Page 182 of Rebel Hawke

“If, and I do meanifthat happened, it was only because I was looking at Wren.”

My gaze drifts to her now over Astrid’s shoulder, still talking with Mom and now Nana, Luca, and Byron, who have joined them.

When I turn back, Astrid gives me a goofy grin. “Is everything ready?”

I nod. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning. Taking the jet.”

“Does she know?”

Shaking my head, I fight a grin. “Absolutely not. The less time she has to argue about it and try to stop it, the better.” And I didn’t miss the fact that Astrid attempted to direct the subjectawayfrom herself. “But when I get back, you and I are going to talk.” I lock gazes with her, ensuring she sees how serious I am about this. “Reallytalk. Promise you’re not going to dodge me?”

Those pale brows of hers rise. “You mean the way you’ve been dodging me?”

Shit.

“Okay, that’s totally fair. Yes.” I nod. “Just like I’ve been dodging you.”

She shakes her head. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

I plant a kiss on her forehead and spin her around the dance floor, but as the song starts to wind down, Cass and Kennedy—with her bouquet in hand—approach the stage.

My palms suddenly get very sweaty, and I pull away from Astrid, wiping them on my jacket as I scan the sea of people for two tiny ones. “Are the girls ready?”

Astrid helps me search for Viviana and Charlotte and points. “Right there.” She turns back to me, barely containing her grin. “You nervous?”

I shake my head. “No. Do I have reason to be? Do you know something I don’t?”

She smirks. “What makes you think I’d tell you if I did? It would be more entertaining to see you get down on one knee and have her say ‘no.’”

Discreetly flipping her the bird, I watch her head straight for the girls. She bends down and talks to them, and I turn back to Wren.

Here it goes.

I didn’t think I’d be nervous doing this. Not when I’m confident—or at least, Iwasuntil Astrid saidthat—Wren is going to say yes. But I can’t stop my hands from shaking even as I return to her side and she slides the glass back into my palm.

Hell…

She opens her mouth to say something, but I bring the glass to my lips and down the whole thing in one gulp.

The burn of the whiskey going down only makes me jumpier, and Wren’s eyes widen slightly.

“Okay, then…”

I know she’s about to ask me if something is wrong, and given everything that’s happened over the last week—our argument, the fight, the rush to secure Coen and the rest of the family once I filled in everyone on what was happening—there have been a lot of things that felt wrong.

But throwing Coen under the bus is the worst. It will never feelrightto me not to do everything in my power to protect anyone I care about, but for this woman in my arms, it was a choice I had to make.

“Our turn.” I tug her toward the dance floor.

She laughs, allowing me to lead her through the friends and associates milling around. “What is it with you today?”

Finding an open space for us, I pull her against me. “What do you mean?”

“You seem so”—she shrugs—“I don’t know…different.”

I feather my lips over hers, needing to taste her, to feel her even closer. “Maybe because I don’t have the weight of the fight still hanging over me.”

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