A Redo (Sterling Shore 6)

“I just needed that,” I whisper, afraid of speaking too loudly for fear that it might break the spell.

He smiles again, then leans down to nip my lips just barely with the graze of his teeth—the bottom lip first, then the top.

“I’m glad you needed it.”

My hand slides up his chest, and I start worrying about how wrong or right this could all go. But I’m ready to find out.

“What do we do?” he asks.

It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about now instead of about us.

“Cookie baking, reindeer food assembling, storytelling, and a few other things. You up for a long night?”

He grins before winking. “You’re perfectly aware that I can go all night.”

I can’t help but laugh before tugging him back inside. Angel is sorting through the DVDs. Bella is in the floor—fully clothed with her hair still wet—and she arches an eyebrow at me while pausing her toenail polish painting. Since Angel’s head is turned, I flip off Bella, and she winks at Wren.

Christmas Eve with Wren. I could get used to this.

“Can I give you your present before we get started?” I ask him, smiling when he looks surprised.

“You got me a present?” His grin transforms his face, making him all too tempting.

“Yeah. It’s this way. It’s something from Angel and me.”

“I agreed to it, too,” Bella calls from the living room, prompting Wren to laugh.

Angel skips into the kitchen, her grin wide as Wren picks her up and places her on the counter. I hand him the wrapped file, and he opens it, looking a little confused.

“What’s this?” he asks, but then his breath catches in his throat and his grip on the files gets tighter.

“It’s the papers to get my name changed to Prize,” Angel happily announces. “Mommy said she can’t change her name, but that I’m supposed to have your name. I like Prize. Is it okay with you?” she asks innocently.

Wren’s eyes water, and he clears his throat several times, attempting to speak, but he can’t seem to manage to get any words out. Finally he gets a choked, “Yes,” out, but he never moves his eyes away from the blank documents.

I guess he also sees the birth certificate information. Angel doesn’t need to know that his name isn’t on there. But that’s part of the present—getting his name on there. I just don’t know all the legal stuff, and he has a lawyer on hand who can probably supply all the answers.

Don’t cry, Allie.

I’ve never wanted to be Thrash. Thrash is the name of the family that abandoned me. Angel deserves a name that is proud to accept her and show her love. One that has meaning.

“I thought you might want to have your lawyers look at it,” I explain, letting him know why it’s blank. “And some of the stuff needs your signature and definitely your lawyer,” I say, referring to the birth certificate.

He nods, and then he clears his throat again before hugging Angel to him. “Thank you,” he says, his voice hoarse and strained.

She beams up at him before hopping off the counter, and she goes to tell Bella the good news—as if she wasn’t listening in. Wren stares at the documents for a minute longer, then he sets them down and grabs me, pulling me toward the door.

Bella’s eyebrows hit her hairline as we pass through, and Wren doesn’t say a word as he pulls me outside. My back slams the wall of the house, and Wren pins me there with one hand in my hair and one on my waist, before he pushes against me.

I start to speak just as his lips crush mine, and then I’m suddenly melting again, pulling him closer, and praying Bella keeps Angel inside. Wren’s tongue is greedy, his hands are insistent, and his kiss is just shy of painful, almost desperate, as though he’s using me as an outlet to curb his emotions. And I’m a willing and eager receptacle.

He finally breaks the kiss, and this time he’s panting just as hard as I am. But I’m also throbbing, aching, and in need of more than a hot make-out session outside.

“What was that for?” I whisper softly, still trying to catch my breath.

One side of his mouth tilts in a grin before he says, “I just needed that.”

***

WREN

Angel wraps her arms around me, hugging me goodnight after hours of preparing for Santa’s arrival. A short, pink Christmas tree is proudly displayed and awaiting the gifts… Yeah. I’m definitely surrounded by women—a freaking pink Christmas tree. But I’ve never even put up a tree. Next year I will.

I release Angel, then find that awkward moment where Allie is fidgeting nervously, looking at me like she wants to kiss me but knows we can’t. My lips tighten, and I tell her goodnight—grudgingly. We do hug very awkwardly, and it leads to uneasy laughter shared between us.