Ezra
I shrug on my armless jacket—careful not to jerk my injured arm—and hover over Wren’s sleeping form.
“My pretty girl,” I murmur, and plant soft kisses on her cheeks and face.
She mumbles something in her sleep, her nose scrunching up adorably before she rolls on her other side.
A smile spreads across my face. “Sweetheart?” I try again, this time, tapping her softly.
Finally, she rolls on her back and her eyes flutter open. Bright blue, sleepy eyes stare up at me, a pout on her lips.
“Hey.” I push her hair away from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Good morning, Birdie.”
She smiles softly. “Hi.” Her eyes rake down my body, and a frown replaces her smile. “Where are you going?”
“Remember the meeting we have at the clubhouse? The mole?”
“Oh!” Her eyes widen and she si
