Chapter 17: Chapter 17

LANCE

Wren’s body relaxes and her breathing deepens almost instantly. I still feel euphoric and am struggling to calm my racing thoughts, so I lie awake for several minutes.

I can hardly believe I’m here, holding Wren in my arms in my bed.

Two years ago, I was holding Emma in bed, never once feeling the complete desire to make her happy like I do with Wren.

Two months ago, I was lying here alone, nursing a broken body and heart, wondering if I’d always be alone.

And just two days ago, I was dreaming about her, utterly terrified that Emma had destroyed any chance I had to get closer to Wren. It angers me to think about it even now.

I still care for Emma obviously but her controlling nature and constant need for the spotlight exhausts me. I was nothing more than another accessory to her.

It was always Emma’s world and I was just living in it. Looking back, I can’t believe I stayed under her spell for as long as I did.

Never again.

I snuggle in closer to Wren, deciding I’m done giving Emma any more space in my thoughts. No, I need to focus on what is in front of me. Or rather, ~who~ is in front of me.

Finally, Wren’s heartbeat lulls me to sleep.

***

I wake up to Wren gasping and Puck barking furiously downstairs. Wren moves to jump out of bed but I hold her back.

“Stay here,” I say as I grab a baseball bat from my closet and slowly go downstairs in my boxers.

Puck has stopped barking but he’s looking out the window beside the front door with his tail sticking straight up.

In the distance I see red taillights speeding down our driveway, but I can’t make out anything else about the vehicle.

“You okay, buddy?” I ask, scratching Puck’s head. He whines and gives my hand a lick.

My phone buzzes behind me. I walk up to my phone and see eight missed calls. My pulse immediately quickens.

One call at 5:03 p.m. is from Emma. There’s a voicemail too. The rest of the calls are every hour or so from an unknown number. I click the voicemail and hold the phone to my ear.

~“Lance, I just wanted to apologize. Clearly you need more time and I’m prepared to give it to you. Please let me know if you ever want to talk. I—I love you. I always will. Bye, Lance.”~

My anger swells up inside my chest. She is still playing her manipulative games. And who the fuck is sneaking around the farm at night? Could it be her? What would she hope to accomplish by doing that?

I tap out a reminder to myself to check the security footage in the morning. I sigh and lock my phone, making sure to place it face down.

I take some aspirin for my aching back and hip. Being with Wren was everything I wanted, but my body is out of practice and letting me know.

I fill up a glass of water, grab Puck’s new dog bed, and motion for him to follow me. He knows exactly what I’m saying and trots up the staircase to my room.

I go back into my bedroom and see a worried-looking Wren hugging her knees to her chest.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, no big deal. I brought him up for you.”

She smiles as Puck comes in and jumps up on the bed to greet her.

I toss the dog bed on her side of the bed. Wren hugs Puck then asks him to lie down, which he does immediately.

“You sure everything is okay? That was an alerting bark, I’m sure of it,” she says.

I nod reassuringly. I notice how shaken she is as she takes the glass of water from me.

“Are you okay? Come here.” I scoop her up and hold her to me. “Everything’s fine, I promise.”

The last thing I want to do is worry her, but I can’t help but feel like everything is not, in fact, fine.

***

The next morning, I wake up to an empty bed. I get up and throw a shirt and sweats on before heading downstairs. My body doesn’t hurt as much as it did, but it’s definitely stiff this morning.

I see Wren sipping coffee by the back door, looking at my bookshelf.

“Good morning,” I say as I approach her.

She looks at me and smiles. “Morning.”

I take the cup out of her hands, place it on a table, then wrap my arms around her and pull her in for a kiss.

She tastes so good. It’s all I can do not to peel her clothes off and explore her body again.

She giggles when I pull away.

“Wow, what was that for?”

“I was worried you had already left.”

“I wanted to wait till you got up,” she says, then picks up her coffee again. “You have a lot of books.”

“Yeah, I sorta renewed my love of reading when I was recovering. Turns out sleeping, eating, and therapy only takes up so much of the day.”

“What were your injuries?”

“Gosh, too many to count. I think the main ones were the brain hematoma, broken back, and a broken femur,” I say.

“Wow,” she says, shaking her head. “Sounds painful.”

I shrug. “I wouldn’t recommend it, for sure.”

She pauses and I resist the urge to touch her again. I don’t want to come on too strong.

“Who lives there?”

I look where she’s pointing and see the log cabin my grandpa built for my parents to live in when they first got married.

“Grant lives there now. My grandpa built it when my mom was pregnant with me.”

“Wow, how many buildings are on this property?”

“A lot. This land has belonged to my family for several generations,” I say.

She sets her cup down and turns to me.

“I should get going,” she says.

“What? Why?”

“I need to do laundry.”

“Do it here. I have these things called a washer and dryer. I also have a bathtub if you want to do it your way,” I tease her.

She laughs. “No, I don’t…” She pauses.

“Don’t what?”

She sighs and fiddles with her sweater sleeve.

I reach over and lift her chin with my hand till she’s looking at me again.

“Wren...”

“I don’t want anyone to...think I’m just sleeping with my boss or that I’m getting any special treatment,” she says. I drop my hand.

“I know it sounds stupid, I just don’t want people making assumptions about me.”

I pull her in for another hug and kiss the top of her head.

“Unfortunately, people will always talk, especially around Bryxton. But I genuinely think people would be happy for me—for us,” I say.

She nuzzles into my chest, which feels so good.

“I’m just not used to this small, gossip town, everyone-knows-everyone-else’s-business thing. I’m used to anonymity,” she says.

“Sounds great,” I say.

“It is and it isn’t,” she says.

“Come back over tonight.”

She sighs then looks at me. “Okay.”