He said that I needed a plan. Apparently, just randomly blurting out words was not the best idea I’d ever had.
I had thought about what I’d wanted to say to her, but being prepared had meant nothing when Cooper had opened the door and I’d found myself face to face with my beautiful daughter. Just remembering the moment had the fine hairs on my arms standing up tall.
It had been one of the most powerful moments of my entire life.
I knew I needed to do things right, and that meant making it as easy as possible on Wren. So, this time, I wasn’t about to corner her at her home, the safe space she’d created for her and Cooper.
No, I was going to corner her at her job.
Giving my bracelet one quick tug to settle my nerves, I pulled my hat down low over my eyes and stepped out of the vehicle. It had taken a lot for Charlie to let me come alone today, including having him do a circle of the street just thirty minutes before I was supposed to be here, just so he could make sure there were no pending threats or whatever. But he finally relented, and I almost laughed at how difficult it was for him to hand over the keys and let me leave.
Opening the door, I stepped into the small law office where Wren worked, my gaze darting around the tidy space quickly. It was vastly different than the law offices I was used to in L.A., where they took up several floors of a high-rise office building, were filled with stuffy, stuck-up people, and tended toward cold and impersonal.
This place was quaint, almost cozy, with two overstuffed couches in the waiting area and the walls dotted with artistic shots of what I assumed were historical locations around Grand Rapids. There was an old barn at sunset, a trestle bridge over a slowly churning river, and a silhouette of a tree against a full moon that looked like something out of a fairy story. The photos were tagged with small cardboard placards announcing the photographer as S. Hall, and saying that they were for sale if someone wanted them.
In the other corner of the space was a large L-shaped desk made of dark, coffee-colored wood. Containing a computer, stacks of files and papers scattered in what appeared to be a chaotic mess, but was probably only organized chaos to the person who worked at that desk. It was the chair at that desk that caught my attention, however. Because that chair was currently empty.
Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep from fidgeting, I rocked back on my heels and waited, unsure of the proper protocol for a situation like this. Did I call out to the offices farther down the hall, or was I supposed to go find someone to help me?
I was saved from having to make a decision, however, when a light thrill of laughter came from one of the far rooms, followed by a lower, masculine chuckle that immediately had my hackles rising.
“I’ll get right on it, Daniel,” came a voice that I knew to be Wren’s, followed by another deep laugh from whoever the fuck Daniel was.
“Thanks, Wren. You’re the best.”
Before I had a chance to move, Wren stepped into the hall, her quick strides carrying her my way. She looked delectable, a flowered skirt dancing just above her knees and a proper black blouse completing her business casual outfit. It gave off sexy librarian vibes that I was totally digging. I wanted to watch her walk toward me in that skirt, but I really wanted to watch her walk away in it, too. Damn.
Wren kept her strides quick as she approached, but when she raised her head and caught sight of me, she froze, the papers in her hand tumbling to the floor.
“Shit!” she exclaimed, her face crumpling as she dropped to her knees and began gathering up the papers.
“Let me help,” I said, reaching her in a few steps. When I stood beside her, she blinked up at me, surprise on her face as she pressed one hand to her chest in shock at my closeness.
It came to me again in a flash, that image—that memory—from a night so long ago. Wren on her knees, looking up at me in shock exactly as she was now. Her eyes, the same eyes that had been haunting my dreams for years, were wide and warm, and my dick twitched in my fuckin’ jeans. I could picture her staring at me, eyes rimmed with tears, as she took me in her mouth over and over.
Fuck, why was that so fucking powerful? It was like I was a kid again with my hormones in control of my thoughts, but there was just something about Wren that made me crazy. It was like I couldn’t stop my brain from conjuring erotic thoughts.
“Wren? Everything alright?” came the other voice again, breaking the spell that had held us—held me—like a snapped guitar string. I crouched, reaching for the scattered papers to try to assist her, but Wren snatched them from my hand with a glare.
“Yes, Daniel,” she said, a note of panic in her voice. “Everything’s fine.”
He didn’t believe her, though, because he stepped out of the back office and looked down the hall, his face slipping into a small frown when he spotted us huddled together on the floor.
“Hello,” he said congenially, the professional mask sliding easily back into place as he stepped up behind Wren while she finished gathering her fallen papers and stood. I watched, eyes narrowed, as the smarmy bastard placed a hand gently on her lower back, like he was staking a claim before holding the other out to me. “Daniel Morley, attorney at law. How can I help you?”
I looked from him to her and back again, a question forming in my mind. Was that what he was? Her bossandher boyfriend? Charlie’s contact hadn’t mentioned anything about it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. Maybe they were just keeping it quiet; I could understand Wren not wanting anyone to know she was shaggin’ her boss.
A second, more violent thought came to me, and I grit my teeth as I stared up at them from where I was still crouched on the floor.
What ifhewas the one who was hidingher? The prick seemed the type; shiny shoes and his hair parted to the side. Probably felt like he was a big fish in a small pond, being a lawyer and everything. I bet he thought he was too good for her, his prestige as a lawyer making him treat everyone around him like trash.
Well, fuck that and fuck him.
Standing to my full height—a good four inches taller thanDaniel—I pasted on my most arrogant rock star grin, and reveled in the way Daniel seemed to shrink in my presence.
“Jameson,” I said, gripping his extended hand and squeezing until I felt his knuckles pop. “Hawk Jameson. And I’m here for Wren.”
Chapter fifty-six
