Page 49 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

“I don’t know if you’re trying to pacify me or irritate me more.”

“I guess it depends on how you look at life.” Millie took a bite of her ice cream before adding, “If my dreamy ex-boyfriend was hurt that I snuck out on him, I’d be giddy about the prospect, but you run away to hide with your best friend and a couple pints of ice cream to avoid your feelings.”

“And what are my true feelings?” Wren asked.

“Your mom and dad had a shit relationship, and it fucked you up.”

Millie’s blunt delivery stung like a slap, and Wren winced. “That is just one of many reasons why I know relationships don’t work. Choosing to go see my mom showed me why they should be avoided at all costs.”

“Please, the only reasons you went and saw your mom all those years ago was ’cause you happened to be going to college an hour from where she lived and your dad told you not to.”

Wren smirked. “Are you saying I’m rebellious?”

Millie huffed. “I am saying that if somebody said you were too chicken to jump into a burning building, you would do it just to spite them.”

“Depends on how many floors the burning building had and if the firemen had set up the blowup for jumpers down below.” Wren caught Millie’s wide-eyed stare and shrugged. “What? I’m not suicidal.”

“Thank heaven for that,” Millie muttered, setting her ice cream on the side table before turning Wren’s way with a solemn expression on her face. “But seriously, with the amount of emotional baggage you’ve got between your mom walking out and your dad being overbearing, it’s no wonder you’re hesitant to get involved with anyone. And honestly, the way your dad was with you and Sam was not my favorite moment of his. I like your dad, but—”

“Millie,” Wren broke in with a laugh. “You do not have to defend yourself for liking my dad. He has always been nice to you. I understand.”

“No, I’m saying I thought what he did was pretty jerky.” Millie reached out and squeezed Wren’s hand. “If my dad did something like that, threatening my boyfriend with jail time, I would have lost it.”

“Thank you,” Wren said, squeezing Millie’s hand back before releasing it. “But that’s in the past, and I’m over it. Back to the matter at hand . . .” Wren sat forward with her elbow on her knee and her chin in her palm, mumbling, “What do I do about Sam?”

“It seems like you already took care of that situation by ghosting him. As long as you don’t hit him up for a third round of fun, he should get the message.”

Wren bit her lip, knowing Millie was right, but she couldn’t help wanting him, thinking about him. Maybe she could explain everything to him, and he’d be down to keep things casual?

You are trying to get pregnant! You are going to be someone’s mother, which means you do what is best for everyone and not just your loins.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” Millie asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

“Just that you’re right. Letting things rest is what’s best for everyone.”

Chapter Fifteen

It was close to ten on Monday night, and normally Inks stayed open until eleven, but Sam wasn’t feeling it tonight. He had woken up in the middle of the night on Saturday to discover Wren was gone and hadn’t left a note or message. He’d texted her yesterday morning and several times throughout the day with no response. He knew she probably had to work today, but that didn’t explain the silence yesterday. Was she ghosting him because he’d spooked her?

He was finishing putting the instruments into the sterilizer and turning on the machine when the bell on the shop’s front door rang. He went out to greet his visitor and saw Wren in a puffer jacket and jeans standing inside the door.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey,” he said, noticing her normally slicked-back hair was hanging in loose waves around her shoulders. “Are you finally getting that tattoo you never wanted?”

Wren laughed. “No.”

“I can’t say I’m not surprised to see you. I figured after you didn’t respond to my texts, I was getting the final brush-off.”

“No, I just . . . I needed to think about what I needed to say.” Wren glanced around the room nervously, her gaze focusing on everything but him. “This is a nice place.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Alright, man, I’m headed out—” Mitch stopped talking when he spotted Wren, glancing at Sam as he finished shrugging into his jacket. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“I’ve got this, Mitch.”