Marry Me Page 4

  Did she say his name was Wren?

  I study the guy standing across from me. He has dark curly hair creeping out from the bottom of his baseball cap, and why the fuck is he wearing sunglasses indoors? A few people, women especially, stop to take a peek then continue walking past while tripping over their feet and giggling.

  Wren?

  No…it can’t be.

  Before I can even question it, one of the giggling girls comes to a stop next to us. Her hair is wild and curling with strands falling in her face. Her cheeks are bright red, and she can’t be taller than five feet. She giggles again, her voice almost a whisper when she asks, “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you Wren Danzig?”

  Letting go of Giselle, Wren takes a step toward the girl and leans down to her, saying, “I am, but can we keep it kind of quiet? I don’t want to start a swarm of people. It could cause an accident, and someone could get hurt.”

  She sobers up her expression and nods her head. “I understand completely. Do you think we could get a selfie?”

  I try not to roll my eyes or vomit. So this guy has been in a few movies—how does that make him special? He’s not even that good-looking unless you’re into movie star good looks or a megawatt smile with a chiseled jaw and cheekbones.

  Whatever.

  He looks around and nods his head. “Just one quick one. Do you have your phone?”

  The fangirl releases a quick squeal and her duffel bag is dropped, completely forgotten on the floor. Digging through her purse, she brings out her phone, and it almost slips out of her hands. Mr. Hollywood comes to her rescue and prevents it from falling.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. You’re my favorite actor and I’ve had a crush on you since you were on Adventures of the Jackson Brothers. It was my favorite TV show as a kid.” They snap their photo and he hands the phone back to her as she continues rambling on, “Thank you so much for the picture. Seriously, it means so much to me. What are you doing here in Oregon? Are you filming a new movie? Oh! My! Gosh! Are you making a TV show here? That. Would. Be. AHHMAZING! I’m actually trying to get into acting myself, maybe I can be an extra on your show! That would be even more AMAZE! I can’t wait to show all my friends that I met you!”

  She finally takes a moment to breathe and he offers her that fake Hollywood smile, saying, “It was so nice to meet you. Unfortunately, I can’t talk about why I’m here right now.”

  Nodding her head and sliding her fingers across her mouth like she’s zipping her lips, she gives him the biggest smile and, contradictory to what she just did, says, “My lips are sealed. Thank you again so much!”

  With a final squeal, she picks up her bag and runs away to where a group of people are waiting for her. That whole thing was really fucking weird. I hope it’s not going to continue being like this.

  “As much as I’m enjoying standing here, we should probably get going so we can avoid another incident like that.”

  I don’t want to agree with the guy, but he knows better than me about what his life is like. I nod my head and we start heading toward the parking garage where Giselle’s car is waiting. Fortunately, I found an awesome spot, and it doesn’t take us long to get there. Grabbing her keys out of my pocket, I shake them in my hand, and things get really awkward.

  Giselle looks unsure of herself when she says, “Any chance you can keep this information to yourself? I haven’t told my brother yet, and I’d rather it come from me, in person.”

  “Sure…” I continue jiggling her keys and then hold them out to her.

  This whole situation is making me crazy, and the last thing I want to do is continue hanging out with these two without a game plan. I take a small step away, turn partially back toward the cab pick-up area, and say, “I think I’m just going to take a cab.”

  Giselle starts to reach out to me then realizes what she’s doing, hand in midair, and pulls back. Instead she tilts her head to the side and asks, “Wait, why? That makes zero sense.”

  “Tinley and Marek have a welcome home party thing planned at their house. It was supposed to be a surprise for you, so don’t tell them I said anything. I’d rather take an Uber to my house and get my car.”

  “But—”

  “Babe, he wants to go. No reason for us to stand around all day arguing about it.”

  She opens her mouth, and the fire I just love in her is about to come out. That’s one of the things we’ve always had with each other, our passion and arguments. I wonder if this guy can really take that side of her. At the last second, she nods her head, smiles up at him, and says, “You’re right. We need to get checked into a hotel anyway. It doesn’t make sense for you to come with us.”

  What the fuck?

  The Giselle I know never would have agreed so easily. She would have fought tooth and nail until the three of us were crammed into her tiny sports car for the awkward long drive over to the hotel to get them checked in and then to Marek’s house. Even if that plan didn’t make sense, she would still be stubborn about it until everyone just agreed. She is not this meek and compliant woman standing in front of me. I don’t know what happened to her in Europe or with this guy, but I definitely don’t like it.

  If this guy put out her flame, I hope, for her sake, they don’t last.

  I can’t stand here looking at the happy couple any longer. Without another word, I turn away from them. Part of me hopes she’ll stop me and say this whole thing is a giant joke, will say they met on the plane and she thought it would be hilarious to screw with everyone and pretend she got engaged to a giant celebrity. But when I step foot out into the cold winter breeze and she hasn’t stopped me, I know my hopes are crushed. I finally allowed myself to feel what I really feel for Giselle, and she’s moved on to somebody else.

  There’s a party back at Marek’s house and everybody is waiting for me to bring her home. How the fuck am I going to deal with that?

  Chapter Six

  Giselle

  Why did he have to act that way? I was so incredibly excited and in love wrapped in our vacation bubble, but coming back to reality and bringing Wren with me was hard, so incredibly hard—especially when the first person I saw as soon as I walked into baggage claim was Anders.

  Ugh.

  “You want to tell me what was up with that dude?”

  I push my foot down on the accelerator as we speed down the highway, getting farther and farther away from Anders and his accusatory looks. I don’t know what I expected when I first saw him again, but that definitely wasn’t it. He didn’t want a relationship. He wanted a sex buddy and to keep it from my brother. I’m thirty-five years old and I’m tired of waiting for him to come around. I want to get married. I want to start a family, and he isn’t showing signs of growing up any time soon.

  Wren turns the radio off and looks at me expectantly. I switch lanes and quickly glance over at him, asking, “Huh?”

  “Adam something or other. What was his deal?”

  So, he sensed something was off. I’d hoped he wouldn’t notice, but I guess we aren’t very good actors after all. Not like the guy sitting next to me, who actually gets paid to do it—paid very well, I might add. I shrug my shoulders as I take the exit and slowly ease to a stop at the intersection.

  Looking over at my fiancé, I say, “You mean Anders? He’s my brother’s best friend and like another big brother to me. He was just being protective.” Even as I say the words, I try not to choke on them. If I even remotely saw him as a big brother, I wouldn’t have spent years fantasizing about him and relishing in every moment when he finally gave in and took me. I continue the act and add, “He’s just super protective of me, that’s all. Wants to make sure you’re good enough for me. Don’t worry about it.”

  Way to go, Giselle. How many times are you going to spit out the word protective?

  Wren releases a growl but tamps down his anger when he says, “You might only have familial feelings toward that man, but I can assure you that he doesn’t feel the same way. He
practically tried to pee on you in front of me like you belonged to him. You can’t be that dense. You realize that, right?”

  I can’t help the full-blown belly laugh that slips from my lips. If there’s one thing Anders has made blatantly clear for our entire adult lives, it’s that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. Obviously, what happened between us months back was a mistake for both of us, one that won’t ever be repeated.

  I pull into the valet of my favorite hotel in town and put the car in park. My apartment is still occupied through next week, and this trip home was definitely more spontaneous than I usually am or else I would have arranged to have my own place back. Since Wren has no family of his own, he instantly wanted us to come here so I could tell all of my family the good news in person. Hence us staying at a hotel until my place is free.

  Once I’m able to stop laughing, I turn to him and say, “Trust me, that man wants nothing to do with me, let alone marking me as his own. He’s made it very clear where we stand.”

  “Oh yeah, and what does that mean?”

  Shit.

  That’s not what I meant to say at all. Lying through my teeth, I tell him a half-truth and say, “Oh, I had a small crush on him when we were kids. He let me know he didn’t reciprocate my feelings, and it ended there. No big deal.”

  Nothing will ever happen between Anders and me again, so I don’t really see the point in letting Wren know we slept together. All that would do is cause unnecessary drama that we really don’t need. Although building our soon-to-be marriage on a lie isn’t the best idea either. The guilt nags at me, but I bury it deep down.

  “That might be, but I’m sure he’s singing a different tune these days.”

  I’ve never had guys fight over me before, and I have to admit the feeling of being wanted is kind of exhilarating—not that there’s any fighting going on.

  Changing the subject, I ask, “Why, Wren Danzig…are you jealous?”

  “Of that guy? Not even a little bit.”

  He leans over and plants his lips on mine, taking my breath away like every other kiss from him. I smile as he leans his forehead against my own, cupping the back of my head, holding me in place.

  “Good, because you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’m counting down the days until I can be Mrs. Danzig.”

  “I knew it—you’re just marrying me for my awesome last name.”

  Rolling my eyes, I pretend to act all offended and say, “Yeah, that’s right, because Outlaw is such a lame last name.”

  Wren pulls me in for one last kiss, completely stunning me when he says, “I don’t care whose last name we have. Let’s get out of here, get checked in, and go meet your family. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can come back and practice making babies.”

  I nod my head, completely in love with the man sitting next to me. I don’t know how I got so lucky.

  * * *

  A loud clatter echoes through the room as a porcelain platter of cupcakes crashes to the dark hardwood floor. It looks like a unicorn crime scene with rainbow sprinkles and frosting decorating every surface in the entryway. It’s a wonder the serving dish didn’t shatter upon impact.

  “Holy shoe!” Tinley says on a gasp. “Giselle, don’t be alarmed, but Wren Danzig is standing right behind you.” The stars in her eyes are unmistakable as she slides her hands down the front of her dress, straightening invisible wrinkles, the aforementioned dessert completely forgotten.

  Oh boy. This should be interesting.

  “Shit! Babe, are you okay?”

  My older brother comes barreling into the room with their infant son Cedric in his arms and their daughter Luna trailing behind.

  My favorite little girl is giggling and says, “Daddy has to put a dollar in the potty mouth jar.”

  That explains Tinley’s holy shoe comment and makes me wonder who is the culprit that caused that to start happening. It sounds like Luna has gotten to the age where she is repeating words, and not the ones she should be.

  The chaos surrounding us warms my heart, and I realize how much I missed it. These past few months with Wren have been incredible, and yet something was always missing. This is what it was. I’m finally home with my family and leaving again is not an option. This is where I’m supposed to be.

  The smile on my face isn’t faked or forced. It’s one hundred percent me, and it only gets wider as Luna’s focus turns toward me. She squeals in her little six-year-old voice and screams, “Auntie Giselle!”

  My knees collide with the hard floors and my arms open wide as she charges toward me and straight into my embrace. She giggles as I spin her around, dropping her back to her feet in front of me.

  “Auntie Giselle, want to see my chaînés turns?”

  I nod my head furiously and she not very gracefully spins around and around. I clap my hands with every turn until she crashes into the back of the sofa.

  “I’m…so…dizzzzzy,” she says as her little body slides to the hardwood floor and sprawls out in front of us.

  Walking over to her, I drop down on my haunches and study the silly girl. “Are you sure you’re my Luna Outlaw? Because I don’t remember my favorite six-year-old being a professional dancer good enough to dance in The Nutcracker in New York.”

  She beams up at me and replies sassily, “Daddy says I look like a chicken with its head cut off when I’m in dance class. Obviously, he just doesn’t know what good dancing looks like.”

  I start to laugh, and Tinley still looks like she’s going to hyperventilate when she finally says, “Are we not going to talk about the fact that Wren Danzig is at our house right now? Hello! Anyone?”

  “Babe, he’s just a person.”

  “Shhh, honey, you wouldn’t understand. This is girl talk.”

  I could let her squirm, but I decide to subtly break the truth to her. Pulling Wren into the house beside me, I place my left hand on his chest with my ginormous engagement ring on full display.

  It gets the expected result as Tinley squeals, hopping up and down. “Holy mother forking shirt balls. Is this real life?”

  It’s almost like she’s the one marrying him and not me.

  She suddenly stops, slowly lets go of a deep breath, and runs her hands down the front of her dress, again straightening it unnecessarily. She takes a step toward us with her hand out and says, “It’s so very nice to meet you, Mr. Danzig. I’m Tinley. We actually chatted with one another a while back when you booked that yacht through Wanderlust International. Did you enjoy your trip?”

  The trip neither one of us went on—not that it went to waste. Fifty of Wren’s “closest” friends all boarded, and not a single one of them noticed he didn’t set foot on the ship. They probably didn’t even think anything was wrong or realize who was footing the bill.

  Wren doesn’t even get to answer Tinley’s question before Luna starts talking again. She always has to be the center of attention. “Auntie Giselle, do you think we can celebrate my birthday together?”

  I absolutely hated being away for Luna’s birthday. Turning six is a huge milestone in a little girl’s young life, but I had to get away. I had to clear my head, and I’m so glad I did. Finally finding myself and realizing what I want in all aspects of my life was something I needed for my own survival.

  Dropping down on my knees to get eye level with my niece, I tell her, “If it’s okay with you, we can combine my engagement party with your birthday party. Does that sound like a plan?”

  She taps her little finger against her chin, and I can’t get over how grown-up she looks. “Can I wear a party dress?”

  “Of course.”

  She tilts her head to the side, contemplating my response, and asks, “What about a terraria?”

  Terraria? Oh! Tiara. “Your party dress wouldn’t be complete without one. Maybe we can find some sparkly shoes too.”

  Nodding her head slowly, she says, “Okay, I think that’s something we can arrange.”

  Who is this kid? I laugh a
s she runs off to the other room, yelling, “Mommy, guess what?”

  At some point Tinley and Marek must have left the room. I glance around at the remnants of the cupcake explosion and see half the mess has already been cleaned up. But there are noticeable spots of rainbow frosting staining the hardwood floor. I make a note to pop into a store this week and buy some floor cleaner. We did kind of spring our appearance on everyone after all.

  I turn to my fiancé. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t even think about asking you first.”

  Wren pulls me tighter to him with the biggest smile on his face. “You never have to ask my permission for things. What you just did is one of the reasons why I love you so much. You put everyone else first and are so incredibly selfless. It only makes me want to spoil you even more.”

  Any of the earlier feelings I had at the airport fall away. This is why I’m marrying Wren and not starting anything with Anders. Whenever I’m with Wren, I feel loved. I feel relaxed and calm. With Anders, I’m always feeling anxious or upset. My emotions are always haywire, and I never know what to expect with him. Having my mind at ease and knowing what I’m going to get is such a needed reprieve compared to the tumultuous uncertainty of me and Anders.

  “Do you have any ideas for an engagement party?”

  I almost jump at the sound of my mother’s voice. Where the heck did she just come from? I lean over slightly to look around her and, sure enough, my dad is stuffing his face with who knows what as he walks out of the kitchen.

  That’s not even something that has crossed my mind, not until I mentioned it to Luna just now. Of course, now we actually have to have one. Every so often I’ll get invitations to parties from different cosmetics companies and I’ve attended a few in the past, but to be honest, I’d much rather spend a night at home relaxing in front of the TV with a giant bowl of popcorn than be out partying it up.

  Popcorn.

  Just thinking about popcorn drags me back to that summer I first met Anders. Every single time I had popcorn, he was always stealing it from me.