In the Crease Page 62
She looked over at him and let out a shaky breath. “Nervous.”
“So am I,” he admitted as he reached for the door. “But they’re excited to see us.”
She didn’t look sure of that as she got out and he did the same, going to the back for their luggage. Meeting him by the trunk, she ran her hands down her belly, fixing her shirt as she looked around. “What if she’s still mad? Your mom?”
He looked over at her as he lifted up one of her bags. “She wasn’t ever mad. She was just annoyed.”
She gave him a dry look. “Same damn thing.”
“I beg to differ, but either way, she won’t say anything. She isn’t one for confrontation.”
“When it comes to her son, she is just fine with confrontation. I’ve heard her go at it with your coach plenty of times. Remember how my mom would put her on speaker? Man, she would go off.”
Jensen’s mouth quirked. His mom was a firecracker when she needed to be. “That’s different. It wasn’t my wife.”
She pressed her lips together as she looked toward the house. “Still. Makes me nervous.”
Reaching out, he cupped her by the back of her neck before pulling her toward him. “We’re good, okay?”
Before she could answer, he pressed his lips into hers, and she stepped toward him willingly. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and his heart skipped a beat. At first, he wasn’t convinced by the list he had found. He knew how she was. She made lists, and most of the time, if she didn’t like the outcome, she would ignore it. But that was the second list that had to do with him, and he didn’t think she was ignoring it. It felt a little like a dream, but he really did think she was trying. That she was letting go and trusting him. It had only been a few days, but he swore he felt closer to her in that time than he had in the three weeks they had been together.
It was either that, or he was making it something it wasn’t.
He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t deny that he enjoyed the way she clung to him or leaned into him as she kissed him.
Pulling away, he kissed the side of her mouth and then her nose. “Everything is going to be fine.”
She nodded as her eyes met his, and damn it, she was beautiful. Her eyes were so green, that pretty makeup on her eyes that made his insides feel all crazy. Her lips were glossed up, and her hair was down in big curls along her shoulders. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a long, very thin long-sleeved shirt that hugged her belly in the most delectable way. As much as he wanted to wait out the sexual connection between them, he had to admit he was struggling more and more lately.
He wanted her.
Every single part of her.
Exhaling hard when she turned out of his arms and looked back at the house, he closed his eyes and prayed that his mom didn’t say anything. Surely, she wouldn’t, but his mom was a mama bear to the extreme. Shutting the trunk, he carried the bags while Wren walked beside him toward the house. Before they could even step onto the walkway, his mother was yelling out, “Mon chou!”
His mom was wearing one of her trusty house dresses, and her dark hair that had a wide silver streak through the middle was up in a big bun. She had aged since he had seen her last, but he still thought his mother was beautiful. Wren looked up and plastered a grin on her face as his mom made her way down the stairs to them, wrapping Wren up first. “Look at you! Ah! My grandbaby!” Taking Wren’s belly in her hands, she cried out as she started speaking very quickly in French. Wren’s eyes widened as she looked back at Jensen, and he smiled, “She said he’ll be as big as I was. I was eleven pounds.”
Wren’s mouth dropped. “No wonder you had only one.”
His mom laughed as she nodded. “You have no clue.”
“You’re a strong woman, Mrs. Monroe.”
His mom waved her off quickly. “Mum.” She took Wren’s face in her hands. “I’m so happy to see you. So beautiful,” she gushed, kissing Wren’s cheeks before hugging her tightly.
“You too,” Wren somehow muttered between kisses before his mother was on him, knocking the bags out of his hands. But his grin was unstoppable. As he held his mother, his eyes fell shut as she cried into his shoulder. It has been so long since he had seen her, at least eight months. She felt the same, crying in French as she held him, kissing him over and over again.
“You’re too skinny.” He scoffed as she lifted his shirt. “You don’t feed him, Wrenya?”
“Wren,” he corrected and she nodded.
“That’s what I said,” she said with a look before shaking her head, and he knew not to correct her. “You’re hungry, let’s go eat.”
He laughed as she turned, wrapping her arm around Wren before leading her toward the house. They didn’t get far before his father was hollering at them. “Who is that? Is that my son? His wife?” Jensen’s stomach dropped as he picked up the bags again. Surely, his father hadn’t forgotten what he looked like. “Come closer, my sight is going.”
Wren looked back, surprised since they both thought it was only his legs that were failing, and Jensen found himself unable to breathe before his mother shook her head. “Stop it, Ant.”
His father laughed loudly as he waved them off. “I kid. Come here, son. I really can’t walk, and I’ve missed you.”
Rolling his eyes, Jensen made it up the stairs swiftly before dropping his bags and wrapping his arms around his father. He was in his wheelchair, his legs bandaged up as he clung to Jensen. “My boy,” he muttered into his shoulder, hugging him tightly. Jensen’s eyes burned as he held his father. It had been so long, longer than seeing his mother, and he regretted that. He should have come sooner. After smacking Jensen’s back, his father pulled away and grinned up at him. His face was sunken in from the massive amount of weight he had been losing, but his dark brown eyes shone like he wasn’t a day over sixteen. “Too long, you know.”
“I know,” Jensen agreed before he gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek.
“Now move. Let me see this wife of yours, Lord!” After he pushed Jensen out of the way playfully, his father widened his eyes as he shook his head. “Man, you married up, didn’t ya?”
Jensen chuckled as he looked back at Wren, who flushed deeply. With a wink, he said, “I sure the hell think so.”