Going Down On One Knee (A Mile High Matched Novel Book 1)

by Christina Hovland

  “Fine.” Velma stood, but crud her hip really hurt. She winced and sat back down. Ice sounded really good right about now.

  Jase raised his I-told-you-so eyebrows.

  “If you want to try to catch Brek, that’s great. I’ll call his mom with an update and head…home.” She looked to Wayne. “I can walk myself to my car.”

  “Nope.” Wayne glanced to the unruly crowd. “I’ll see you get out of here in one piece.” He held his hand to her once more. This time, reluctantly, she took it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The deep bass of Dimefront’s signature chorus pulsated through the building as the band rocked the stage. Brek felt those chords down to his marrow, but he pulled the contract closer. Tonight, he had business.

  Hans shouted across the small table, but hearing was impossible. Even this far away from the speakers, the music filled every molecule of air.

  Brek stilled his tapping foot. He used to crave the sensation—the music, the lights, the endless string of women and booze.

  Tonight, he only craved Velma.

  Hans whisked the pen along on the dotted line. Brek let out a breath of relief. He folded the papers and smacked them against his hand, the tempting pull of the exit a siren’s song. He needed to get to Velma. Explain to her everything that had happened. Or…almost everything.

  “Looking forward to the future.” Hans stuck out his hand.

  Brek shook it. “Me, too.”

  Brek and Hans had not only come to an agreement with the band that they’d stay together through the scheduled tour, but Hans would act as full manager when Brek needed to be home. If everything went as they’d discussed, Brek wouldn’t have to travel as much in the future, and he could focus his attention on all that he now had in Denver.

  The whole thing was hush-hush for now until a firm agreement could be hashed out. But soon he’d be able to tell Velma.

  Then he’d find a comfortable bar he could buy and renovate, and he would use his connections to bring the best bands to Denver.

  “Sorry about your phone.” Hans winced.

  Brek shifted where he stood. “Shit happens.”

  Shit had happened. Shortly after he’d arrived, Brek had excused himself to call Velma and let her know his plans had to change. As it generally happened, one woman had leeched onto him. She had shamelessly flirted. He’d ignored her. Then she’d snatched his phone and with a coy, “Oops,” dropped it in a pitcher of Budweiser. Pouting her Botox-filled lips, she said something about needing his full attention. He couldn’t hear her exact words due to the blood rushing through his ears at the time.

  Needless to say, the phone was fried, and he couldn’t reach Velma. He’d had Botox Barbie removed from the club. That went about as well as you’d expect. She spit and hissed the whole way to the exit. The bouncer had the fingernail scratches to prove it.

  Then the next groupie took her place at Brek’s side. And when he shook her off, another, and another.

  At one point in his life—hell, a few months ago—he’d loved that part of the business. Now? He had Velma. She may not have been ready to declare her feelings for him, but they were there. He hoped like fuck they were there. They had to be there.

  “Brek!” a guy called over the music.

  He turned to the direction of his name, scanning the packed room.

  Jase shoved through a mass of VIPs and Brek’s chest went tight. What the heck was Jase doing there?

  Brek hurried toward Jase, leaning to yell in his ear. “How fucked am I?”

  No doubt Velma had handled the dinner perfectly, but he felt like shit for standing her up. Hopefully, all he’d worked for that night would make amends for his screwup.

  “Aspen’s in labor,” Jase hollered back.

  Brek’s pulse skipped and a headache formed at his temple. “How long?”

  “No idea. Velma tried to get in here to tell you, but she got hurt when the crowd went crazy outside. Don’t worry, the car had nothing on her.”

  “Car? What? Is she okay?” Brek’s breath hitched.

  “Should be home by now. I left her with a cop who was way too handsy for my liking. She said they know each other, and he promised to help Velma to her car.” Jase started toward the nearest exit.

  Sweat formed along Brek’s neck, and not from the heat of hundreds of bodies shaking their asses on the nearby dance floor. God, Velma had to be all right. “I’ve gotta get to her.”

  Jase caught his shoulder before he could leave. “Yeah. You should know she saw that chick give you her number. Velma wasn’t thrilled. But A-plus for ditching it fast.”

  “Fuck.” Brek muscled his way through the crowd.

  Which of the multitude of chicks had Velma seen?

  He threw open the thick black exit door. Cool Colorado air provided a soothing balm against the bullshit of the night. The group outside parted only slightly. Brek and Jase had to elbow their way through the crowd. A drunk chick with over-teased hair bumped into Brek and caught his arm. She flashed a fake grin. “What’s the hurry?”

  He shook her off.

  Shit. There were literally people everywhere. This is insane.

  Jase headed toward the street. “The fuck happened tonight?”

  Brek matched his stride. “Phone died.”

  “You should’ve seen Velma at dinner. She kept looking at the door and checked her cell about a bazillion times.”

  “Long story,” Brek muttered.

  Jase smacked his shoulder. “Hope it’s a good one.”

  “How’d you get in the club, anyway?” Brek asked as they moved around the edge of the crowd.

  “There are certain things no one needs to know.” Jase smirked as they moved through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Call your mom, check on Aspen.”

  Brek took the phone Jase handed him and dialed.

  “Ma, how’s Aspen?” He stopped walking and held a hand up against his other ear so he could hear.

  “Things slowed way down. She’s resting. They’re not thinking anything’s going to happen until morning.” Ma sounded wiped.

  “You need anything? I can come wait with you.” Brek dropped his head.

  “Go on home. I’ll call you when things change.”

  “I want to be there for you. When you need me.” Soon he’d be an uncle. He blinked against the emotion in his throat.

  “There’s nothing anyone can do right now. Get some rest tonight. Love you, Brek.”

  “Back at you.” He swiped at the screen to end the call.

  “Everything okay?” Jase asked.

  “Yeah. Gonna be awhile.” Brek started dialing Velma’s number.

  “Are you Brek?”

  Brek glanced up as a cop strutted over to them. Full uniform. Full jackass. Brek trusted him about as far as he trusted gas station sushi.

  “Yeah?” Brek asked, only stopping because the guy blocked them from continuing down the sidewalk.

  “You’re the guy with Velma?” the cop guy asked.

  “Look, man. Now’s not a good time.” Brek held up a palm and tried to move forward.

  The idiot stepped closer, right into Brek’s space.

  “Wayne.” He stretched his hand to shake Brek’s.

  “Brek.” Brek shook it.

  Wayne had balls. Brek gave him that. He also had a uniform and a gun, so Brek elected to behave.

  “She’s home.” Wayne glanced from Brek to Jase and back. “She deserves better than to be left on the curb like that.”

  “Trust me, Officer. You do not want to do this tonight.” Jase stepped into position at Brek’s right.

  Wayne held up his hands in mock resignation. “Not doing anything. Just making sure she’s being taken care of.”

  Wayne crossed his arms but clearly made sure his badge stayed visible. Yeah. Brek got the message.

  “You’re gonna break her heart. And when you do, I’ll be there to put it back together.”

  Jase moved in closer and jerked his chin toward Fuckwit
. “She’s only warming one bed tonight, and it’s not this jackass’s.”

  Wayne smirked like a fuckin’ candy-ass. “For tonight. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.”

  Brek leaned through the few inches Wayne had left between them. “Leave her. The fuck. Alone.”

  “Or what?” Wayne narrowed his eyelids, sizing him up.

  “Not stupid enough to threaten a cop, asshole. You sure you want to play this game? Because you’ll lose.” Brek’s fingertips itched to strangle the son of a bitch.

  Jase grabbed Brek’s arm.

  “I’m not thinking that’s gonna happen. Which of us would make her the happiest? Pretty sure you know that’s not you.” Wayne moved to the side. “Have a good night, gentlemen.”

  Wayne strode away.

  Brek clenched his back teeth so hard they should have cracked.

  Jase rocked back on his heels. “We both know he’s wrong.”

  “Yeah.” Brek stared down at the phone in his palm. He punched in Velma’s number. Her cell rang several times before her voice mail picked up: “Hi, you’ve reached Velma, please—”

  He hung up and handed it back to Jase.

  Jase pinched his lips closed. “Probably better you talk to her in person.”

  Brek jogged toward his bike. An acrid twinge pinched in his chest. He would never outrun the truth of Wayne’s words.

  Velma limped to her bedroom with her laptop under her arm and an ice pack against her backside. She propped a pillow under her hip, grimacing at the ache.

  Her ringtone came from her phone in the other room. Ugh. She’d left it on the counter. She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and hobbled to the kitchen.

  “Hello?” she said into the phone, dropping her elbows to the counter.

  Double ugh. She’d missed the call from Jase. She dialed him back. Voice mail.

  Claire had asked her to do a slide show for the reception, and all that was left was the background music. Velma had hoped Brek might help her choose the songs, but it looked like she would be on her own. She moved back to the bedroom.

  Frustration from the night bubbled in her veins. She shook it off and lifted the screen on her laptop. Instead of clicking the video maker, she clicked open her spreadsheet program. Her cheeks flushed when she stared at her long-neglected dating file.

  She tapped the arrow keys, scrolling the file to the bottom. She fell back against the pillows and added Wayne’s name. No surprise, he got a nine. But Wayne had never once made her toes curl or her blood pressure rise—in the best way. He’d never challenged her or made her try new things. Not the way Brek had.

  Brek’s encounter with the groupie at the club. His absence at dinner. They replayed in her mind as she stared vacantly at the cells. She smacked her laptop lid closed and placed it aside.

  “Velma?” Brek shouted from the kitchen. The clank of his keys against the counter and his boots against the wood floor were a relief she hadn’t expected.

  “I’m in here.” Her voice cracked. She pushed herself up.

  He burst in, dropped next to her on the bed, and wrapped her in his arms. It had only been one evening, but it felt like forever.

  “Thank God,” he said against her forehead. “Jase said you got hurt.”

  He held her away from him, his gaze settling on the pillow she’d propped against her backside. His hand went to her waist, just above the bruise. “How bad is it?”

  “I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing.” Their breaths mingled as he pulled her to him once more. “Aspen’s in labor. Did Jase tell you?”

  “Called Ma. No baby yet. She’ll call your phone when I need to head that way.” He let out a long sigh, not releasing her. “I fucked up and I’m sorry. Shit happened tonight at the club, and my phone’s no longer capable of making or receiving calls. What happened was a fluke. I don’t want to miss anything.”

  “You seemed to be having a good time when I saw you there,” she said against his throat.

  He shifted on the bedspread, laying her back into the cocoon of pillows she had settled into earlier. His heavy boots clunked to the carpet. He stretched out beside her, resting his hand on the ice pack. “Things took longer than expected.”

  “Did it go okay? The meeting?”

  Something funny passed over his face. “Yeah.”

  “That’s good.” Just because it was good didn’t make it okay that he’d missed being where he’d promised.

  “Sometimes my job gets in the way. Your job gets in the way. That’s how it goes,” he pointed out.

  “My job doesn’t have groupies.” She traced one of the flowers on her comforter with her fingertip.

  He frowned, his expression hard. “Maybe not, but you’ve got an asshole cop friend.”

  Whoa. What the heck?

  “Don’t talk about Wayne like that. He hardly compares to the girl feeling up your muscles.” Velma glanced to the balcony, ignoring the pang of hurt in her heart.

  Brek tugged her chin back so she faced him. He squared his jaw. “I’ll avoid the groupies. You avoid him. He made it clear tonight he wants to move in on what’s mine. I’m not puttin’ up with that.”

  Velma gasped. “What?”

  “Didn’t stutter. Wayne’s a giant dick with a little prick. It’s bad enough he’s got a badge. I’ll keep the groupies at a distance, you keep that asshole away.”

  She didn’t particularly care about Wayne, but he was a friend and Brek did not get to barge in and tell her whom she could and couldn’t see. She met his stare in a silent standoff.

  Her phone rang again. She reached for it.

  Pam.

  “It’s your mom.” Her words sounded scratchy as she held up the screen.

  He didn’t answer it, instead holding it until it stopped buzzing. “I’ll call her back after we sort this out.”

  Velma crossed her arms under her breasts and met his stare. “You’re being totally ridiculous about everything. Wayne’s a family friend. I’m not banning him from seeing me.”

  “He’s a family friend who wants you for himself.” Brek tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

  “That’s really unfair,” Velma said, the words soft.

  Brek headed toward the bedroom door. He paused. “I don’t trust him. Guys like that weasel their way into your life and screw everything up.”

  “Why are you acting like this?” she asked, leaning on her elbow. “Jealousy? You’ve got to be kidding. It’s not like that with him.”

  Brek dropped his hands to his waist. “Not asking for a lot, just that you respect what we have enough to send him packing.”

  He dipped his head and the muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “Brek…” she started to say, but he was already heading for the door, her phone pressed against his ear.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Night Before Claire & Dean’s Wedding

  They’d placed bets on how long it would take to get tossed out of Hank’s Bar during Claire and Dean’s coed bachelor-slash-bachelorette party. “They” being Jase, Eli, Heather, and the bride and groom. In other words, everyone was in on the bet but Brek and Velma.

  Brek took a pull of his Coors. Eli lounged on the other side of the booth. Dean and Claire wouldn’t get off the damn dance floor—they slow danced even to the fast songs. And Heather and Velma had taken up residence on a pair of stools along the bar top to gab.

  When Brek had asked Dean what he wanted to do for his bachelor party, this was not what he’d had in mind.

  Then again, nothing in his life lately was what he’d had in mind.

  “You know what we should do next?” Jase asked.

  “I bet you’re gonna tell me.”

  “We should knit lace doilies and then go to one of those paint-by-number places where they serve wine.”

  “I’m in.” Eli jerked his chin in their direction. “It’s either that or we head back to your apartment and play drunk Pictionary.”

  Brek grunted in reply. He
flagged the waitress for another round.

  “Why are Velma and her friend over at the bar?” Dean slid into the booth across from Brek. He grabbed his beer and took a slug.

  “’Cause Velma and Brek are having a tiff.” Jase leaned forward, apparently ready to dish.

  “What’re you two fighting over that’s making the boys and girls separate like a middle school dance?” Dean wore the Buy Me a Shot, I’m Tying the Knot T-shirt Velma had bought for him.

  Claire had a matching pink version of the tee, along with a rhinestone tiara and black sash that read Bachelorette.

  Velma hadn’t stopped there—the rest of them got sashes that read “I Do” Crew. They’d all actually worn the damn sashes, too. Jase, ’cause he was Jase. Brek, ’cause he didn’t want to hurt V’s feelings. And Eli, ’cause everyone else was.

  “Oh. My turn to tell.” Jase waved for everyone to lean in closer.

  This ought to be good. Brek scooted forward.

  “See, Brek missed an important dinner.” He was right so far. “Then Velma fell on her ass and got hit on by a cop.” Still accurate. “Then Brek’s sister had her baby.” Also correct.

  Well, that was the drunk CliffsNotes version of events.

  Velma had been tense since he’d asked that she stay away from Wayne. He got that she didn’t want to be told what to do. What he did not get was why this Wayne idiot remained so important to her. The dude was a first-class, grade-A prick.

  “I’m going to go dance with the pretty bridesmaid talking to Velma.” Jase scooted out of the booth and headed for Velma’s friend Heather.

  “Seriously, what’s going on with you two?” Dean squinted at Brek.

  Dean had been busy with all the wedding stuff, and given he’d be Velma’s new brother-in-law soon, Brek was keeping his lips zipped when it came to their relationship until he figured out what he was going to do about everything.

  “I’m in love with her.” There. He’d said it out loud to someone who wasn’t Velma. She knew. The rest of the world might as well know, too.

  Brek should’ve had his camera ready to capture Dean’s shocked expression.