Damon
"Wren," I said casually as I walked into the kitchen, tugging at my cufflinks, "do you need anything from town today? I'm headed for a meeting."
She glanced up from the kitchen counter where she was spreading peanut butter on Liam's toast. She wore a loose-fitting green t-shirt and those ridiculous but somehow endearing pyjama shorts covered in cartoon eggs.
"Actually, yes," she said. "Liam’s out of apple juice, and we’re low on groceries in general. I was planning to go later. If the car starts."
I gave her a flat look. "That death trap you call a car?" You’re not driving it again not after the last incident."
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
"Fine, Commander. Then we’ll walk or take your jaguar."
"No, you won’t walk." I grabbed my keys. "Come with me. I’ll drop you two
