Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security #2) - Marie James Page 0,44
hands between us until the elderly woman takes a step back. “You’re going to crush her.”
“Look at you,” she grunts, her hands cupping both sides of my face. “Now I can see why he’s been hiding you. Such beauty needs to be protected.”
“Nana,” Wren groans, his hands covering his eyes. His cheeks turn pink, and I swear this man blushing is my new favorite thing.
“Don’t Nana me, young man. You said you weren’t dating anyone.”
Ouch.
“And then I find you with a date to this beautiful wedding.”
See? Wedding dates are a big deal. At least I thought they were, but then again, Wren is a computer nerd and may not be aware of the significance of an invite. The guilt of pressuring him into asking me here rears its ugly head once again.
“It’s new,” Wren informs her as she takes a step back, her eyes never leaving mine. “Please don’t run her off.”
The pleading in his tone makes my heart sing.
“Run her off?” She swats at his chest like he’s an annoying fly. “Will you come to Sunday brunch?”
I meet Wren’s eyes, and the look marring his face earlier that made me want to run away is no longer around. A smile plays on his lips, and he must sense my eyes there because he rolls them between his teeth. Her invite feels like a test, and he’s not giving me a single hint as to how I’m supposed to respond.
I go all-in. “I’d love to come to Sunday brunch.”
She squeals in delight, clapping her frail hands together. Wren’s smile breaks free, and I’m fairly certain I made the right choice.
“Mrs. Nelson.”
Her eyes go wild as she looks past me. “Absolutely not!”
She turns on her heel and scurries away. I watch in awe as the woman, who can’t be a day younger than eighty, moves faster than most fifty-year-olds.
“She fucking hates me.”
I look over to Finnegan who has refreshed his drink. He’s watching Nana scurry past the gift table and disappear behind a door on the other side of the room.
“She doesn’t hate you,” Wren assures him. “She just thinks you’re a warlock.”
“A warlock?” I ask, my smile wide.
“His hair.” Wren waves a dismissive hand in front of his friend.
“Ah. I see. The curse of the ginger.”
Finnegan huffs before walking away muttering about batty old women and discrimination over something he can’t control.
The night continues, and I somehow manage to let the happiness around me seep in, blocking out most of the doubt that is always threatening to creep in. I dance with Wren, who I discover isn’t perfect after all considering my need for steel-toe boots and Tylenol after we shuffle off the dance floor.
“Are you going to make an old lady sit all alone?” Nana says, reappearing only after Finnegan made a hasty exit.
“Do you mind?” Wren asks.
“Such manners,” his nana praises.
“Try not to step on her toes,” I tell him with a smile.
He presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss right there in front of his grandmother and every one of his friends. The doubts threatening disappear altogether, and as I watch his grandmother stare up at that man as if he hung the moon, I finally convince myself that Wren Nelson is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
My bliss ends the second I get a notification ping on my phone. I wouldn’t normally have my cell in the pocket of my fabulous dress at such an event, but my online research was drawing close to a resolution before I left my apartment earlier. My need to keep the money Jones paid me for this job forced me to keep it close to me.
I frown, looking down at my phone and swiping through several programs to reveal what the notification entailed.
“Excuse me,” I tell Brooks, Wren’s friend that’s sitting beside me trying to schmooze his way into one of the bridesmaid’s bed for the night.
He nods in my direction as I make a beeline for the lobby of the swanky hotel that is hosting the party.
The information revealed on my phone makes my blood run cold.
I hail a cab and climb inside without so much as a consideration of telling Wren where I’ve gone. If the information is correct, and I’ll verify that once I get back to my apartment, I’m going to have to say more than goodbye for the night.
Cold sweat begins to run down my back as the taxi approaches my building. I pay and climb out, thanking my luck when