He tucked a blue lock behind her ear. “I understand that you get me,” Lee said, loving the way the truth felt. “And sharing things with you makes me happy. What else do I need to know?”
“Look, Lee, you’re a really nice guy—”
“Stop." He had to stop her. She was going to walk away from him — again. And he couldn’t let her do that. A certainty — one that drove from the top of his head down into his heels — told him that if he let her walk away, he’d never forgive himself. “You don’t get to tell me why you think we won’t work.”
Wren rolled her eyes. “But wewon’twork. I’m not what you want.”
Lee froze. “How can you think that?” At her words, Lee realized he wanted Wren Blanchard more than he’d wanted any woman in his life.
“Guys I date don’t want to have dinner at my grandmother’s.” She eyed him meaningfully, as if he should have already known this.
“You’ve been dating the wrong guys.”
Wren only frowned.
He had to make her understand. “Do you know who likes this house almost as much as I do?” Lee asked.
Wren’s frown deepened. “No…? Who?”
“You.” The startled look on her face almost made him laugh. “I love this house, Wren. As soon as I met the realtor on the front porch, I knew I wanted it. Seeing the inside only sealed the deal for me.” He remembered the day with a sense of vindication. “My dad and stepmom told me not to buy it. Marcelle told me not to buy it, but I bought it anyway.”
“They didn’t like it?” Wren asked, horrified.
Lee shook his head. “My dad didn’t like the neighborhood. He says this area’s too ‘unstable.’ Barbara, my stepmom, said the house was old and would require too much upkeep.”
Wren raised a brow. “What did Marcelle say?”
Lee couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a little head swagger when she spoke. He already knew Wren was no fan of Marcelle’s, but the move stirred him. She had no reason to be, but Wren was jealous. And threatened.
Lee brought his hands to the small of her back and pulled her closer to him. “She hated it. All of it." He ducked down and planted a kiss against the slope of her neck, wanting her to know how special she was. Lee met her eyes. “And you like it—”
“I love it,” she blurted, looking almost indignant. “Who couldn’t love this house?”
A smile that was half joy and half gratitude split his face. Did she understand what she was saying? The house held so much of what he valued, so much of who he was. Her approval of his house felt like an affirmation of him.
He brought a hand up to her face and cupped her cheek. “Being with you is so easy.” But instead of smiling at his words, doubt filled her gaze. “When you aren’t trying to push me away, I mean.”
The look in her eyes changed, her doubt edged with fear. “What do you mean by easy?”
Lee sighed. He wanted to explain without making the people in his life into villains. They weren’t villains. They were who they were, and he loved them. But that didn’t make them easy to be with.
“It’s like that Ingrid Michaelson song. You take me the way I am.”
He watched her eyes, but they were still cautious, unyielding.
“You don’t want to change me. You don’t want me to be something else. With you, I feel good enough." Lee shook his head, not liking the words. “Not just good enough.Good.”
She almost wilted in his arms. “You aren’t just good enough,” Wren said, looking miserable. “You’retoogood.”
His breath left him in a rush. “What?!”
Wren just stared at him.
He couldn’t believe what she’d said, but Lee could see she wasn’t joking.
“Wren, what the hell do you mean?”
She looked down and shook her head. “I mean… I’m not good enough for you, and you might as well know it now, before…”