A nip of Saint’s teeth brings me back to him, and the kiss he lays on me breaks open my soul in the sweetest way. He cups my face in his big hands.
Those hazel eyes always seem to tell me everything I need to know, but his breath is a rumble across my mouth. “Thank god for you, Wren. My perfect, strong, beautiful wife.”
Happiness leaks from me, and I fall into hysterical giggles when he reaches behind me to switch the washing machine on.
EPILOGUE: SIN
It’s too fucking bright in here. White tiles make my shoes squeak with every step. Pastel colors surround me. Racks upon racks of tiny clothes and plush toys.
There’s absolutely no danger in here, and it has me on edge more than when I’m being shot at.
I feel naked without my gun at my hip, although Wren couldn’t convince me to leave my backup at home—concealed as it is. Nor my knives. I’ll be damned if I get taken unawares without a weapon. That’s a recipe for death.
My hands wring the handle of the shopping cart, already half full with bottles and blankets and an oversized pink teddy bear.
Wren turns in the aisle ahead of me, those green eyes flashing brighter than her smile. Pressure expands in my chest. She’s absolutely radiant. Happy. The way she cradles her baby bump in one hand softens my agitation.
Nothing here will hurt her.
I roll my shoulders, working through the tension as I follow her to another rack of baby clothes. She doesn’t shrink at the glower I give her.
Not that I’m upset with her. I’m just out of place. My tattoos feel garish against the soft fabrics.
I wait for her to flick through the hangers, watching her my only solace. Even though I’d rather be behind her, cradling our baby in my arms and losing myself in the feeling of her against my chest.
Her gaze lifts to mine, calculating, before she rounds the rack and grabs my hand. “Leave the cart there. No one’s going to steal it.”
I grunt but allow her to pull me deeper into the sea of baby clothes. She doesn’t let go of my hand as she continues to browse. The way her touch anchors me is always a surprise. I spent so much of my life without any real attachments, other than my brothers at Sanctuary.
But Wren…
She’s a whole new world to me. Something I never knew I needed.
Shifting to stand behind her, she lets me do as I’ve been daydreaming, cupping her belly in my hands and lifting the small weight. Her soft moan is pure pleasure. Relief.
I never thought of how taxing growing a baby is, but moments like this has me sending silent thanks to my mom for it.
Somehow, Wren has changed parts of me I never had any hope for. When she relaxes back into my chest, allowing me to support her…my love for her seems to double. Triple. Quadruple.
Her soft giggle accompanies the way I rock her in place and scent her skin.
She holds up a onesie that saysMy fingers may be small, but I’ve got Daddy wrapped around them.
I snort a laugh against her neck. “Sounds about right. If she’s anything like her momma.”
Wren turns to plant a chaste kiss on my mouth, and it’s hard not to linger.
The moment is interrupted by Saint and Doc’s raised voices by the cribs. They’ve argued about absolutely everything.
“We need the safest one. No compromise,” Saint says, tone authoritative and broking no argument.
Not that it stops Doc. “Actually, this one has the best pediatric recommendations for spinal alignment.”
My laughter is silent, but it shakes along with Wren’s.
“Those two are going to be a problem for the next three months, aren’t they?” She pulls a little frilly dress from the rack and holds it up.
“If you think they’re going to stop once the baby is born, you’re mistaken, princess.”
