My lips trailed down Wren’s spine. She let out a sleepy little moan that had me grinning against her skin. “Morning.”
My voice was raspy, etched with exhaustion. Likely because Wren and I had lost ourselves in each other more times than I could count. As if we were trying to make up for all the time we’d lost. And when we’d both been too spent to continue, we’d slept tangled in each other.
“Need sleep,” she grumbled.
I couldn’t help my chuckle.
Wren flipped onto her back, not bothering to pull the sheet up. “I missed that sound.”
“My laugh?”
She nodded, her fingers ghosting over my throat. “I thought I’d have all your chuckles. That I’d know what it sounded like at every stage of life.”
Each word carved itself into my chest. I’d stolen so much from her. Those chuckles. Our life—the one we’d planned for so long.
I cupped Wren’s face, my thumb sweeping back and forth across her cheek. “Never stopped loving you. Not for a single second.”
I didn’t give a damn that it might be too soon. That Wren might not be ready to hear these words. Because she needed them. I might’ve royally screwed up, but it wasn’t from a lack of love.
The green in Wren’s eyes flashed as her fingers stilled. “You can’t say that.”
“Whether I say it or not won’t make it any less true.”
Wren snatched her hand back and pulled the sheet up to cover herself. “Don’t, Holt. Please, don’t make any promises.”
Promises she worried I’d never be able to keep. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear them out loud, but I’d give them to her silently. Inaudible prayers lifted into the air. And I’d give her actions—the strongest words of all.
I pulled Wren into my arms. “Okay. No promises. But no pulling away either.”
A little of the tension went out of Wren’s muscles at that. “I don’t know if I can do whatever this is.”
My fingers trailed through her hair, and I relished the silky feel of it. “Can you do it for today?”
She worried the side of her lip. “Yes.”
I pressed a kiss to the spot she was nibbling. “One day at a time. It’s all any of us can do.”
And I would use those days—every single second of each of them. I wouldn’t let Wren down. Not this time. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a mug of coffee, handing it to her.
She looked surprised for a beat as if she’d expected me to launch my case right then and there. “Thank you,” she said, pushing up against the pillows and taking a sip. “This is much better than when I make coffee.”
I grinned. “Pretty sure you burn coffee, too, Cricket.”
She scowled at me. “I do not.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Wren grabbed a pillow and smacked me with it. “Rude.”
I laughed. I wasn’t holding back on any of those chuckles. Not when Wren had been missing the sound. Leaning over, I brushed my lips across her temple. “Sorry. I will repay you with muffins.”
I handed her one from the nightstand.
Wren’s eyes widened. “This is warm.”
“It’s just a mix, but they’re damn good.”
She bit into it and moaned.
My shorts suddenly felt a little too tight.
“Chocolate chip is the best,” Wren mumbled around the muffin.
It was her favorite. How many times had I seen something I knew she loved and wished I could beam it to her? Now, I could.
I leaned back against the pillows. “How do you feel?”
She eyed me carefully. “Why do I have the feeling you’re not asking if I’m sore?”
I turned on my side, my fingers running up Wren’s blanket-covered leg, dipping between her thighs. “I want to know that, too. If I need to be taking care of you.”
Wren’s cheeks darkened to a deep shade of pink. “I’m fine.”
I kissed her softly. “Good. Want to know how your heart is, too.”
She was quiet for a moment, staring down at her muffin. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Wren looked up at me. “This wasn’t a coincidence.”
My mouth thinned into a hard line. “That would be extremely unlikely.”
Grief flared in her hazel eyes. “My mind keeps circling around to why. Who would want to go after the survivors? We’ve all already been through so much.”
God, I wanted the answer to both of those questions. Wanted it so I could wipe that person from the planet. “I don’t know, Cricket. I wish I did. Law is working on it, and I’m going to help him in any way I can.”
She nodded. “Does he have any leads?”
“I don’t think so. I was going to drive you to work and see if I could grab a few minutes with him.” I’d checked my phone this morning and there hadn’t been anything other than a text reading: Don’t let Wren out of your sight. Didn’t exactly give me the warm fuzzies.
Wren started to get up. “I’ll shower. We can go in early—”
I gave her arm a gentle tug, pulling her back to the bed. “We’ve got time. I need to talk to you first, and you need to eat. The last thing we need is you passing out.”
Wren grumbled something under her breath about overbearing alpha males but shoved a piece of muffin into her mouth. “Talk.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning. But that smile didn’t feel nearly as tempting when I thought about what came next. “We need to talk about your security.”
She stiffened. “All right.”
“I already ordered some basics from my friend, Cain, to outfit your property.”
“I thought you were waiting for my budget.”
“I was, but I knew I could send back whatever didn’t work with what you were comfortable spending.” That much was true. But I also knew that Cain would give me half the stuff for free if I needed it, so I could do some creative accounting.
“Fine. Do whatever you think is necessary. Just no cameras or motion sensors in the house. I really don’t need Shadow or me being blown sky-high.”
The husky appeared at the sound of her name, panting around a bone.
Wren arched a brow. “I’m not the only one being spoiled, I see.”
“Gotta work on both my girls.”
Wren’s expression softened at that before she forced her gaze back to the muffin. “Anything else?”
“No going anywhere alone right now, okay?”
She was quiet for a moment. “Do you think whoever this is will come after me?”
My chest constricted in a vicious squeeze. “It’s a possibility.” One I wasn’t about to let come to fruition.
“I won’t go anywhere alone.”
I hated the defeat in Wren’s voice. Weaving my fingers through hers, I squeezed. “It’s not forever.”
“I know. I don’t want to be stupid.”
I nodded and then released her to pull a few more items from the nightstand. “This is one of the personal alarms we give clients. Pull this pin here, and an alarm will sound that everyone within a two-block radius will hear.”
Wren toyed with the tiny key chain. “Handy.”
“I know you said you had a Taser, but it would make me feel better if you held onto this for a little while, too.”
I dropped the small pocketknife onto her lap. Wren stared at it, not moving an inch. The knife was worn, the engraving on the side practically rubbed off because I’d run my fingers over it so many times. Holt Hartley. Love you forever. Happy 18th Birthday. Love, Cricket.
“You kept it.”
It wasn’t a question, but it was begging for an explanation.
“It’s been everywhere I have. Wouldn’t go on a mission or job without it. It’s kept me safe more times than I can count. Now, it’s going to keep you safe for a little while.”
Wren swallowed as she looked up at me. “I’ll keep it for a little while.”
But it would be longer than that. Because even when she was safe and placed it back in my hands, I would still be here. And sooner or later, she would believe that forever was just a lifetime of a little whiles.
