Page 104 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

BEANS ON TOAST

It was well past nightfall, and while cold, the sky was so clear and bright—even with the pollution of light from Boston, which carried on without the captain…

the same way it had carried on without his mother.

Brent took Wren up on her offer to walk around, and hustle the greasiest vendor cart out of their highest-calorie item on the menu.

She hadn’t called him a pussy, or made the usual WrenVintorri-style dig at the emotion he shamelessly displayed when they visited Pat’s grave.

Afterwards, she’d found ice cream, and told him he could ‘suck it’, and she was getting some even if they could see puffs of their breath in front of their faces.

Now they were taking a rest for her blistered feet eating cones on the large fountain in the traffic circle outside a building he knew too well.

“I know you got out really lucky because of that little blonde trollop shafting you out at your firm,” Wren said between long licks of her ice cream cone. “But I wish I could’ve seen you drop-kick that motherfucker in there that day.”

Brent worked on his own cone, grateful that she’d talked him into it, and smiled as he stared at the steps of the courthouse. “I didn’t drop-kick anybody.”

“You hospitalized the dude, Brent.”

He laughed, licking around the side, and staring suggestively at her the entire time. “I’m gonna hospitalize you , later. And don’t fire off a warning. You know you like it.”

“You shootin’ from the hip, there, Stratford?”

He straightened, feigning pain as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“These fucking shoes wound me . Never again. Not even for you.” Her little shrimp toes wiggled in his lap, and he warmed them with his other hand.

“They’re overrated,” he grinned, taking another lick.

She stared off at the building. “I feel like you’re gonna miss all this, Brent.

” He paused his assault on the heavenly hash, and she met eyes with him, lowering her ice cream, and brushing her hand over his suit.

“The suits. The women more adjusted to your lifestyle.” Her hand waved towards the courthouse.

“The job. I know things happened, and we can never go back to who we were before that mansion…but aside from all the pinstripe, pompous ego…I also know you worked your ass off to get where you were. You’re really okay with letting all that go, and being a nobody in Denver? ”

He squeezed his hand around her foot and rubbed gently.

“You know, Wren…it might have never occurred to you that I was a little less than happy back then. Even before the mansion. You’re Sarah’s best friend.

Regardless of what I did to her, or why we met in the first place…

I never really made her happy, and you know that just as well as I do.

You spent two years trying to get her to see it. ”

For once in her life, she was silent…watching his every move.

“I would have never admitted that I was miserable back then. I told you that night in the car…this was never a show. Every night that I refused to stay at Sarah’s apartment, I’d go back to the penthouse, and I’d never be able to sleep.

Not because of what I knew I was doing to her on my dad’s behalf, but because I knew deep down that I was never gonna fit that mold.

My mom knew it too. I’m a good lawyer. I did bust ass at Harvard.

I respect the law, and every case I closed…

Wren, that might have been the only honest things I’d ever done.

I wanted to help people. I didn’t work criminal cases, because I cared too much.

That was the real reason I lost my shit on that murderous piece of—” Brent shook his head, and bit down on his lip, recalling the face of the bastard that snuffed out a life without a second thought…

all for a bit of loose change. “I really thought I wanted my name on the door once. I really did. But when C.J. came to the apartment that day…it was so clear to me then, that walking back through those doors wasn’t as fulfilling as leaving them behind. ”

“What made you so sure?” she asked quietly.

Brent raised his face to look at her— really look at her…

and in that moment she was the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

Not just because he knew without a doubt that he loved her, but because Wren Vintorri, and everything they were about to experience together— that was his future. Bright. New. Fresh.

Unruly and red.

Brent smiled, raising his ice cream back up to his mouth. “A big-ass head of red hair, and a wrinkled, white button-down shirt.”

He didn’t even see it coming.

His ice cream smashed into his face, and his nose was full of heavenly hash.

Brent’s mouth gaped open, and his eyes went wide as Wren cackled next to him, leaning forward and palming her stomach.

He saw the opportunity, and he jumped on it, dropping his cone to the concrete, and pushing her face down onto her own ice cream.

When she abruptly stopped laughing, and looked up, the red in her hair complimented strawberry smush, dead-center …

in her nose, across her cheeks, and a nice glob of it hung in her hair.

Brent exploded, ice cream flying from his face as she glared at him with murder in her eyes.

“Oh, you’re dead , Stratford!” Wren laughed, giving chase in her bare feet as he bolted from the fountain towards the car.

He jingled the keys in the air, howling as he ran, and people started to stare when he called over his shoulder. “See you in Denver! ”

“I hope you retained every morsel of information from fucking divorce law, bitch!” He could tell by her voice, she was gaining on him, and between his laughing, and the restraint of this fucking suit…

He ‘oofed’ into the side of the car as Wren tackled him, giggling like a mad woman.

He turned his body and threw his arms around her, melted hues of ice cream dripping from their chins as they devoured each other’s lips.

The familiar sound of shutters flying off surrounded them, and without a single thought, or plan…

they both threw a middle finger up, never breaking their kiss.

“I’d never miss any of that shit as much as I’d miss this, Wren,” he whispered into her mouth.

“Had enough of Boston, bitch-boy?”

The car chirped, and he hoisted her up around his hips, grinning from ear-to-ear as he made his way around the hood.

“Enough for a fucking lifetime.”

“Since when do people ever tip this much on delivery?” Brandon asked, wincing at the receipt as he started unloading their dinner from the large bag. Rhaena shifted on Brent’s couch, pulling the cozy blanket tighter around herself.

“Since they started living in an apartment building that’s in an entirely different tax bracket,” she snorted.

“This is not a hundred dollars worth of food.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes, twisting the silver ring on her forefinger underneath the blanket. It was the first genuine smile she’d had for days. “Is that a gray hair I see sticking out up there?”

He went still, with a takeout container in each hand. “You did not.”

“That’s the oldest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” she giggled, reaching an arm out for her food. He moved it out of her reach, and she gaped. “Gimme that!”

“Oh, I think not, alpha ,” he purred, raising a brow. “You best take that back.”

“Or I can make you hand it over. You know better than to make a move between me and my food, Brandon Jenkins.”

Brandon leaned in and playfully kissed her, placing the container in her covered lap. “Yes, dear.”

“Gross…now you really sound old.”

He snickered as he plopped down next to her and poured them both a glass of wine. “Where do you think they went? I thought they would have been back by now. Wren was about as ready to come out of that outfit as you were.”

Rhaena swallowed down another gulp and started picking at her dinner. “Maybe they went out. It’s been a really long day. Gotta admit though, I know it isn’t our house, but it’s nice to have it to ourselves for a little bit.”

Brandon chewed and stared over at the Boston skyline. “How much do you think this place goes for? A mil?”

Rhaena paused mid-chew, and drew her brows. “Probably. He said he hadn’t listed it yet. Why?” He had a gleam in his eye when he looked back at her, and a slight smirk on his lips. “No.”

“Why not? We’re both way past due for an upgrade, and neither one of us have made any moves to go back to your place. You know it’ll never be the same.”

She tried not to spew the residual anger at the thought of her apartment. “ Nothing will ever be the same, babe. Ever. But aside from that, you know damned well we could never afford this place.”

Brandon shrugged, forking another mouthful. “Maybe not on our current salary, no. But you’re taking the captain’s exam, and Foley was planning on buying it, wasn’t he?”

True…

“And you’re not bothered by all of us basically playing ‘musical apartments’?” she asked, shooting her eyebrows up.

“If that’s what we’re doing, then it looks like we’d win, doesn’t it? Go ahead and fire off another excuse,” he smiled.

Rhaena chewed slowly and stared at the floor. “I don’t have one.” He must have noticed her change in attitude…or rather the drop . He squeezed her thigh in comfort.

“It was just a thought, babe. I’m happy to impregnate you amongst my vast collection of sports memorabilia.”

Rhaena’s face shot towards him, and she couldn’t help her broad smile. “Oh hell no. Call Brent right now and make him a fucking offer!”

Brandon chuckled through his food. “Thought that’d do the trick.”

Sarah leaned against the wall with her knees raised under the old blanket she’d finally gotten back from evidence after they’d closed Nell’s case.

Poe perched on top of it as he nipped at her fingertips and mimicked all the crazy sounds she was making at him while they impatiently waited for Athan to finish whatever the hell he was attempting to do in the kitchen.