TWO YEARS LATER…
We’re at my parents’ house in the Hamptons, celebrating Christmas. Why we’re out here, I’m not quite sure, but my mother wanted to do something different this year, and she didn’t want to spend it with the other Lancasters.
“We have our own family now,” she explained. “With Grant and Alyssa, and Perry and Charlotte. Oh, and you and Wren. And soon there will be plenty of grandchildren.”
She told me this at Thanksgiving, when she called me. Talk about making my balls shrivel up.
“Yeah, well, don’t expect any grandchildren from us yet,” I told her with a nervous chuckle.
Wren just shot me a dirty look, though her eyes were dancing, as if she found my sudden pain hilarious.
She’s a bad girl.
My bad girl.
Presents were already opened earlier this morning. Brunch had been served hours ago and now we’re getting ready for dinner. A formal affair, we’ve all been notified that the men wear suits and the women wear semi-formal dresses.
This sent Wren into distress.
“I don’t know what to wear.” She has four dresses hanging on the closet door, contemplating them as she chews on her fingernail.
I come to stand beside her, tilting my head to the side. “I like that one.”
It’s black and stretchy looking, the fabric shot through with silver sparkly thread. It’ll cling to her like a glove and have me lusting for her the entire night.
I’m into torturing myself when it comes to Wren and her unequivocal hotness, so I’m down.
“Really?” She waves a hand at the dress covered with gold sequins. “I like that one better.”
I shake my head. “Save that one for New Year’s.”
She turns to smile at me. “That’s a good idea.”
Decision made, she grabs the dress and goes inside the walk-in closet to put it on, shutting the door behind her.
“I’ve seen you naked before,” I remind her.
Soft laughter is my answer.
“Why are you getting dressed in there?” I shuck my jeans and slip on a pair of black trousers, realizing I’ll only be able to change into half my outfit because my shirt is hanging in the closet, which is currently occupied by Wren.
“I want it to be a surprise,” she tells me.
I tear off my sweater and stand there waiting for her shirtless. She takes her sweet time, which I know is how she operates, yet I’m impatient anyway. She fusses over her tits and worries they’ll look too big and I have to reassure her that they’re perfect. Because they are.
Just like she is.
The past two years we’ve spent together nonstop, traveling the world. We decided to forego college and get some real-life experience, with Wren adding to her growing art collection during our travels. She came into a small trust fund when she turned eighteen from her mother’s side of the family, and she’s been investing wisely in unique pieces of art ever since.
I might buy her a piece or two, but she deters more than encourages my indulgence in her. Her parents recent divorce and subsequent division of assets has put worry in her, and I hate that.
The Beaumont art collection is a wondrous thing, and it was recently sold in two separate auctions with Sotheby’s. Her parents made an absolute killing. Cecily has already started a new collection.
Wren cried both days of the auction, too overcome at the loss of all that art. She doesn’t know about the piece I bought for her at a different auction, a piece her mother spotted in the Sotheby’s catalog and called me right away to tell me about it.
She will soon enough though. As in tonight.
We’ve traveled all over Europe. Spent a month in Japan. A summer in the Canadian mountains. Two weeks in Switzerland. We return to home base because it’s necessary, and Wren likes to catch up with Maggie, and Lara and Brooke, who are all going to college in New York City. Plus, she wants to spend time with her mother.
Her relationship with her father still isn’t the best, and there was even a period where she didn’t talk to him at all, but they’re speaking more now. She even went and saw him yesterday for Christmas Eve, which was a huge step. He’s living with Veronica, who no longer works for him. She hates art, but she does love spending Harvey’s money.
Figures.
It’s not trendy, spending the holidays in the Hamptons, but my mother has always wanted to be more of a trendsetter. More like she’s adopted that Lancaster trademark I don’t give a shit attitude the rest of us have.
Wren’s mother is here as well, because I asked her to come. I want her to witness what is about to happen tonight, because it’s a game changer.
A life changer.
“Okay, ta da!” Wren kicks the door open, and she throws her arms out, that dress clinging to her sexy as fuck body, just like I knew it would.
My gaze roams over her, not sure where to land first. “Holy shit.”
“What do you think?” She turns, revealing that the back of the dress is completely open before she whirls back around to face me. “You like? Oh, I can already tell you do.”
I lunge for her, my hands on her waist, my mouth on hers. She presses her hands on my chest, holding me off yet again. “Where’s your shirt?”
“In the closet where you were.”
She slides her hands down, her fingers curling around the waistband of my trousers. “I think you should go to Christmas dinner just like this.”
“Fine.” I tug on the neckline of her dress, the stretchy material moving freely, until one perfect tit is hanging out. “And you get to go like this.”
“I don’t think so.” She lets go of me and tucks herself back in, mock glaring at me. “You need to finish getting ready.”
As I get dressed, I do my best to ignore the nerves growing within me, hoping this too observant girl doesn’t figure me out just yet. She’s seemingly oblivious, her good mood wearing off on me, until I can’t help but smile too.
This is what she does to me. Makes me happy. Lifts me up. Doesn’t let me get away with being a total asshole—most of the time. She’s sweet and fun and smart and interesting and I enjoy spending every day with her.
And though we’re young and she’s only just turning twenty fucking years old, I know without a doubt, I don’t want to live my life without her. I need to make things official.
Hopefully, she’ll say yes.
We eventually leave the guest room we’re sharing and head downstairs to the formal dining room, where everyone is waiting. Drinks in hand and appetizers readily available. Wren’s mother is talking with Alyssa, who is very pregnant with Grant’s baby—a girl. Just knowing he’s going to bring a female into the world has changed my brother completely. He’s nicer to all women, and won’t let our father say one bad word about the first grandchild being a girl.
Even though he wants to, the misogynistic old bastard.
Finn came to the Hamptons alone—perpetually single and happy about it. Charlotte is with her husband Perry, and though they’ve been through a lot, they look happy. In love.
Dad is slinging back scotch and Mother is fussing over the flower centerpieces. Wren goes to help her—my girl still loves to fuss too—and while she’s distracted, I make sure the piece I had delivered earlier is where I instructed it to be placed. I check my pocket to make sure the ring is still there, and yeah, it hasn’t grown legs and ran off.
Fuck, I’m nervous.
“I have an announcement,” I call to the room and everyone turns to look at me, questioning expressions on their faces.
Especially Wren’s.
Praying like hell I don’t fuck up my prepared speech, I launch into it.
“So there was a girl I didn’t know who walked onto campus our freshman year, and I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I hated her on sight.”
My brothers laugh. So does my father. My mother just sighs and shakes her head.
Wren smiles at me, already knowing this story.
“There was something about her that I saw in myself, though I never truly believed we had anything in common. How could we? She was the complete opposite of me, or so I thought. Until we had psychology together our senior year. And our teacher paired us up for a project. I learned a lot about her, and she learned a lot about me. And yeah, we were also drawn to each other, so now here we are. Together for the last two years. The best two years of my life.” I smile at her, and she smiles in return, her expression suddenly nervous too.
Does she know what I’m about to do?
“I realized that what I saw in her before wasn’t what I saw in myself. Not at all. Wren isn’t like me. She’s an actual part of me. And I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”
The room has gone completely silent. Wren’s eyes shine with unshed tears.
“You might hate me for this, doing this on your birthday and Christmas but…” I go to her and drop to one knee, taking her hand in mine. “Wren, I love you so damn much. Will you marry me?”
I reach inside my pocket and pull out the ring I chose just for her.
A single diamond solitaire, round cut. Simple. Three carats. Large enough, but not over the fucking top like the rings worn by every other Lancaster bride that’s ever existed.
And it’s dangling off the stick of a cherry Blow Pop.
“Oh my God.” She bursts out laughing, her cheeks turning pink, and I smile. “Really, Crew?”
“Answer me, Birdy.” I hold the lollipop—and the ring—out to her.
“Yes,” Wren whispers, her gaze meeting mine as she nods over and over again. “Yes, yes!”
I pull the ring off the Blow Pop and slip it on her finger, and she splays them out, the diamond winking up at her and nearly blinding me.
Rising to my feet, I pull her into my arms, kissing her senseless. Someone starts to clap and soon the entire room is filled with applause. Even my father is clapping and smiling, and that’s quite the accomplishment.
“Oh my God, I love you,” Wren says just for me, kissing me yet again.
“What the hell is up with the Blow Pop?” Finn asks, his gaze dropping to where I still clutch it in my hand.
“Private joke,” I tell him.
Wren smacks my chest lightly, smiling.
Her mother approaches us, pulling me in so she can deliver a quick kiss to my cheek. “I am so proud to have you as my future son-in-law.”
“Thank you.” Cecily and I have always gotten along. We both only want the best for the most important person in our world.
Wren.
“Are you ready to give her the other present?” Cecily asks.
Wren gasps, her wide eyes on me. “There’s another present? Crew, if you keep this up, you will eventually never be able to top yourself.”
I just laugh. “I’m not worried about that. And yes, Cecily. I’ll go grab it.”
I walk into the small sitting room that’s connected to the dining room and grab the canvas before I bring it into the dining room for Wren to see. The moment she spots it, she covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with shock.
Her gaze goes to her mother, and then to me. “Where did you find this?”
“Sotheby’s,” Cecily answers for me. “There was another auction. One that got overshadowed by ours.”
There’s sadness in Wren’s mother’s eyes, and I understand why. Losing her marriage, her art, hasn’t been easy for her. But she’s strong. She’s already doing so much better.
Wren drops her hand to her side and slowly approaches the piece. Another one by the same artist, this one untitled, though it matches A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime. Made at the same time but smaller, with those multi-layered Chanel kisses all over the canvas.
“I thought this one went missing,” Wren says, her gaze sliding over to me.
“Thank your mom. She found it. I just bought it.”
She turns to her mother, smiling at her before she rushes me, wrapping her arms around me so tight I swear she’s got me in a stranglehold. She kisses me in front of everyone, pulling away so she can murmur, “You’re in trouble now.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
Her mouth finds mine yet again, soft and sweet, and I drown in her taste. Loving that this woman is mine. All mine.
When the kiss is over, Wren smiles, the sight of it stealing all the air from my lungs.
“Now you owe me two million kisses.”
