In the Crease (Assassins Book 11)
Page 25
Wren looked away bashfully as her hands came up to hold her belly. It was a warm day, so she was wearing a pair of shorts and an Assassins tee with Jensen’s number on the back. It was his and was massive on her shoulders, but her belly fit perfectly. “Thanks. I feel huge, but Jensen has made me go walking every day we’ve been here, and he won’t let his mom stuff me full of her amazing French cuisine.”
Elli scowled. “That’s rude.”
“That’s what I said!”
“I’ll fire him for you.”
Wren laughed out loud at that. “We both know you won’t.”
She exhaled hard. “Not after my poor Tate.”
“I know. I talked to him last night and then Audrey too for over two hours,” Wren added, shaking her head. “I’m still torn up over it.”
“It’s for the best, I know that, but I love that guy.”
“I do too, he’s a good man.”
“He is, but I think he’s going to be on the goalie team, which will be excellent. I just need him to get better.”
“He’ll do awesome.”
“He will,” Elli agreed, squeezing Wren’s hand. “Thank you for everything you do for my boys.”
“That’s what you hired me for.”
Elli waved her off, though. “But you go above and beyond, like I do. You care, and it means the world to me.”
“Well, thank you,” Wren said, her lips curving. She leaned into Elli. “I have a great boss.”
“Damn right, you do,” she teased and then laughed before shaking her head. “But really, Wren, I can’t get over how good you look! At Lucy’s party, you looked like a deer in the headlights. But today? So damn happy.”
Wren looked away, a grin pulling at her lips as her gaze fell on Jensen. He tackled a little kid, carrying him over his head, laughing loudly with all the kids that were around him. He was a natural out there, and she hadn’t seen him smile so much in one hour as he did when he was out there with those kids. Wren’s heart sped up as her hands ran along her own child growing inside of her. She admitted, “I have a damn good reason to be happy.”
“Yeah, you do,” Elli agreed as she leaned into her. “He’s a damn fine man.”
“Wrenya!”
Looking over to where Antoine was calling her, Wren held up a finger. “Jensen’s dad needs me. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Give me a hug in case I miss you before I leave,” Elli said before they embraced.
“Thanks so much for coming.”
“Of course, see you soon.”
Sending her one last smile, Wren headed toward where Antoine was manning the scoreboard in a huge tent since he didn’t do well in the sun. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Wrenya, sorry for calling for you like that, but can you get me a water? Emma is off running her mouth with all these people and forgot that I need to be watered.”
Patting her father-in-law’s arm, she nodded. “Of course. I’ll be back.”
“You’re the best,” he called, though it was hard to hear over all the laughter and joyful activity around them. Heading toward the concession stand, Wren went in the back and grabbed two bottles of water before sending a grin to the girl that was running it for Antoine and Emma. Wren hadn’t realized everyone knew everyone in this town. Being back at the Monroes’ house, where no one was around for at least twenty miles, she’d thought there wasn’t anyone else in the area, but coming into town, she realized she was very wrong.
The town was small, but its residents loved each other dearly. The whole morning all she heard was people asking about Antoine’s health and then how Wren’s pregnancy was going. They accepted Wren as one of their own, acting as if they had known her her whole life. It was insane. Everyone was just so kind, and they treated Jensen with such beautiful respect. It was obvious he was the golden boy in the town. It was lovely to watch, and she was having a blast.
All while trying really hard not to think about the fact that she’d be heading home in two days.
Being with the Monroes was almost like a fairy tale. Or maybe that was Jensen. He just made her feel so good. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay there, in the security and strength she’d found in the Monroes’ home. No wonder how Jensen was so damn confident and strong; he had two wonderful people to model himself after. She also understood why he strived for a love-filled marriage. His parents had that, and it was something she had never been able to observe. Her parents loved each other, sure, but it was different with Antoine and Emma. It was more than love, it was… She wasn’t sure, but it was beautiful to witness.
Heading toward where Antoine was waiting for her, she found herself stopped by Emma, who was standing with a few women Wren had seen more than once that day. “Wrenya, come here, love.”
Wren did as she was asked, and Emma wrapped her arms around her, kissing her cheek. “This is my gorgeous daughter-in-law, Wrenya.”
Wren smiled awkwardly as everyone wished her well. “You look like Jensen’s best friend. The thicker one,” one of the ladies said.
“Wells, yes, that’s her brother,” Emma pointed out before turning to Wren. “This is Jensen’s ex-mother-in-law.”
Looking back to the thin woman, Wren tried to smile. Though, she pretty much hated his ex-wife and anyone associated with her. “Oh. Nice to meet you.”
“You as well. My lovely Ophelia is on her fifth pregnancy, you hear, Emma? Though, I’m still sad that she and Jensen never could work it out.”
“It was all her fault,” one of the other ladies said.
“Who lets go of someone like Jensen Monroe?” another asked, and Wren grinned.
“Yeah, her loss, my gain,” she said, which caused the lady’s face to wrinkle a bit before she flashed them all a smile. “If you’ll excuse me, Ant needs me.” Kissing Emma’s cheek, Wren headed toward where Ant was waiting under his tent, and when he saw her, he lit up.
“Thank God, I’m dying here.”
Wren giggled as she handed him the water bottle and sat down beside him. “How’s it going?”
“Wrapping up, then they’ll do the shootout.”
“The shootout?”
“Yeah, all the kids will get a chance to score on Jensen, and whoever does will get to hold the Cup first.”
Wren’s lips curved. “That’s cute.”
“Yeah, it will be fun,” he said as he added a point from where someone had scored. “Have you seen my woman?”
“She’s over there talking to Jensen’s ex-wife’s mom,” she said, her face twisting as if she had something nasty in her mouth.
“She’s jealous. She loved Jensen, but her daughter was a whore.”
Sputtering with laughter, Wren nodded. “Got that right.”
Shaking his head, he leaned into Wren. “See, the problem with Ophelia was she didn’t love Jensen with her soul. You know what I mean?”
Wren pressed her lips together. “I don’t, sorry.”
“Okay, see, I love my Emma with my soul. Not my heart, because a heart can stop. And not with my mind, because a mind forgets. But a soul, Wrenya, a soul never stops, nor does it forget. It just loves. Same thing with you and Jensen—you love with your soul.”
She met his gaze, and his infectious grin had her smiling back. “That’s beautiful.”
“That’s love. Always love with your soul, you hear me, Wrenya?”
“I do,” she said, patting his hand, and he captured her hand before bringing it to his mouth.
“Good girl,” he said, kissing her hand before he rang the bell. Everyone stopped, and then Jensen started speaking very rapidly in French before the kids all let out a variety of ecstatic cries. It was sexy. People started wrangling the kids as Jensen came to the table with a grin on his face. “It’s going great, son.”
He nodded. “It’s awesome, Dad, thanks.” Looking to Wren, he asked, “Ma chou, you see Elli?”
She glared at the nickname as he fought back his laughter. She loved
when he did that. His eyes were bright while he tried to keep his lips from forming a grin. Man, he was cute. “I did. I thought it was sweet.”
He nodded as he started to put on his goalie equipment. “It was. She’s heading out.”
“Aww, too bad.”
“Yeah,” he said before standing up and putting on his chest shield. “Hopefully I don’t get hurt.”
Wren smiled. “They’re some big kids out there.”
“I know, that’s what I’m saying,” he laughed before leaning over the table and kissing her lips. “See ya.”
“Good luck,” she called as he went back out into the street, the kids all cheering loudly for him. When he dropped down, stretching and then doing a few drills that she had seen him do on the ice numerous times, her brow furrowed. “Wait, he’s serious out there?”
Ant laughed. “Of course he is. We play to win, Wrenya.”
“They’re kids!”
“So?” he laughed, and she shook her head. Sure as shit, once the shootout started, Jensen was in full goalie mode.
She had to admit, it was fucking hot.
He batted everything away, poke checked more kids than she’d care to admit since it probably made him an asshole, and taunted the bigger kids while trying to lift up the younger ones. She was completely amazed by him, so much so that she missed the little girl who was standing at the table, speaking very sweetly in French.
Looking up at the girl and then her mom before glancing at Ant, Wren asked, “What’s going on?”
“She’s late and wants to play, but they cut the lines off,” he said to her quickly before holding his hands out and saying something to the mom. When the little girl’s shoulders fell, so did Wren’s heart.
“Oh no, she’s getting her shot,” Wren said, standing up and grabbing a stick. “Do you know English?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Thank God. “Good, what’s your name?”
“Maude.”
“Awesome. Maude, I’m Wren. Come on, we’ll go together.”
She took the hand of the little girl, who couldn’t have been over six, and they walked out toward the street where everyone was, cheering on their friends. One of the volunteers went to stop Wren, but she held her hand up. “Married to the guy in goal.”
“But the lines are closed.”
“And I don’t care,” she said simply, heading toward Jensen as the little girl giggled happily. Standing beside the person who was controlling who went next, she tapped him on the shoulder. “We’d like a try.”
His brows pulled together. “But the line is closed.”
“Wren, what are you doing?”
She smiled before looking past him to Jensen. “She didn’t get here in time and wants her chance. I’m using my wife card to get us a shot.”
Pushing up his helmet, he had the widest and most gorgeous grin on his face as he nodded. “Bring it.”
“Hear that?” she asked Maude. “We get our shot.” But the little girl didn’t move. Bending down, Wren grasped her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“What if I miss?”
Wren’s heart cracked as she held the sweet girl’s gaze in hers. “You know, you miss every single shot you don’t take.”
Her face broke into a grin. “Wayne Gretzky.”
“Yup. So if you don’t try, how do you know if you’ll miss?”
And as the child slowly nodded, Wren realized that her words meant more than she intended them to. Not for Maude, but for herself. But before she could really dissect what she was feeling, Maude put her stick down and nodded toward the guy running the line, who threw a puck down to her. Stick handling it like a pro, she gazed up at Wren. “Will you come with me?”
Wren beamed down at the little girl. “Of course.”
Wren grabbed a stick and put it down, and Maude passed the puck to her. Wren passed it back as the crowd lost their ever-loving mind. Looking back at Jensen, she could see him grinning, but he was ready. When Wren got the puck, she acted as if she was going to shoot—of course, she was way slower, and Jensen saw the whole thing—but she passed it to Maude nonetheless, and she shot it through his legs with ease. Maude threw her arms up, and everyone went nuts as Maude came over, hugging Wren tightly.
Tears flooded her eyes as she held the girl who was shaking with excitement. Wren felt like a baby, but she didn’t care. It was a damn good day. When she looked up, Jensen was standing there, handing Maude the puck. “You got me.”
She beamed up at him. “You started out as a forward. I know this because you’re my favorite player ever, and I want to be just like you.”
He bent down, cupping her face. “You’ll be better, don’t ever forget that,” he said before squeezing her shoulder. “Great job.”
“Can I have my picture with you and the Cup?”
“Of course, you’ll get it first!”
She almost came out of her skin before looking up to Wren. “Thank you, Mrs. Monroe. You made my whole life.”
As the little girl ran off toward her mother, who was crying, Wren fought back her own tears. “Cutest damn kid ever.”
When Jensen’s hands came around her waist, she turned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I was convinced you weren’t going to let her score.”
He scoffed, his lips curving. “I wasn’t going to, but I thought you were taking the shot, and you’re the only person I’ll let score on me.”
Before she could smile or say anything else, his lips were on hers in a downright sinful way. Their night together, only a few nights ago, still shook her to the core. They hadn’t had a moment like that again, mostly because when they got to bed, they passed out from the day, but she yearned for him like no other. Running her fingers through the coarse hair on his jaw, she leaned into him and didn’t care at all that he was sweaty and sort of stinky.
All she cared about was kissing him.
And that didn’t scare her one bit.
Which was a win in her book.
“I swear, I have never seen a more dashing man in a suit.”
Jensen rolled his eyes as his father boasted up at Wren from his wheelchair. It wasn’t often that Jensen saw his father in anything but his sports shorts and tees, but even he had to admit he looked great. Not that he was telling him that. “Hey.”
Wren grinned over at him as Antoine laughed. “Hey, son, can’t help how sexy I am. Right, Emma?”
“Right,” she agreed before pressing her lips to Antoine’s cheek. Jensen smiled as his father kissed her back, rubbing her shoulders, not the least bit concerned that he was in a wheelchair. But that’s how it always was.
When Wren threaded her fingers through Jensen’s, he looked over at her as she whispered, “Don’t worry, I think you’re hotter.”
Leaning his head to hers, he kissed her nose as Emma gushed over the food. “Damn right, you do.”
She sent him a grin as he looked around the party his mother had thrown. It was too damn lavish for the little town, but she didn’t hold back. The food was divine, and the decorations, which included lots of the number 1, along with purple and black for the Assassins colors, were everywhere. There was even an ice sculpture of his face.
Yes, his face.
Wells and Vaughn were geeking out.
Looking down at his phone, he scoffed as Vaughn and Wells went back and forth about the picture Wren had sent them.
Wells: What the shit? I should have come! My stupid wedding is holding me back!
Vaughn: Right? I’m pissed. I wanna lick your nose.
Wells: Or stick carrots in his eyes.
Wells: Too bad it isn’t your body, I’d stick a carrot up your ass.
Vaughn: Whoa, man, too gay. You jumped over the line with your straight best friends. Go back, abort!
Wells: My bad, stepping back over.
Wells: But really, I need more pictures. I’m texting Wren.
“Did my brother say he wants to stick a carrot up your ass?”
Laughin
g, he shut his phone off and tucked it into his suit pocket. “Yes.”
“Wow, he went really gay on you.”
“Doesn’t happen often,” he laughed, shaking his head. “He’s silly.”
“Yeah,” she said as she took a long pull of her not-wine, as she kept calling it. “This is a beautiful party, Emma.”
His mother waved her off. “Please, I bet your mom puts on better shows.”
Wren smiled. “Not as pretty as this. It’s gorgeous.”
“Well, thank you. I swear, I love you more and more as the days pass.”
“Me too,” Jensen found himself saying, which caused his father, mother, and Wren to look over at him with smiles pulling at their lips.
Wren’s face deepened with color as she pressed her shoulder to his. “He knows how to make a girl swoon.”
“Gets it from me,” his father said, and Emma rolled her eyes.
“Don’t listen to him. I did that,” Emma demanded, and Antoine laughed as Jensen smiled. Little did they know, they’d both shaped him into the man he was. Along with the Lemieres. To say he was honored by the party his mum had put on was an understatement. He almost felt like he didn’t deserve it, but then, he had worked really fucking hard. In the middle of the dance floor was the Cup, shining in all its beautiful glory, and he wanted to hug it. It had been a great day. The kids were awesome, the town was astounding, and now, he was at a party with his woman on his arm.
And boy, what a sight she was.
She was wearing the dress from their wedding, and it did hug her a little tighter than before, but he found it sexy as hell. Her hair was down, big curls with that flower crown she’d had on at their wedding. Unlike that day, her makeup was dramatic, and her lips were as pink as the gown. She looked fucking fantastic, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in her neck and live out the rest of his days there.
She blew his mind.
Holding her hand, he drew circles on her palm as she talked to his parents like she had belonged there since day one. In a way, he knew she did. There wasn’t a moment in his life that he hadn’t looked around and wished she were there. But this moment, one of the biggest in his life, his homecoming with the Cup was one day he was more than glad she was a part of.