Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security #2) - Marie James Page 0,43

closest friends and my mind is in the gutter.

“You’re quiet.” I look to Wren, expecting to find a knowing smirk on his face, but he looks uncomfortable at best.

And there’s the guilt I was hoping wouldn’t rear its ugly head.

After getting off the game last night, after accepting the invitation to attend this wedding with him, I got lost in my own head.

It took three days for me to build the courage to ask him about the distance between us, about why he hadn’t initiated a revisit of what happened earlier in the week.

His answer was good enough, and I didn’t feel so left out of the loop when he explained he was busy helping everyone nail down final details of the wedding. I didn’t take him for the type to worry with flowers and decorations, but I don’t know everything about him either.

Then he invited me to come, and I didn’t sense any reluctance until I logged off for the night. By the time I woke up this morning, I’d convinced myself that it was a pity invite. Going by the look of unease on his face, I’m betting I was correct.

“I feel like I bamboozled you.”

The lines between his brows crease, and it would be adorable if my nerves weren’t shattered in tiny pieces.

“You didn’t want to invite me,” I explain, somehow gaining the courage to be truthful with him when I really just want to duck out and hide in my apartment until he forgets he ever met me.

“I did,” he assures me, his hand circling my waist before settling at the small of my back.

I want to lean into his touch. I want to look up at him and find sincerity in his eyes, but the disappointment of knowing I’ll discover irritation keeps my eyes lowered to his chest.

I shake my head, trying to keep those same feelings that popped up when he knocked on my door earlier from rising again. Wren in a t-shirt and distressed jeans was a sight of the sexiest proportions, but the man in a slim-fitting tux with fabric straining against muscles no computer nerd has the right to possess is downright devastating.

“I was afraid you’d say no.” His words are whispered, meant only for my ears, and I try my best not to overanalyze those as well.

I’m on a sinking ship, and I know it. I hate the way I feel right now. I hate the doubts and questions. I hate everything in this moment, including the lovesick couple with hearts in their eyes. And that makes me the biggest dick in the universe.

“I should—” I press my hands against his warm chest.

“You should listen to me.” In a move he’s perfected in such a short time, he crooks a finger under my chin and lifts it, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Weddings are a big deal. They’re romantic and force people to consider what their own happiness could look like.”

And this is where he tells me that’s just too much for him to consider where I’m concerned.

“I didn’t want you to freak out by being here. We just met, and things between us are… intense to say the least. But have no doubt that I want you here.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips.

“I want all of those things in your head.”

Oh shit.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m moving too fast. I didn’t want you here thinking of someone else because it’s too soon to consider the possibility of things between us.”

Who else would I even consider such happiness with? But he has a point. It is too soon, no matter how many times a day, thoughts of him infiltrate my mind.

“I’m glad—”

“Wren Douglas Nelson!” He stills as if frozen ice filled his veins. “Are you avoiding me?”

Wren turns, his fingers falling from my face, and we watch as a grey-haired woman in a striking champagne-colored dress approaches.

“Nana,” he grunts, a look of pure love mixed with the slightest hint of aggravation filling his features. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“So, you’re just purposely trying to hide this beautiful woman from me?” She swats him away when he leans down to kiss her cheek before shoving herself between the two of us. “I’m Nana.”

I get a smile ready, but it’s knocked away by force when she wraps her arms around me in a bear hug too tight for a woman of her age.

“N-nice to meet you,” I manage on a squeak.

“Nana, stop.” Wren wedges his

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