Page 47 of Feels Like Love
“Apparently,” she seethed. “They think it’s inappropriate that I allow him to wear the things he does. To take dance classes. To…well, whatever.” She threw her hands in the air.
I stood, ready to punish them for how they’d treated Wren. How their son had treated her. It was a good thing Kade had left town years ago. As far as I knew, he never visited, and for that, I was glad. But for his parents to say what they had… To think they had any right to anything when it came to River…
“That’s bullshit. And they had no right to say that.”
“They underestimate me. Which is fine—everyone does.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Nothing. Forget it.”
“Wren,” I growled. I couldn’t help it. “Explain.”
“I’m tired. It’s nothing.” She shook her head and turned for the hall. “I have another early shoot tomorrow. Good night, Bennett.”
My feet were moving before my mind could catch up. “Wren.” I was careful to keep my voice low so I wouldn’t wake River. I placed a hand on her shoulder and spun her so her back was against the wall and my arms were caging her in. “Talk to me.”
She blew out a breath. “I’m so sick and tired of everyone seeing me a certain way.”
“What way is that?” I asked, unable to keep myself from studying the dark sweep of her eyelashes, the slope of her nose, the scar near her eyebrow that somehow made her even more beautiful.
She glanced down at the floor, at the wall behind me, anywhere but at me. Where was all the sass? Where was the Wren I knew and loved?
“Wren?” I placed my hand on her collarbone, covering her port-wine stain birthmark with my palm. My tone was gentle, coaxing, the same way I’d speak to one of the animals I worked with.
“I’m just so sick of being seen as ‘sweet’ or ‘cute’ or, worse still, naïve.I’mthe one raising River.I’mhis mom. They have no right to say what he can wear. Let alone who he should or shouldn’t be.” She had tears in her eyes, but I knew they were from anger.
She’d always been that way. If she got really upset, she often cried. And she was right; people in the past had underestimated her, perceiving her emotions as a weakness. I thought she was strong. It took strength to be vulnerable. It was something I was still working on.
“Why does it bother you so much?” I asked, smoothing my hand up her neck. “Other people’s opinions don’t matter. Least of all that asshole’s parents.” I knew that was easier said than done, but it was something I’d been working on for years.
“Because they’re not the only ones. I know how some people in this town talk about my son and me.”
“Fuck ’em. Fuck all of them.”
She scoffed. “Easy for you to say.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Have you looked in the mirror?”
My brow rose. Color me intrigued. And while I knew I should’ve shut that shit right down, did I?
No.
No. Instead, I heard myself asking, “You think I’m hot?”
She rolled her eyes, and I wanted to laugh because it reminded me of all the times she’d done that as a little kid. I was her older brother’s best friend. To Liam, Wren was the annoying little sister. But I’d never viewed her that way. She’d always been sweet and sassy, making me laugh like no one else could.
“I’m just saying—you’re Bennett Nash. You’re strong and kind. You heal animals. All you have to do is look at a woman and her panties melt.” I was still trying to process her words, while simultaneously committing them to memory, when she said, “And then there’s me…” She scoffed. “Well, I couldn’t get a guy to touch me with a ten-foot pole even if I paid him.”
“That’s not true,” I said. Though it pained me that she believed it.
“It’s not?”
I cupped her cheeks, forcing her to meet my gaze. I couldn’t say the words, but I shook my head slowly, wanting her to see the truth of it in my eyes.
“You are so beautiful.”
