I turn to face her. “I can do that.”
“Prove it.”
So I do. I see no harm in simply holding her until she falls asleep.
Moments later she’s wrapped up in my arms, her head nested in the crook of my arm.
She cuddles up close to me and stretches one arm across my middle, pulling herself in closer. The noises she makes are kinda sweet. Like she’s settling in for a long winter’s nap after a tough day, and she’s found her favorite spot. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was a wispy fairy, or a flower I have to be careful not to crush.
Wren may look like and feel like a flittering little creature, bouncing from one thing to the next, but it seems to me that what she needs a soft place to land. She needs a strong, secure tree in which to build her nest. I can be that for her. I want to be that for her. A lesser man might win her heart and try to control all that boundless energy. Or lasso it to suit his own needs. Put out her flame, or redirect it to make him more and her less.
As I lie with her in my arms and listen to her breathing, feeling her warm breath against my chest, I know I can’t deny the truth. I can’t stomach the idea of anyone else being this close to her. Not physically, not emotionally.
I’m not an emotional man, but I know right now that’s about to change.
Wren is about to change everything for me.
Chapter Six
Wren
I wish I was still with Sam, lying in his bed, nestled in his arms. The feeling of him kissing the top of my head and petting my hair as I cozied up to him resulted in the most life-giving sleep I’ve ever had.
Sitting in this courtroom, enduring another day of testimony, I have to bite back a smirk when I remember this morning.
I woke up just like I fell asleep—warm and surrounded by Sam. It was perfection.
Which was rudely interrupted by Officer Max knocking on the door.
“Time to go. Shuttle is downstairs. Be ready in ten minutes.”
I shot up in bed and shook Sam by the shoulder. “Sam, time to wake up.”
Should be no surprise he sleeps like the dead.
He made a weird grunting noise and opened one eye. “Good morning, darlin’.”
“Did you not hear Max knocking on the door? We gotta go.”
“Not before I have my good morning kiss,” he said and pulled me down so I was face to face with him. Our lips met again. The kiss was warm and sweet, slightly longer than the one we shared last night. His soft mustache tickled me.
“Thank you for helping me get to sleep,” I said.
He petted my hair. “Thank you for the best night’s sleep ever. And for the nicest wake up.” Another peck on the forehead.
“We make a pretty good team,” I said.
“Not a very good team for getting ready on time, but a very good team for lounging.” My heart noticed his sexy morning voice.
“Lounging is better. Getting ready is overrated.” I hunkered back down in his arms and thrilled at the feel of his hands skimming over my back.
Maybe his half-awake state was to blame when he drawled out, “Once I’m retired, we can lie in bed all day.”
I swallowed. That there was future talk. Sam’s body seemed to freeze right then too, as if we’d both caught the meaning of what he just said.
“Right. Well. Better get up, I guess, before we’re in contempt of court.” His tone turned abruptly to all-business. But we both knew what he’d just said.
And now here I sit in this cold, imposing courtroom, and shit is really starting to get real.
All morning we listen to more witness testimony about this couple’s marriage, and it’s nothing but misery. The arguments that spilled into the street. Testimony from police who were called to investigate domestic disputes. The defense tries to build a case that the husband had been abusive, thereby allowing us to believe she had acted in self defense.
But despite everything we hear, I don't see any signs of physical or emotional abuse. All I see is an unhappy marriage.
And then my eyes start to leak.
Sam is making me fall for him. And if we fall for each other, where will we land? Would we end up like the Jacobsens? Would I slowly learn to resent him over the years. Would I become unable to sleep because he doesn’t touch me anymore, resulting in a sleeping pill habit and memory loss? Would I kill him in my sleep?
A tissue appears before me and I take it, looking up to see Sam casting his eyes at me reassuringly. I take it and blink at his rugged, calming face. He slowly, deliberately blinks back, communicating all the things he has no words for.
I dab at my eyes and my nose.
This one simple gesture gives me the boost I need to keep listening to the rest of the day’s testimony—forensic experts and the medical examiner—which, thank goodness, is the last of it.
By the end of the day, all of us are drained.
So when the shuttle arrives back at the hotel and Officer Max takes us up to the hospitality suite en mass, I’m a little bit irritated at first. All I want to do is stuff my face and go to bed.
But when we walk into the hospitality suite, there is a table spread with food and snacks according to everyone’s food and drink preferences. We all rejoice and attack the table like a group of hyenas. I fill up my plate with salad and stir fry, and gobble it down. I pour myself a huge glass of wine. Even Betty seems to be happy with her gluten-free dinner. Sam helps himself to a ribeye and a glass of whiskey.
While we’re all gorging ourselves on dessert, Officer Max gives us the biggest shock of all by rolling a movie projector into the room.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Somebody requested While You Were Sleeping.”
That’s when I know who’s behind all of this.
I whirl around and grab Sam by the arm. “Did you do this?”
He pulls up a chair and pats the cushion, indicating he wants me to sit next to him. All the rest of the jurors are so hard up for screen time, they happily take seats around the room to watch.
“Sam.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Are you responsible for all of this?”
His eyes are glued to the wall at the far end of the room where the projector is showing the movie. But I spot a certain familiar twinkle. “I plead the fifth,” he says.
“Come on,” I say, playfully hitting his shoulder.
Shh,” he says, “movie’s starting.”
Chapter Seven
Sam
If aliens ever watch movies like this to learn about Earthling biology, they’ll think we humans all lose all of our memories every time we receive a blow to the head.
If I understand the plot of this romantic comedy, It seems the lady from Speed has a job as the world’s most attractive subway attendant, and she falls in love with some generic financial middle manager type with big eyebrows.
Anyway, it turns out the lady from Speed ends up falling for the finance guy’s much more relatable and rugged brother. Rugged according to Hollywood standards, anyway. Bill Pullman. Or Paxton? I can’t keep ‘em straight.
Apart from having the most ridiculous plot ever, it’s kind of funny I guess. It’s not the worst movie I’ve ever seen. That title belongs to the one about the boy who falls in love with the Nazi who can’t read. How the hell did that get made?