I really do want to see you again. To talk. Get to know each other better.”
“I want that too,” she replied, her tone softer and more serious.
“But first.” He paused, hoping he wasn’t pushing too hard and scaring her off. “I think we need to clear the air about Sunday. I was ready to spend the rest of the day with you, but you said goodbye like you didn’t want to see me again.”
“What exactly was going on between you and Waylon?” Her question came out of the blue and threw him off completely.
“Waylon? What do you mean?”
“I was getting a weird vibe when you told everyone what I do for a living. The tone of your voice—it was like you were trying to impress Waylon with the whole photographing celebrities thing. And before that, you guys hung back in Gabe’s office. Were you talking about me? Does,” she hesitated. “Does he maybe not approve of me?”
Now Elias understood. He chuckled with relief. “No, baby, that’s not what was going on. Okay, yeah, Waylon and I were talking about you in Gabe’s office. He was curious about what was going on with us. Normally, I would have just taken you straight to your house from Cocks and Strippers. Left without spending the night. Don't get me wrong, I would have left you happy, but I still would have left.” He grinned. “Kind of the way you sneaked out Saturday morning.”
“Is that it? Me leaving—is that the problem you were talking about with him? Or about my habit of stealing your clothes?” She said it lightly, but Elias was tuned in, and he could hear the slight undercurrent of worry.
Now is not the right time to tease . “No, baby, no, I'm messing all of this up.”
Elias dragged his hand through his hair until it stood up on end. “What I’m trying to say is, I told Waylon that you were different. That I’d taken you back to my place instead of going to yours. He was skeptical because he didn’t think I knew you well enough for that. I think what you were picking up on was that I was trying to convince him that I do know you well enough. And that was the moment I realized I didn’t. I don’t know where you grew up, or your favorite color, or any of that.”
“So, he wasn’t trying to talk you out of seeing me?”
“God, no. He actually told me I needed to get to know you. But I wouldn't give a damn if Waylon approved of you or not. All I know is that I think you’re amazing. You’re funny, and sweet, and smart. When I’m with you, the rest of the world just sort of falls away. And from the second I saw you…I felt like I already knew you.” He swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Does that sound crazy?”
She paused long enough that Elias was afraid she’d disconnected.
“It’s not like me to get so caught up in someone, either,” she finally said. “So, it doesn’t sound, or feel, crazy to me at all. Which is why I think it freaked me out a little,” she admitted with a nervous laugh. “Made me feel like something this good couldn’t possibly last. So, I walked away first to keep from getting hurt.”
Elias nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “I get it. Trust me, I’ve been thinking the same thing. That I wasn’t good enough for you. That I was the one who didn’t measure up.”
“Wow. We’re two of a kind, aren’t we?” She laughed again.
Elias closed his eyes and pressed his head against the wall as he listened to the sweet sound of her laughter. It was a little louder this time, and without any nervousness.
“Yeah, we are.” He opened his eyes and took a deep breath as the tension in his chest eased. “This is a good thing, and I want it to last, too.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Wren, I don’t say things I don’t mean. Especially not to someone who has a hostage situation with my clothes.”
She laughed again, and the tension in his chest eased a little more.
“Hostage situation, huh? I told you, I’m taking very good care of your clothes.”
“Right, three meals a day and walks.”
“Exactly.” He listened to her sigh. “Okay, so what do we do next?”
“I’m working the rest of the week. How about you bring my jeans and t-shirt back to their rightful owner on Saturday?” he suggested, his tone light but his heart hammering. “Come over to my place, spend the day hanging out with Penny and Chuck. We can take them for a longer walk. I think they miss you, too. We could have dinner too, if you’d like that. No pressure, just… Us getting to know each other.”
Another pause, but this time it was shorter, and when Wren answered, he heard the smile in her voice, loud and clear. “I’d like that. Saturday sounds perfect.”
Elias let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Great. It’s a date then. And Wren?”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“I can’t wait to see you either, Elias.”
Twenty-four hours later, Elias stood on his front porch, laughing. In one hand he held a large manila envelope he’d found taped to his door, along with a note:
Dear Elias,
I realized that I’m not a very good kidnapper (clothesnapper?) and that I’m falling down on the job. Enclosed, please find proof of life along with an article of MY clothing so that we can do a proper hostage swap on Saturday. Though I have to say, your jeans tend to hug me every time I put them on, and so does your t-shirt when I wear it to bed. What I’m saying is, they might not want to come home. Sorry not sorry.
Yours in Stockholm Syndrome,
Wren
In his other hand, he held three 8x10 glossy photographs pulled from the envelope which made him laugh even harder. There they were in the photos—proof that his jeans and t-shirt were alive and well. In the first photo, they were outside and posed so that it looked like an invisible man was wearing them and leaning against a tree. In the second photo, they were laid out on Wren’s bed, kicking back and watching TV with a bowl of popcorn, her pair of slippers posed so that they looked like dogs begging for a stray piece of popcorn.
But he liked the third photo the best. Wren, her hazel eyes sparkling with their usual mischief, wearing his jeans and tee and holding a handwritten sign that said:
Miss you.
The envelope felt too light to be holding much in the way of clothing, but something lay at the bottom, wrapped carefully in tissue paper. He tucked the note and photos under his arm, pulled out the bundle, and tore the tissue paper open.
Five minutes later, with Chuck and Penny at his feet, Elias sat in front of his computer, composing an email:
Dear Clothesnapper,
Thanks for the proof of life, especially the third photo. While I appreciate the hostage-swap gesture, you still have me at a huge disadvantage. You’ve only presented me with one hostage while you have two. I demand a second hostage of the same caliber from you before Saturday, or else you will never see this one again.
Yours in Stockholm Syndrome,
Elias
P.S. You are NOT getting a photo of me wearing this hostage. Ever. Sorry not sorry.
“Take that,” he said as he hit ‘send’ then picked up the silky, lacy, sexy-as-hell panties that weighed less than the tissue paper she’d wrapped them in.
“Nope, not wearing these.” His lips curved into a sexy smile. “But you definitely will before I rip them off you again.”
Friday night, exhausted, coming home hours late from his shift—a full moon on a Friday night always brought extra trauma and drama—Elias’ mood lifted immediately when he saw another envelope and note tacked to his door. He heard Penny and Chuck pacing and scratching at the other side of the door. Of course they’d gotten out again. The kid must have forgotten to lock the door again . He unstuck the envelope and note, then went inside to see what trouble they’d gotten into.
Coffee grounds, eggshells, and a torn-up coffee filter all over the kitchen floor. Per usual, Chuck looked guilty as hell while Penny spun in circles, hoping to charm her way out of trouble.
“Yup. Full moon drama. Guys, I am taking up Shane’s suggestion of obedience classes at Watchdog for the two of you.”
On top of the day he’d just had, Elias should’ve been pissed. But the thought of what might be in the envelope cured him of that. He quickly cleaned up the mess, declining ‘help’ from Chuck, then read the note:
Dear Hostage Negotiator,
You drive a hard bargain, so I’m forced to send you a second hostage. This time, I’m including proof that said hostage does truly belong to me. Since you’ll probably refuse to wear this hostage as well, I guess I’ll just have to wear them both—if I get them back. How’s that for incentive?
See you at the hostage swap tomorrow. Say 10:00?
Your Shameless Clothesnapper,
Wren
Only one photo this time, but it was a doozy. Wren from the waist up, lying back against a pile of pillows, lazy smile on her face, eyes at half-mast. She wore a gauzy top that plainly showed a lacy bra underneath, the same emerald color as the panties.
And again, at the bottom of the envelope he found a tissue paper-wrapped bundle. Elias admired the bra before placing it on his dresser beside the pair of panties.
Then he got to work on a reply.
Dear Clothesnapper,
I have received the second hostage and taken it into custody. They are resting comfortably in an undisclosed location until
“Until I can get you back into them,” he said out loud.
an agreement is met tomorrow. Unless you’re busy stealing someone else’s clothing (and I hope you aren’t) feel free to come earlier than 10:00. Breakfast is at 8:00, just saying.
Yours. Just yours,
Elias