Page 89 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Wren’s eyes sparkle as she repeats my words. “To new beginnings.” We clink our glasses and all take a sip. The wine encompasses light hints of cherry and raspberry with whispers of cinnamon and cloves, adding a warming spice to the finish.
“It’s delicious,” she mentions, setting her glass down. “So, tell me more about you both.”
“Well, I’m the five minutes younger, more handsome version of Ezra,” I smirk, letting my dimples shine.
Ezra rolls his eyes. “We’re thirty-seven, own a tech company that we built from the ground up after we left the Army and we’re about to roll out a new software in an innovative app that integrates with wearables to provide real-time health tracking and predictive analytics for wellness.”
“Our mother died from an aneurysm and was alone. If she’d had this technology she might have survived,” I admit solemnly.
Wren’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry.”
Ezra shrugs. “It was years ago. And now we have the ability to help others.”
“It sounds like a wonderful way to honor her memory,” she adds. “So, you both were in the military?”
“For eight years, Special Forces,” I reply, a sense of pride swelling within me. “It was a challenging time, but it shaped who I am today.”
Ezra nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “We worked in military intelligence, which eventually led us to building our tech company. We wanted to create something that could help others, something that would make a difference.”
“That’s impressive,” Wren says, her eyes lighting up with interest. “What kind of tech do you focus on?”
“We specialize in security and surveillance systems even though our most recent tech is geared toward medical welfare,” I explain.
“Our goal is to provide safety solutions for both individuals and businesses. After seeing so much chaos during our time in the military, we wanted to ensure that people have the tools they need to protect themselves.”
Wren’s expression softens, and I can see her admiration. “That’s really admirable. You’re both doing something meaningful.”
The server arrives, setting steaming plates of pasta and succulent meat before us. The aroma is mouthwatering, and Wren's eyes light up as she takes her first bite. We eat in silence for a few minutes, the tension building between us with each passing moment.
Ezra is the first to break the silence. “So, tell us about yourself, Wren.”
She pauses, her fork hovering over the plate. “I’m Wren Preston and I’m twenty-three.” She cringes probably from realizing the age gap between the three of us. I knew she was young and that thought never crossed my mind as a concern as we began pursuing her.
“And what do you like to do when you aren’t slinging coffee around?” I ask.
“Well, I fear that I’ve become a bit of a homebody.
I love curling up with a good book and a cup of coffee.
I love food.” She chuckles nervously as she pats her sexy curves.
Her cheeks blush and I see red when I realize someone dared tell this siren that she was anything but perfection.
I yearn to trap her hands above her head and show her exactly what she does to me.
Ezra speaks up when he sees the emotions running across my face. “We will have to take you to some of our favorite spots, or even have you over so we can cook for you.”
“Really? You two can cook as well?”
“You can’t really live in Italy without picking up a thing or two,” I remark as I take another sip of wine.
“Are you from Chicago?” Ezra asks casually. We want to know all there is to know about this vixen that has us entranced. Any information will help Jacobson as well.
She hesitates for a moment, lost in thought.
“I’m new to the area, actually. I needed a change of scenery and here I am.
” Wren grabs her drink and takes a large gulp of wine before she looks back at us.
There’s definitely something in her past that she’s trying to escape and we are going to be the ones to protect her from it.
I take her hand in mine, sending a bolt of electricity up my arm. She gasps, her large silver eyes looking at me with surprise.
“We want to know everything about you, Wren, but we understand it can take some time to trust us. Just know that when we walked into that coffee shop, we knew we wanted you. There is something different and so intriguing about you that has us needing you.” I run my fingers along the smooth skin on her arm, eliciting goosebumps as I go.
“What happened here?” I ask as I rub circles around a fairly large scar on her upper arm. She pulls away quickly, the spell between us broken and she covers her arm with her other hand.
“T-that’s nothing. I’m a klutz and fell down some stairs,” she says with a nervous laugh.
Ezra and I share a knowing glance. Her answer doesn’t convince us but we know not to push her on it.
“We’re always here if you ever want to talk,” Ezra reassures her. We both realize that there is so much more to her story than she’s willing to divulge right now, and it’s killing us.
Wren nods as she takes another sip of her wine, her cheeks probably flushed from the conversation and the alcohol running through her.
“So, I don’t really know what to expect with all this.” She gestures between the three of us, effectively changing the subject.
“What do you want to know, merlotta ?” I murmur in her ear.
She bites her lip as her eyes dart between us. “What does that mean?”
I chuckle, tracing a finger along her jawline. “It’s Italian for ‘little blackbird'. It suits you, no?”
Her blush deepens and she takes a deep breath. “I want to know everything,” she breathes.
Ezra grins with his eyes locked onto hers. “Let’s get out of here then.”
We leave the restaurant, the cool night air a welcome relief from the heat of our shared meal. I can feel the tension between us, a pulsing electric current that connects us. I can’t think of anything other than the need to devour every inch of her while she screams our names.