In the Crease (Assassins Book 11)

by Toni Aleo

  “Good, now the reason I’m calling,” she said, clearing her throat. “You’re sure Wells isn’t upset we can’t come to the wedding?”

  Jensen laughed. “Yes, Mum, everyone knows Dad isn’t up to travel. It’s fine.”

  “I’ll send him lots of money.”

  “He’ll love that.”

  “And some glitter. Elaine said he wants doves with glitter or something.”

  “Of course he does,” Jensen said, shaking his head. His best friend was very eccentric and awesome, and shit, what if Wells hated him because of all this? “It’s fine, I promise.”

  “Okay, good. Are you sure I can’t help?”

  “Yes, Mum. Thank you.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yes,” he laughed, and she chuckled softly. Man, he missed her.

  “Fine, well, I’ll let you go, but call me if you need me.”

  “I always will.”

  “Good, I can’t wait to squeeze you!”

  “Me either, Mum,” he laughed as they said bye, and he hung up. Throwing his phone onto the bed, he looked down once more at his notepad and exhaled loudly.

  “Follow my heart,” he said aloud, which made Tricksie look up at him with her big brown eyes. “My heart leads to her.”

  And he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

  The following day, Wren leaned back in the plush chair as Brie set her with a look. Wren had somehow gotten wrangled into coffee, which she felt was a bit annoying. Brie was relentless when it came to getting information, but apparently, after their dinner, there was still more info to get. In Wren’s mind, though, Bradley didn’t exist, and the baby was given to her by the stork.

  “The stork did not impregnate you.” Brie glared as she leaned back in her own chair, not showing a bit but still wearing a shirt that claimed “Don’t eat watermelon seeds. This happens.” with an arrow pointing to nothing but her vagina, but Wren wasn’t going to be the one to point that out. “Tell me the truth.”

  “You don’t know him,” Wren said, frustrated since they had been on this subject for probably seven hours. “He doesn’t matter.”

  “Was he a boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “A friend?”

  “Kinda.”

  “And he didn’t want it?”

  “No, told me to get an abortion, tried to pay for it, and said if I keep it, he’ll deny it’s his.”

  “What a fucking fucker. I’ll kick him in the taco because there is no way he has a dick. Asshole.”

  Wren laughed. “You’re insane. You’ll never know him.”

  “Thank God.” Brie shot her a serious look. “And he better thank his lucky stars you aren’t telling anyone who it is because the boys would kill him dead.”

  “Oh, I know. He doesn’t deserve to get his ass kicked by them. They’re men, he’s scum.”

  “Agreed.”

  “He hasn’t even reached out, nothing.”

  Brie rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Such shit.”

  “Yeah, but whatever. I’m good. We’ll be fine.”

  Brie smiled, sitting up as she looked across the table, leaning down over her little cup of tea. “So, it’s a boy?”

  Wren’s lips curved as she nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Have you thought of a name?”

  She shook her head. “I just call him kiddo.”

  Brie beamed. “That’s nice.”

  “Yeah, but I might need to come up with something better. Kiddo Lemiere doesn’t really have a ring to it.”

  “This is true.”

  They shared as laugh before both sipping on their tea. Licking her lips, Wren glanced over at Brie. “I asked him. Jensen.”

  Brie nodded. “I know.”

  Her lips parted a bit because she hadn’t expected him to tell them that she had spoken with him. But then, Vaughn was his best friend. Before she could ask what was said, Rodney, Brie’s brother, came to the table. “I need twenty dollars.”

  Brie’s face twisted in confusion. “I just gave you twenty.”

  “I know, but I need more. I want to buy something for Phyllis.”

  “Rod, you’ve bought enough stuff for her.”

  “Brie, please,” he whined, and like Wren knew she would, Brie pulled out a twenty and gave it to him. “You rock, thanks!” Before he turned, though, he glanced to Wren. “Are you getting fat?”

  “Rodney!” Brie exclaimed.

  “What? She is!”

  Wren laughed. “I’m having a baby, Rod.”

  “Oh, cool. Brie’s having a baby too. She’s gonna get fat.”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  “But you look super pretty today.”

  “Thanks, Rod,” Wren laughed as he trotted away, and when she looked to Brie, she was beet red. “He’s like a Sour Patch Kid sometimes, huh?”

  “Seems that way,” Brie said, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  Wren waved her off. “It’s fine. How’s he sleeping?”

  “So much better since you recommended that new drug,” Brie said, an expression of relief covering her face. “He wasn’t doing well for a minute there.”

  “With Down syndrome, it’s tough. You can’t tell what’s the Down syndrome and what’s anxiety. Plus, I think he has a little more anxiety than what he’s letting the doctor in on too.”

  “I do too,” Brie agreed, leaning on her hands as she watched her brother buy mounds and mounds of candy. “But he’s doing so much better now. They’re saying we might be able to travel, so I think before the season starts, we’re gonna take him to Harry Potter World.”

  Wren beamed. “He’ll love that.”

  “I know. All three of us running around with cloaks and wands. I already told Vaughn he’s wearing one.”

  Wren laughed. “And he will because he loves you two.”

  Brie nodded happily. “I’ll be big and pregnant, but it will be fine.”

  “Yeah, you’ll have a blast.”

  “Will kiddo be here?”

  Wren swallowed hard. She hadn’t realized that. Before the season started, she’d be a mom. Holy shit. Breathing in deeply, she nodded. “September third.”

  “Wow. That will be here before we know it.”

  “Yeah,” she said nervously. It was cool when she didn’t talk about the little guy growing in her because she could pretend it wasn’t real. But once she did, anxiety ate at her core. Would she be a good mom? Would she suck? But more than any of that, it scared her that she would be doing it all alone. “Hopefully, I’ll have a husband by then.” Brie nodded as Wren watched her. Sipping on her tea, Wren looked over her cup to her friend and asked, “And so Jensen talked to you guys about our conversation?”

  Brie shook her head. “Don’t do that to me, please.”

  Wren’s face twisted. “Do what?”

  “Put me in the middle. I can’t tell you what they say, the same way I can’t tell them what you say.”

  “You told Vaughn about me being pregnant,” she pointed out with a smile. She wasn’t mad; she understood Brie’s loyalty to Jensen. He would do the same for her.

  “You didn’t tell me I couldn’t.”

  “So they told you not to tell me what was said?”

  Brie shrugged as she looked down. “Yeah.”

  “Wow. Jerks.”

  Brie scoffed as Wren shook her head. “Is he gonna do it?”

  “Wren…”

  “Sorry!” she said, holding her hands up. “But in your opinion, do you think he’ll do it?” When Brie just looked back at her, Wren glanced away. “Fine.”

  “Just be patient.”

  She shook her head. “I expected him to just say yes, and I’d be good. I didn’t think I’d have to wait.”

  “Wren, you’re asking a lot.”

  “And I offered him five million bucks! Plus, I’m pretty sure I lied for all of them a lot when they were younger. Like when they were all shitfaced drunk, and I told my mom they had food poisoning. And the
n I started acting like I was puking to make it seem like we all had it.”

  But Brie was just staring at her. “You offered him five million? Shit, Wren, I’ll marry you and be the father.”

  Wren laughed hard. “You’re silly.”

  “How much are you getting?”

  “A lot.”

  Looking a little awestruck, Brie shook her head. “Obviously. No wonder you’re doing all this.”

  “Yeah, it’s gonna set Wells and me up.”

  “Wow.”

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she laughed, and Brie smiled.

  “Really, though, no one has met me. I can so go do some of that special effects makeup and look like a guy. It would be easy peasy!”

  “You’re such a dork,” Wren snorted as her phone went off. Reaching into her bag, she pulled it out to see it was a text message from Jensen. Her heart picked up speed before she slid the notification over and read his message.

  Jensen: Can we meet? Today, if possible? I can come by your office or your place. I don’t want to do this in public, though.

  Shit. What did that mean?

  Hovering her fingers over the keyboard, she felt her heart beating so hard that it made her vision fuzzy. Brie was going on about growing a beard or something, but Wren couldn’t pay attention. She read the message once more and then swallowed hard before typing back.

  Wren: I have an opening at one, but it’s only for about thirty minutes.

  Jensen: That’s fine. I’ll see you then.

  Wren: Okay.

  She went to tuck her phone back into her purse but then paused, bringing it back up.

  Wren: Okay, I lied. I have a full hour, but I figured I’d need some time if you said no before my next client.

  Jensen: I’m not gonna say no.

  Oh! Yay!

  Jensen: But I’m not saying yes either.

  What? What the fuck?

  Wren: Oh, okay, so I guess I’ll see you in a bit.

  Jensen: Yup.

  Pursing her lips, she sucked in a deep breath as she started to gather her things. Brie looked up at her expectantly, and Wren exhaled. “Jensen is coming to my office to talk.”

  Brie nodded. “Cool.”

  “Though, I’m sure you already know what he’s going to say.”

  “Actually, I don’t. So call me later?”

  Wren glared. “I thought you knew!”

  “No, they talked, I listened, and then Jenny went to his room for like nine hours. No one knew what he was doing.”

  Wren thought that through. What in the world was going on? “Well, I guess I’m about to find out.”

  “Well, good luck, and don’t forget my offer.”

  Wren snickered. “I’m not kissing you with a fake mustache.”

  Brie held her hands up. “Then, no mustache. I can contour the shit out of my face to look like a dude.”

  Shaking her head, Wren sent a quick wave to Rodney before leaving the coffee shop. But the grin on her face was gone once she reached outside because in a matter of hours, she’d know what Jensen had meant.

  And she wasn’t sure she’d like it.

  Jensen was punctual, unlike the day before.

  The knock on her office door came right at one, and she called, “Come in.”

  He opened the door, and she swore she had to look away to keep from drooling. Though that only lasted a second before she glanced back up to drink him in. He was wearing a tee with fitted shorts that hugged his thighs and some sneakers. His head was covered by an Assassins ball cap before he pulled it off, tucking it into his back pocket the way he had done when they were kids. “Hey.”

  “Hey, come on in.” He nodded, coming toward her desk and to the seat she was pointing to. “Have a seat.”

  But he ignored her, coming around the desk to kiss her cheek softly. “You look pretty today.”

  Her lips curved. “Twice in one day. I must be on a roll.”

  He smiled. “Who else was complimenting you?”

  “Rodney, after he called me fat.”

  Jensen scoffed. “You’re not fat.”

  “I feel huge.”

  “You don’t look it,” he said simply, walking back around, but before he sat, he pulled out a little yellow sheet of paper, holding it loosely in his hands. He looked nervous, and he was chewing on his lip before he inhaled sharply. “You’ve done absolutely nothing with this office.”

  She laughed. “I have pictures of the people I love,” she said, pointing to her desk, and he shook his head.

  “Elli Adler’s office is a shrine.”

  She nodded. “I know. Maybe when I have the baby, I’ll be like her.”

  “I thought you hated the yellow in here.”

  “Oh, I do. I want to change it to white, but they won’t let me. Says it bores people,” she said with a grin.

  “Better than black, which I’m sure you’ve considered.”

  “So many times.”

  He laughed. “I remember when you painted your bedroom black. Man, Elaine was pissed.”

  “I thought she was gonna skin me alive.”

  “And then when she found out we helped, I feared I wouldn’t be fed.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, but you were.”

  “And you’re still alive.”

  “Thank God.”

  A silence fell between them as they both stayed locked in each other’s gaze, small smiles on their faces. “So, I’ll get to it,” he said suddenly, moving to the edge of his seat.

  She did the same, holding her breath as he unfolded the paper. As he ran his hand over his mouth, she said, “Okay.”

  He nodded. “So I basically hate all your terms.”

  Her brows came in as she let out the breath she was holding in a whoosh. She hadn’t expected him to say that. Sounding like there was a frog in her throat, she croaked, “Okay?”

  “So here are mine.” His hands were shaking, and he wouldn’t look at her as he started to read. “I want six months.”

  “Six months?”

  “You had said two weeks after the baby comes, that’s not okay with me. I want a full six months.”

  “For what?”

  “To make you fall for me.”

  When he looked up, she was sure he found her gawking at him. “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t want another failed marriage. If I do this, we do this for real. I want us to move in together, I want us to make love as husband and wife, and I want us to try to make this work.”

  Did he say make love? Her head cocked to the side, and then she started laughing. “You’re kidding. You’re funny. Wait…you’re not kidding?”

  “No. I’m serious.”

  “Jensen—”

  “If I’m going to lie to my second family, to my own family, I want it to be worth something.”

  She was flabbergasted. “I said fake husband, Jenny, not real.”

  “I understand that, but you’re asking someone who has been divorced before. I don’t want that again. If I’m going into this, I want it to be real. And if at the end it doesn’t succeed, at least I tried and you tried.”

  She could only blink, her mouth hanging open. “But we’re not into each other like that.”

  “Says who?” he asked, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I am extremely attracted to you. I have known you my whole life, and I…um…” He bit his lip and then shook his head. It was almost as though he was holding something back. “I feel this could work. At least, we should try for the baby’s sake.”

  Confused, she shook her head. She felt like everything was going a hundred miles a second and she was holding on for dear life. “What? For the baby?”

  “Are you sure the father is out of the picture?”

  Her voice was sharp. “Completely.”

  He nodded. “Then my last term is that you let me be the father.”

  Wren’s eyes widened. “I assume you mean not a fake father.”

  “Yes, I want to be th
e boy’s dad. I want him to grow up and think I’m his father. When he turns eighteen, we can tell him the truth if you want, but he would have my last name, and he would be mine.” His voice was strong, his gaze holding hers.

  Breathless, she could only stare at him, unsure why he would want this. “Why, Jensen? Why would you want to be the father of a kid who isn’t yours?”

  Looking down, he inhaled shakily before nodding his head and meeting her gaze once more. “Because not only is it your kid and a boy needs a father, but I can’t father children of my own.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Monroe, and we are unsure why, but your sperm count is void. You aren’t producing sperm, which is the reason you two are not successful in getting pregnant.”

  Jensen’s heart stopped as Ophelia clutched his hands, gasping loudly. Closing his eyes, he looked down as tears flooded the space behind his lids. Failure. Utter and disgusting failure racked his body. They had been trying for a baby for the last six months with no luck. Really trying. Ophelia was good, ready to go, and now they knew he was the issue.

  He couldn’t produce.

  Shit, was he even a man?

  “Can you fix it?” his beautiful wife asked. Jensen felt she knew he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t believe this. All they had ever spoken of since getting married was having lots and lots of kids. He wanted that. He wanted the kids, the dog, and the wife, along with the awesome career. He wanted it all, but now that was an unlikely goal.

  Looking over at her, he memorized her face. The dimple in her cheeks, her long blond hair, her pointy nose. Her eyes were a soft shade of hazel and really added to her face, but at that moment, her brow was furrowed, her eyes intent on the doctor.

  He understood. She was scared.

  So was he.

  “We can try some drug treatments, but I think I want to give it another six months. See if this is something that can fix itself. The human body is an amazing thing.”

  “But we’ve already waited six months,” she complained, and Jensen squeezed her hand.

  “And we can wait another,” he said simply, meeting her gaze as a tear ran down his cheek. He hated looking into her eyes and knowing he was the reason they couldn’t have babies. Did he think he would produce in the next six months? No, but that was because he hadn’t produced yet. They had been actively trying for six months, but they’d been having sex without protection for a year.