Always Denver (Maple Hart)

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Always Denver (Maple Hart) Page 2

by Fel Fern


  “So. Will you please come with me to Ken’s wedding and reception?” I begged.

  “Reception included?” Wayne sounded baffled.

  “Uh yeah. I want to see the look on Ken’s face when he sees us dancing together.”

  “Is this the reason why you and Gideon dragged me to those stupid dancing lessons two weeks ago?” Wayne demanded.

  “Hey, Garth didn’t complain.”

  “He can’t, not when Gideon’s carrying his baby,” Wayne grumbled.

  “Oh come on, Wayne. You know me. We took those lessons because I had a coupon. Plus, it was fun, wasn’t it?”

  “Not for me. I have two left feet,” he grumbled.

  I closed the distance between us and nudged him in the ribs. Wayne let out a grunt. Even his grunt sounded sexy to me.

  Just great. I didn’t know what was happening between us or where this wall of sexual tension came from.

  No. I’d be lying if I said it came from nowhere. Things had slowly started to shift between us for a while now, ever since I broke up with Ken.

  “Don’t lie. You did have fun and you looked so cute, cursing and tripping all over me,” I said.

  Wayne glowered at me. Oh no. He must’ve hated those lessons. I knew he only accompanied me because he still felt sorry for me.

  In Wayne’s mind, it was his obligation to follow wherever I led because I was his best friend. It didn’t help I tended to get in trouble.

  “Plus, it’d be nice to get a hotel room. Swim in the pool. It’ll feel like a mini-vacation. My treat.” I added.

  I gave Wayne a nudge. He didn’t budge. If I threw myself at him and started rubbing myself all over him, I bet he’d loosen up.

  He’d even lose the cold attitude—which we both knew he was faking. Wayne could never stay mad at me for long.

  “Fine. We’ll go to Ken’s wedding,” he finally said.

  I started doing a happy dance. I even threw my arms around him.

  Uh-oh. Now I could feel his erection, digging against his jeans. No doubt Wayne could also feel mine. Wayne placed his hands on my waist and put some distance between us.

  That hurt a little.

  I was pretty sure I wasn’t imagining the spark between us. Over this weekend, I could turn that spark into a raging inferno.

  “One condition,” Wayne said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I get to ask for something in return,” he said.

  “You’re being very vague. Care to tell me what it is?”

  “No, later.” Wayne sounded dead serious. He even held out his hand.

  Oh well.

  What harm could it be?

  I got my way and I was going to make sure we’d raise some merry hell at Ken’s wedding. That was the only thing that mattered.

  I shook his hand, surprised by his firm grip.

  “Deal, baby.”

  3

  Wayne

  I impatiently tugged at my tie. I was more comfortable in a plain shirt and a pair of jeans but this wedding was a black-tie affair.

  The suits Denver and I wore weren’t new. They were rented and they sure as hell itched. Mine was supposed to be laundered. It smelled clean enough, like fabric softener, but it was far from comfortable.

  Fuck. I hated suits. I was going to wear jeans and a t-shirt during my own wedding.

  “This is a pretty nice place to hold the ceremony,” Denver remarked next to me.

  I had to agree with him there. The Maple View hotel was a charming little establishment located on the outskirts of town.

  The hotel building itself was almost fifty-years-old but it was obvious the owner maintained the place.

  Then there were the gardens that enclosed the hotel—gigantic, sprawling, and idyllic. I heard one had to book the place months in advance to be able to hold a wedding here.

  “I wondered if Ken pulled any strings to get a slot here,” I murmured.

  I wasn’t afraid of being heard. Denver found us a good spot in the back. The next guests were seated a couple of rows from us.

  I was big, nearly took up two chairs myself. My size almost always intimidated most people. The fact I was an Alpha didn’t help.

  What others thought of me used to bother me a lot in the past. Hanging out with Denver and his loud and obnoxious family eventually helped me find peace and self-acceptance.

  I didn’t want to change a single thing about me—especially if Denver liked me for who I was.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Denver said, then nudged me in the ribs. “Ooh, Ken looks awful dressed in white. I bet Carl picked his suit. My Alpha’s so much hotter.”

  My Alpha.

  My cock grew hard when Denver uttered those words. I wished I was his. I wished I could easily tell anyone that Denver was mine. My Omega.

  I’d shout it to the rooftops. Then I remembered we were only pretending to be a couple.

  I looked over the rows of standing guests to see Ken, standing uncomfortably in the sun and sweating profusely. The fabric of his white tux looked like it was made of velvet.

  Velvet? In this hot weather? How tacky.

  Then again, I felt a smidge of petty self-satisfaction. Ken looked so miserable when it should be the happiest day of his life.

  I never liked the prick and neither did Gideon and the rest of Denver’s big family.

  The musicians started to play. Carl strolled down the aisle, dressed in a matching white velvet tux.

  Denver sniggered next to me so loudly, the elderly couple sitting next to us gave us disapproving stares.

  I slid my arm over Denver’s shoulders and gathered him close to me. He looked away from the procession and stared up at me.

  For a second, I wondered if I imagined the look of longing that crossed his face. It soon disappeared.

  “What?” He asked.

  “Behave. We might be here for less than noble reasons, but we don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves either.” I reminded him.

  “Oh. Fine. Whatever.” Denver sulked.

  Certain he’d act more like an adult than a vengeful teenager, I released him, although I was reluctant to do so. We watched the grooms made their vows to each other.

  When the minister asked if anyone objected to their union, I was half terrified Denver would raise his hand.

  I knew he didn’t love Ken, not really. Denver even admitted he stuck with Ken only because he felt like he should. Denver had dated a couple of guys in the past but none of his relationships lasted more than a month.

  His family always teased him about his dating habits. Denver’s Omega dad, had on more than one occasion, told me I should just get together with his son. I could still Pop’s voice in my head.

  I know Denver’s a handful but wouldn’t it be nice if he had someone like you, Wayne? You’ll be the firm hand he needs.

  Firm hand indeed. Denver always got himself into trouble one way or another.

  The moment passed. The grooms kissed each other.

  Suddenly, I imagined it was us standing there, not Ken and Carl. We wouldn’t be wearing ugly velvet tuxedos for one.

  We’d invite every member of Denver’s big family. They’d be noisy as usual but I wouldn’t be able to hear any of them because my eyes were only for Denver.

  I imagined the entire world could go silent. It’d just be us, looking at each other. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. I would want to rip Denver out of his tux and—

  Denver pinched my arm, making me remember where I was.

  Ken and Carl started walking down the aisle. Denver wrapped his arm around me and squeezed my bicep. He was all over me, rubbing his sweet body over mine and making it hard to think.

  Denver pressed a kiss to my lips—it was brief and fleeting but a taste was enough.

  I was rocking a hard-on for him.

  I noticed Ken gave us both a surprised look, before turning his attention back to his demanding groom. Even from where we were standing, I cou
ld hear Carl’s whining voice.

  “Babe, we can’t go yet. We still have tons of pictures to take,” Carl was saying.

  “It’s so fucking hot. I’m sweating buckets. Let’s just move to the reception area.” Ken argued.

  “Trouble in paradise, already?” Denver whispered in my ear.

  I had a hard time focusing on his words because Denver started stroking my arm. The damn jacket got in the way of our skin touching.

  I was doomed.

  How was I going to hold onto the remains of my sanity, when Denver couldn’t behave himself around me?

  My stomach growled as a waiter set another plate in front of me. I glared at the second or third plate of artfully arranged greens.

  Sitting next to me on the banquet table, a small boy of eight stuck his tongue at the dish. His parents were too busy arguing to notice. Denver had excused himself earlier to go to the men’s room.

  “I get you,” I told the kid. “I hoped we’d get some meat, too.”

  “This party is boring,” the boy said, making me grin.

  Most people I met were usually intimidated by my size. Combined with the fact I was an Alpha, most folks, strangers especially, thought I was dangerous. It was a good children didn’t judge like adults.

  “You bet it is,” I said with a sigh.

  I jabbed my fork into a piece of lettuce and shoved it into my mouth. If possible, I was even more hungry. Ken was a food writer, according to Denver. At the very least, I expected the grub at the wedding to be good. Decent. Not rabbit food.

  Watching me intently, the boy pushed his plate away from him. Wise kid.

  “Where’s your friend?” He asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  Even the kid was right. The wedding reception sucked. Big time. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my entire weekend.

  I wanted to be back in our apartment. Denver and I usually took our weekend mornings super slow.

  We’d have late breakfast or brunch. Then we’d play some video games or binge-watch some Korean shows in the living room. Even though we had a sofa and an armchair, Denver would always squeeze right next to me on the couch.

  If I took the armchair, he’d slide right onto my lap like it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

  I didn’t mind one bit. I knew in the back of my mind that best friends weren’t supposed to act so casually around each other like that.

  Denver and I shouldn’t be constantly blurring the lines between best friends and lovers—but neither of us seemed to give a damn.

  At that very moment, I wasn’t very happy with my Omega.

  My Omega.

  In my dreams maybe.

  Denver finally returned to his seat, a gleam in his eyes. He tugged at my arm. “Let’s dance, Wayne.”

  “Dance? No way. I’m not even drunk enough.” I protested.

  Denver started tugging me to my feet, not an easy feat given my size.

  “You promised,” He said in a sulky voice. “Come on, Wayne.”

  Since the food wasn’t getting any better, I rose from my seat. The kid gave me a look of sympathy.

  Denver pulled me to the dance floor. It was a slow song. Thank God for small favors. I noticed right away that we were only a few feet from the newly married couple.

  Of course, this was still about revenge. I put my hands on Denver’s waist and told myself I was doing this for my best friend. I reminded myself that Denver promised me something in return for playing his pretend boyfriend.

  I had every intention of claiming my prize after this hellish experience.

  4

  Denver

  I could immediately tell that this was the last place Wayne wanted to be.

  “Hey, can you smile at least? You look like you’re being tortured.” I pointed out.

  Wayne tightened his hold on my body and tugged me close. I let out a breath as our chests, our groins touched.

  The weather today was already humid. Being outdoors didn’t help but when our bodies touched, the temperature soared. My skin felt feverishly hot.

  I stopped looking across the dance floor at Ken and Carl. All my attention was directed solely on Wayne.

  “It feels like torture,” Wayne said through gritted teeth. “You knew I didn’t want to be here.”

  “We had an agreement.” I reminded him.

  Wayne ran his big fingers down the length of my spine, making me shiver. He rested his hands on the curve of my ass.

  I could feel his erection, digging against his trousers. My cock thickened in my pants.

  Did Wayne have a heat stroke or something?

  Wayne was reacting oddly, so unlike himself. He was being so commanding and aggressive and the dirty truth was? I kind of liked it. Wayne acting so dominant with me was kind of a huge-turn on.

  “One dance,” Wayne said against my ear. “And we’re done. I want something to eat something other than vegetables.”

  Oh. That must be it. Wayne got cranky when he didn’t manage to put any meat in his belly.

  “This dance better me a show stopper,” I said.

  Wayne pulled away from me, only to yank me close. I let out a breath, resting my palm on his chest. I couldn’t look away from his gaze, couldn’t believe my best friend was putting our dancing lessons to good use.

  Our dance instructor once remarked to me that if Wayne put more effort into dancing, he had potential. I, on the other hand, had two left feet.

  Wayne twirled me again, leaving me breathless. The music faded away. The only thing that mattered were his hands on my body and our feet moving back and forth.

  “Denver, I’m so glad you could come,” interrupted a new voice.

  Ken.

  I tore my gaze from Wayne’s intense expression. Wayne and I stopped moving.

  “So are the two of you together now?” Ken asked.

  “Ken, come on. We got to cut the cake,” Carl said.

  Carl stomped his feet like a spoiled little kid. For a moment there, I felt sorry for Ken. Having a mate like Carl was probably going to be a nightmare, but then I remembered this bastard broke my heart.

  Thank God, I’ve moved on.

  “Yeah, we are,” I said.

  I let out a squeal of surprise when Wayne held me close to the heat of his body. I could imagine turning around, ripping off his shirt and tux to touch his hard and sleek muscles.

  I was so hot and needy right now, I bet everyone could see my erection.

  “Well, I’m glad. You seem happy,” Ken was saying.

  “Very,” Wayne said. “You should go cut your wedding cake. Your husband’s becoming impatient.”

  I watched Carl bodily drag Ken to their wedding cake—an impressive feat given Carl was a tiny Omega.

  “Ken’s so doomed,” I said.

  “Had enough?” Wayne asked, his breath warm against my ear.

  I twisted in his arms to look at his face. Wayne said nothing more, which meant he was a little mad and maybe annoyed at me. I knew I was acting like a spoiled brat, not a mature grown-up.

  Not many best friends would brave a stranger’s wedding and offer to be your pretend boyfriend.

  What if I wanted to stop pretending?

  This wasn’t the first time I saw Wayne in a different light. Over the years, there were moments when I started wanting more but I always held myself back. I was a disaster when it came to relationships. Wayne knew my track record.

  “Yeah,” I finally answered him. “I’m done. Since we’re still here, you want to go have fun?”

  “Define fun.”

  “Get roaring drunk? Open bar.” I nodded to the empty bar.

  There weren’t any people getting drinks because everyone was gathered around the newlyweds while they cut into their wedding cake.

  “I could use a beer,” Wayne admitted.

  I sauntered towards the bar, dragging my best friend along. I looked over my shoulder to see Wayne staring at my hand.

  Yikes. Shoul
d I not being hold his hand?

  We weren’t play-acting anymore but it just felt so natural. I hesitantly let his fingers go.

  Did I imagine the disappointment that crossed his face?

  “What will it be?” Asked the bartender.

  That voice sounded familiar. I narrowed my eyes at my cousin Clark. He was Gideon’s youngest brother and one of the few Alphas in our super big family.

  “Clark, what are you doing here?” I demanded.

  Clark crossed his arms and warily regarded Wayne, then me.

  Since he didn’t answer immediately, I asked, “What happened to your job at that fancy accounting firm?”

  The big Alpha accountant and mama’s boy. That was what Gideon and I used to call Clark. It was funny because Clark easily lost his temper.

  Oh, Clark would never hurt us for real. My cousin might appear threatening and big on the outside but he was a softie, just like my Wayne.

  My Wayne.

  Yep. I was beginning to like the sound of that.

  “I quit.” Since Clark looked so tight-lipped, I didn’t press him further although I wanted to.

  Among us cousins, Clark had the highest paying job—or used to. I never imagined seeing him slinging drinks at a wedding.

  “Beer for me and red wine for him,” Wayne said.

  I huffed at my best friend. “Don’t just order for me.”

  Wayne raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I hear you mention earlier that you were hankering for some wine? You hate white wine.”

  “Yeah.” I bit my lower lip. “But I what if I want one today?”

  Okay, I was being overdramatic. I did hate white wine. Sometimes it frustrated me that Wayne knew me better than I knew myself.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Clark asked Wayne.

  “I’ll have you know we’re perfectly happy in paradise,” I told Clark.

  I silently warned Clark with my gaze to butt out of our business.

  “I don’t know,” Wayne admitted.

  I didn’t like how uncertain and defeated Wayne sounded. That wasn’t like him at all.

  Once Clark handed Wayne his drink, my best friend just walked out on me, leaving me flabbergasted and speechless.

 

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