Page 25 of Finding Out

I met her halfway to the curb and took them from her. After they were loaded, I climbed into the driver’s seat, finding her already waiting with her seat belt on.

So efficient.

Once I’d pulled out onto the one-way street, we settled in for the long ride.

Her perfume filled the car, and instead of pissing me off, it drained the tension from my shoulders.

“You know you’re smiling again.” Wren rolled her lips in and tucked her hair behind her ear as she peeked over at me, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Always giving me shit.” I chuckled.

“I just didn’t think you knew how to smile.”

“I was stuck underwater, holding my breath.” I shrugged. Fighting my attraction to this woman had become a physical pain. Letting myself embrace it? That was easy. “I lived with the tension for too long. Turns out it’s easier to breathe.”

She blinked and pursed her lips. “That sounds like drowning. Underwater, trying to breathe, only to realize what you’re inhaling isn’t air? And then you’re gone.”

A deep rumble of a chuckle worked up my chest.

“That wasn’t supposed to be funny.” Her forehead creased. “I was serious.”

“You’re right.” I rested my arm on the center console so it brushed hers. “I’m definitely gone.”

None of the moments that I’d called this woman mine had been anything but real and raw and honest. But there were so many things in the way of getting us there. We had to move slower than I wanted to. I couldn’t come back from this weekend, move Wren into my place,and put a ring on her finger. That would be madness. I was almost fifty. I was well aware of how hard it was to find a connection that felt as right as the one we shared, but I also knew how to show a woman she mattered. And I intended to teach this woman just how much she was worth.

“You’re not dead.” She rolled her eyes. “Who knew you were so dramatic.” She reached for the radio but pulled back without touching it.

“Is this going to be a silent trip? Please don’t tell me you hate music.”

I fought back a chuckle. “I don’t hate music. You can put on whatever you want.” Though I hoped she wouldn’t go for the crappy pop shit Avery had always loved.

Surprisingly, she stopped when she found a classic rock station. “I love this song.” She turned it up a bit, then sat back and sang along to the chorus.

“You know Tom Petty?”

She spun my way, eyes bright. “I love him. This song’s great, but ‘Zombie Zoo’ is my jam.”

A chuckle worked its way up my throat. I wouldn’t admit it, but that was one of my favorites too. “Of course it is.”

“Don’t be so uptight.” She went back to quietly singing, this time bopping subtly to the beat.

Unable to resist the temptation, I clasped her hand and pulled it to rest on the console between us. She only hesitated for a second before she wrapped her fingers around my hand.

By the time we were merging onto 95, it was clear that Wren’s taste in music was pretty similar to mine. Not only did she like classic rock, but she liked country. She even stopped on a few of the classic stations when she recognized a song. Not once did I wince at her choices.

“Wait, wait. This one should be your jam.” Wren reached forward with her free hand and turned up the music.

Frowning, I squeezed her hand. “‘Dust on the Bottle’? Really?”

She giggled. “Yeah. Old, but getting better with time. Like fine wine?”

I rolled my eyes. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

Batting her eyes, she leaned closer. “You don’t think I’m cute?”

“No.” I shook my head.

In my periphery, she frowned, as if she truly thought I didn’t find her adorable.

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