“Then I guess I’m not going anywhere.”

As her cheeks filled with color and she looked away, he didn’t care that she didn’t believe him. Because, while they were just words, and she was used to words with no promise in them, he was about to show her he meant business.

He’d been waiting a very long time to do just that.

“Ready to get out of here?” he asked, throwing some money on the table with a hefty tip since Wren had made a bit of a mess.

Cleaning up the rice that fell off the plate, she laughed. “Yeah, but man, I’m messy.”

“Which is why I left a big tip.”

She continued to laugh as she scooted out of the booth to where he waited for her. Once she was beside him, they headed out. “So, two tomorrow? At the courthouse?”

“Yeah, do you want me to pick you up?” he asked as they walked toward her car.

“No, ’cause I’ll have to go back to work,” she said, obviously immersed in thought. “That’s okay, right?”

He nodded. “It’s fine. We can have dinner to celebrate. If you want.”

“I mean, I love food,” she said as they reached her car. Turning to look at him, she shrugged her shoulders. “Did you want to go back to my house?”

He eyed her. “To pack?”

“Ugh, no. I’m too tired for that, but not for other things,” she hinted, and he shook his head.

“No, you need to go home and get some rest.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Did you just turn me down?”

He smiled. “I did.”

“Rude.”

“You’ll live.”

“My ego—”

“Is fine,” he answered for her. Though his cock was begging to go home with her, he knew it was a bad idea. He wanted this to mean something, not just be another hookup she’ll be able to throw away.

“So, yeah, tomorrow.”

He nodded, taking a step toward her, his hands moving to grasp her hips. “Tomorrow,” he said, biting his lip as his eyes zoned in on hers.

She swallowed hard, her eyes swirling with desire. “Are you sure?”

“About tomorrow? Or about going home with you?”

“Both.”

“Yes,” he answered simply before leaning in and capturing her lips with his own. She leaned into him, and his hands slid along her back, holding her in place as she drew the kiss out, her tongue playing hard against his. His whole body wanted her, and he felt like a complete idiot for pulling away and putting space between them, but he knew things would go right where they shouldn’t if he didn’t.

“Your kisses say something else.”

He chuckled, running his hand down his face. “I have no control over my body.”

“Obviously, you do,” she said as he backed away.

“Goodnight, Wren.”

She scoffed as she shook her head. “Night, Jenny.”

They shared one last heated grin as he got into his car, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His body was shaking and his heart was beating out of control, but he knew he did the right thing. She was reverting to what she knew best. Keeping it to just fucking, and he wasn’t going to let her do that. This was real. Yes, he did the right thing by sending her home. Alone.

Didn’t he?

Wedding day. Let’s do this.

Wren was getting married.

Married.

To Jensen fucking Monroe.

Yeah. Married.

Wren. Married. To. Jensen. Fucking. Monroe.

Fuck, she was getting married today.

To Jensen!

Glaring at her computer screen, Wren saw her face was wrinkled to the max, and she looked like she had to poop. Not very sexy, but she couldn’t actually wrap her head around what she was about to do in a matter of hours. She understood that she wanted this, that she had asked him, but when she did that, she’d thought it was going to be easy peasy, lemon squeezy. But now it was fucking hard. It wasn’t a simple marriage anymore. No, now it was real.

Well, Jensen wanted it to be real.

Damn it.

Running her hands down her face, she inhaled a harsh breath as she begged her heart to slow down even a little bit. Just a tad so she didn’t feel like she was about to pass out. Or worse, have a panic attack. Pushing her shoulders back, she sat up straighter, staring at her screen as she chewed on her lip.

“You’re going to be a married woman.” The words seemed foreign. “Mrs. Monroe. Or maybe Mrs. Lemiere-Monroe. No, Jensen is old-fashioned. He’d want me to take his name. Yeah. So, okay. Hi, I’m Wren Monroe! Okay, girl, let’s be honest, you don’t even talk like that. Too cheerful.” She swallowed hard, wiggling her nose at her reflection. “Hello, I’m Wren Monroe. My husband is Jensen Monroe, the goalie for the Nashville Assassins. We’re having a baby, a little boy.”

Well, it didn’t sound that bad. Actually believable. Go her.

Who was she kidding? She was a fraud. She didn’t believe anything that came out of her mouth. But that wasn’t even what was bothering her the most. She still didn’t understand why he didn’t come home with her. She basically put her vagina on a silver platter, presenting it to him, and he just told her to go home and get rest. What the heck! Did he not want it? He seemed to want it, especially when he kissed the stuffing out of her. Yet, he didn’t want to come home with her.

It was weird. This was weird.

She was really doing this.

Dropping her head to her desk, she took in a deep breath before looking at her little belly. “Kiddo, we’re getting married today.” When he kicked, Wren smiled. “Well, at least one of us is excited.”

When her phone sounded, she sat up as Leah said, “Ms. Lemiere, there is a call for you on line one. They said it was about the tube steak you ordered?”

Her face wrinkled. “I didn’t order any tube steak.”

“That’s what I assumed, but he was very persistent in speaking to you before your next client.”

“Weird. Okay, thanks,” she said, but just when she pressed line one, it hit her.

Wells.

“Crap.”

“Yup! Gotcha,” her brother cheered, and she closed her eyes, leaning on her hand.

“You suck.”

“I rock, and you know it.”