Wren
When Ezra told me I had a package, I didn’t expect a dress, shoes and flowers.
But I wasn’t surprised. It’s Ezra. The man spoils me silly.
“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, sliding a hand around my waist.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ears. “Thank you. You look great too, but when did you get this dress?”
“When I was sure of the date that we’d be coming here.”
“You spoil me too much, babe.”
“Are you complaining?” He raises a brow.
I laugh. “I could never. I love it.” Then I hand him my necklace, one of the jewelry he got for me. “Put this on for me, please.”
Gently, he clasps it behind my neck, kisses me and leads me to the bed.
My brows draw together. “Ezra, we’re not having s*x again.”
He snorts and breaks into laughter, eyes twinkling and shoulders racking.
“Sit, sw
