In the Crease Page 34


She shrugged. “No reason we should bring all my crap.”

His expression didn’t change, his gaze intent on hers. “Yes, we should. We’re moving in together.”

“Yeah, but—”

His eyes stopped her words. They were almost challenging, and she didn’t get what was going on. Why would she move her whole apartment… But then it dawned on her. “Wait, was this part of your terms?”

“It is.”

“So, you want to really do that? Live together?”

“Yeah.”

“And make love.”

He quirked his lips. “Yes.”

She took in a deep breath and let it out through her nose. She could do this. “I’m pregnant.”

He smiled. “I’m aware.”

“My body—”

“Moving on,” he demanded, and she rolled her eyes. While it was kind of sweet that he wouldn’t let her bad-mouth herself, it was also quite annoying.

“Then boxes it is. But if this doesn’t work out, you’re moving me back in to my apartment.”

“Well, then it will work even better than expected ’cause I hate moving crap.”

“Me too,” she agreed as she started to stuff her face once more.

“Also, can you see about taking off the week before the week you’re taking off for the wedding?”

She looked up, confused. “Why?”

“I’m going home for the week before to see my family and have my day with the Cup. I want you to be there.”

She lit up. “Yeah, of course. I’ll— Oh, we’ll be a married couple to your parents.”

He smiled. “Yeah, just like with your family and at home—our home.”

She sucked her teeth. “But that’s my family. The point of this.”

“No, the point of this is to make something better out of the situation we were given.”

She blinked. “You don’t have to, though.”

“You’re right. I want to.”

“That makes me nervous.”

“Well, it does me too, but it’s a part of it.”

“Okay, yeah, um… I’ll work it out, just get me the dates.”

“I’ll text them to you tomorrow.”

“Great,” she said as she took another bite of her meal, her mind going crazy. She knew they were doing this, she was in, but she didn’t realize she’d have to do it in front of his family. They were such good, amazing people. Not that her family wasn’t, but it would be easier to pretend with them because they were holding her money. With his family, it was different. They were kind. They would love her as their own. They’d love the baby. She would love them even more.

And Jensen.

This was getting complicated.

As she picked at her rice, he cleared his throat. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up, shrugging. “A lot to process.”

Licking his lips, he reached out, taking her hand in his. “I understand that, Wren, but I’ll always be there for you.” She swallowed hard as he commanded her gaze. “I won’t ever leave you, unless you tell me you don’t want me.”

Man, she felt stupid for not believing him, but when had anyone ever stood beside her? Other than her family? Yeah, that was it. While, yes, he was family, she just couldn’t believe he would. Call it a mental flaw, but she simply couldn’t grasp that he would want to. “You know I’m me and you’re you, right?”

His brow arched as he laid down his fork. “Yeah, I’m aware, but enlighten me on what you mean.”

She glared and he smiled. “Don’t get sassy, mister.”

“My apologies.”

“Anyway, I mean, you’re Jensen Monroe, supermodel-hot hockey goalie guy, and you can have anyone. I mean, anyone. Just wear a sign that says ‘Looking for a chick who wants to do me,’ and they’ll line up.”

“But I don’t want a chick just to do me. I want a wife, I want a family, and guess what? You need a husband and a father for your child, so, hey, here I am. Willing and wanting.”

“Jenny, really—”

“I thought this was decided. Why are we circling back around? You’re stuck with me,” he said, kissing the back of her hand before taking a big bite of his taco. When he glanced up, she was sure he saw that she was gaping at him. “What?”

“I’m me.”

He nodded. “I know. So?”

“I’m sort of fat and frumpy, and I’ve got this mean streak, and it’s gonna take me a while to lose the baby fat because I like food—”

“Let me stop you right there, please.”

Dropping his fork, he scooted out of the booth. “What are you doing?”

“Coming to you,” he said simply before sitting beside her and taking her face in his hands. “Let me tell you something, and we’re gonna squash this real quick, okay?”

Her eyes were wide, and man, he smelled so damn good. Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Okay?”

“I don’t care about any of that, unless you’re deliberately unhealthy. Then together we’ll give up the bad foods and enjoy other healthy foods. I’ll work out with you if you want. I’ll be there for you because that’s my job as your husband and because I want to.” Her eyes started to water as he held her gaze. “I am not Douche One, Two, Three, Seven, Nine, or Ninety-Nine. Okay? I’m Jensen, your husband, and I will never make you feel less than perfect, because that’s what you are in my eyes. Do you understand me?”

She blinked. What else could she do? Who said things like that? Who held someone’s face like that while looking into their eyes as if they were the only one in the room? Who, with each word, made it obvious he meant the words like they were his last? No one, and she meant no one, had ever in her life talked to her like that.

But Jensen did.

At that moment, she realized he was way more than just a fake husband. Even though he had implied that from the beginning, she had thought he was just going for an easy lay or something along those lines. But staring into his eyes, she was starting to realize this wasn’t a game Jensen Monroe was playing to help her.

He was playing to win her.

She wasn’t sure how the hell she was supposed to stay strong against that.

Prev Next