Take It Off the Menu: A sizzling, accidentally married rom com! (Mile High Matched, Book 3) (A Mile High Matched Novel)

by Christina Hovland

  He kicked his chair back with the ball of his foot. Then he went to Marlee, held her hand like she was made of porcelain, and helped her stand.

  “Sadie?” he asked.

  “That’s me,” Sadie chirped.

  “Go away,” he said.

  Then he tilted Marlee’s face to his. “We good?”

  Her lips parted.

  “Yes,” she said on a breath.

  “And you’ll marry me?”

  “We already are, silly.” Her eyes misted further.

  His gut clenched. “Feels like I should ask the question. We’ll go pick you a ring, if you want one.”

  She nodded. “I want one.”

  “I want one, too.” He ran the edges of his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping the tears, praying he’d never make her cry again.

  “And I can kiss you?” he asked.

  She smiled a watery smile. “Whenever you want, chef.”

  He took that opportunity to take her up on that. His mouth met hers, and the world was perfect.

  “I love you,” he said against her lips.

  “I love you, too.” The edges of her mouth tilted more.

  “You don’t love me more, Mar.” He touched his fingertips to the apples of her cheeks. “We love each other exactly the same.”

  That got him a full smile.

  And that was perfect.

  Epilogue

  “I’m fine,” Marlee mouthed the words to Eli from across the restaurant.

  His restaurant. With the help of his family and his savings, he’d bought the building. She’d personally ensured every other expense was covered, enjoyed the heck out of picking out the decorations, and Eats Grille was ready to open less than a year after they’d found their way back together.

  Not to say it was nice to have money again, but it was really nice to have money again.

  One thing money couldn’t buy was Eli’s peace of mind. Marlee was due any day—any minute, really. Eli had been on edge about it for weeks. He’d tried to convince her to stay home and skip out on Heather and Jase’s wedding. But this was their reception—the first time the restaurant served guests—and she wasn’t going to miss it. Thumper would have to stay put until after the festivities.

  It was a good thing the festivities were about over. She was spent.

  Heck, the kid was over a week past due. If he were a library book, he’d be racking up the fines. They’d fully expected to bring a newborn to the reception, but Thumper was nice and content where he was, much to everyone’s—mostly Marlee’s—dismay.

  “He’s worried about you.” Sadie passed her a ginger ale and gave a jaunty wave to Eli.

  He scowled back.

  He was very scowly lately.

  Heather and Jase stood in the middle of the bridal party, the sun setting on the Rockies behind them while the photographer snapped away. Jase said something that made Heather laugh like crazy. The vibe was definitely one of happiness.

  Heather had gone with a formfitting satin wedding gown that looked amazing with a pair of strappy heels peeking from the hemline. The way Jase had looked at her when she walked down the aisle of the church made Marlee choke up.

  Jase went with his dress whites, the rest of his groomsmen in tuxedos.

  “Do you wish you would have had this?” Sadie asked.

  Marlee shook her head. “I wanted the party. Not the man. Now, I have the man. I don’t need the party.”

  Sadie was Marlee’s designated wedding babysitter since Eli was on groomsman duty with Dean, Brek, and Jase’s brothers, Zach and Roman.

  Zach lived in Denver. Roman had just moved back after a stint in the military.

  He kept glancing at Sadie. She didn’t seem to notice or care.

  Interesting.

  Marlee could tell Eli was on edge—his gaze kept sliding to her all throughout the ceremony at the church. Now, he kept finding her around the restaurant, catching her gaze, and waiting until she gave him some sign that she and the baby were both A-OK. They’d both been fine the entire pregnancy. That didn’t stop Eli from worrying.

  Eli had worked his tail off to get his restaurant in order before the baby came. They were hosting Jase and Heather’s reception that night, but they didn’t officially open for two more weeks. Tonight was more of a dress rehearsal for the restaurant.

  A dress rehearsal where the chef wore a tuxedo and stressed out way too much because he was in the bridal party and not in his kitchen.

  He’d left one of his sous-chefs in charge there.

  Another contraction—she’d been having them for weeks—took Marlee’s breath away. She waited until it passed, gripping the edge of the bar top until her knuckles turned white.

  “What do you say we take a breather in Eli’s office?” Sadie asked super gently once the contraction was over.

  That was an excellent idea. Marlee nodded and followed Sadie through the room filled with Jase and Heather’s friends and family, past Babushka and her boyfriend, Morty, and down the hall to the kitchen. Eli’s office was just off the kitchen here.

  This one had real walls. Marlee liked to think it was innocent, but she was pretty sure he’d ditched the glass this time so he could have conjugal visits whenever Marlee popped in.

  She turned the handle to the door and slipped inside, Sadie two steps behind her.

  “We should text Kellie and Becca, see what they’re up to,” Marlee said as another contraction swiped her breath clean away.

  Lothario took one look at Marlee from his perch on Eli’s chair and yipped. He trotted toward her. She waited until the contraction passed before she knelt to pick the little dude up.

  She’d chosen the green maternity dress because it had loads of room to move around and it went well with Jase and Heather’s wedding colors. Funny thing. Three months ago, it had loads of room to move around. Tonight, it was extra tight around the waist.

  “Why don’t I go catch Eli, let him know he needs a break from pictures?” Sadie asked, helping Marlee to the sofa.

  Marlee didn’t need help to sit on a sofa.

  “I’m. Fine,” Marlee said as an answer, setting Lothario beside her.

  The truth was that the contractions were coming closer together. But they weren’t so close that she was ready to head home, grab her bag, and insist they head to labor and delivery. She’d already been there twice. Both times were false alarms.

  Both times were also over a week ago.

  The door flung open before Sadie could even get past the desk to go find Eli.

  “Mar?” Eli asked, breathless, heading straight for her.

  “I say, ‘I’m fine,’ but no one listens,” Marlee said, readjusting herself on the sofa so the pillows gave her some support.

  “They’re closer together,” Sadie whispered. Not so quiet that Marlee couldn’t hear, but loud enough to make her grumpy.

  “How close?” Eli asked like Marlee wasn’t sitting there able to answer herself.

  “I wasn’t timing, but three minutes, I’d guess,” Sadie replied like Marlee wasn’t the one actually having the contractions.

  “Hey,” Marlee called to them.

  They both looked at her. Finally.

  She gave a wave she hoped was reassuring. She was at Heather and Jase’s reception. Eli was supposed to be posing for photos. Thumper was already a week overdue—what was a few more hours?

  “I’m. Fine,” she said, just as another contraction made her pause.

  So she might’ve grunted with this one. Sue her.

  “She’s not fine.” She heard Sadie say on the periphery. This contraction took all her attention. Not painful, not really, just intense. The kind of intense that required her attention, that was all.

  Except this didn’t feel like before. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but this wasn’t the same.

  She focused on their baby, just like they’d learned in birthing class, waiting for the contraction to finish. This one just seemed to keep going. She might’ve made s
ome noises, she couldn’t be sure. Probably. Definitely. She’d made noise.

  The wave receded. Sadie stood beside her, concern etched in the lines of her forehead.

  “Marlee.” Eli kneeled in front of her, gripping her hands in his. “It’s time to go.”

  She shook her head, her lips pursed.

  No way was she leaving before they’d even cut the cake.

  Sadie kneeled beside him. “Marlee, you need to not have your baby in Eli’s office. It’ll stain.”

  For some reason, that popped Marlee right out of the haze. “Is it time?”

  Eli’s palm rested against her cheek. “It’s time, Mar.”

  Oh.

  He was probably right.

  “Okay,” she said, trying to lift herself off the sofa.

  “Okay,” he repeated, helping her up and holding her tight when another contraction started.

  “I’ll bring the car around,” Sadie said somewhere in the background. Marlee was trying really hard to focus, but everything seemed to be wrong.

  “Eli?” she asked, needing the reassurance that he was right there.

  “You’re okay,” he assured, helping her to the door, through the kitchen, and out the back exit.

  “I want to name him Lucas,” she said, drooping against him. For some reason, that was the important thing that needed to be said. “His name is Luke.”

  She couldn’t say why, not really. The name had just been nagging at her for days.

  Eli paused as they waited for her SUV.

  “I like it,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Lucas.”

  She liked it even more when he said it.

  Her hand found its way to her stomach. She stroked up her abdomen and pressed against the foot lodged at her lungs. “Hang tight, Luke.”

  Sadie drove the car right up to them. Eli helped Marlee into the passenger side. Once he’d buckled her in, she stopped him with a tug on his hand.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “Same.” He pressed a kiss against her lips. “Exactly the same.”

  Do you need more Eli and Marlee?

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  especially for newsletter subscribers!

  Sign up for the bonus scene at:

  ChristinaHovland.com/takeitoff-bonus

  Acknowledgments

  I’m often asked if the heroes in my stories are modeled after my husband. Up until this story, the answer was…not really. There are pieces of him in every hero I write, but they’re not him. This time there is a whole lot of Steve in Eli. Thank you Steve for supporting my dreams, for loving me as I am, and for being an amazing father to our kids. I hope readers love Eli as much as I love you.

  Thank you to my bestie, Karie, for getting tipsy with me and brainstorming antics for Babushka. The silicone tree decorations were all Karie’s idea. Oh, how we laughed and laughed when she said, “You know what Babushka should do…”

  I am so grateful to my mom, Shirley, and my sister, Sereneti, who put up with my random ideas and love my books.

  Kiele, as always, thank you for keeping me grounded. You are my person.

  Courtney, Dallas, Leeann, Lindsay, Sarah, Shasta, Stephanie thank you for supporting me, always.

  Thank you to A.Y. Chao, Dylann Crush, Colette Dixon, C.R. Grissom, Jody Holford, Diane Holiday, Sarah Morganthaler, and Renee Ann Miller for being my beta readers on this project.

  Todd I so appreciate your answering random questions about the legal needs of fictional characters. And Victoria thank you for seeing to their fictional medical needs.

  Beth, thank you for being the best author assistant ever. (Truly, I am grateful for you.)

  Thank you to my agent, Emily Sylvan Kim. I don’t know what I did to deserve you on my team, but I remain grateful that you are Team Christy.

  Thank you to Holly Ingraham who is so much more than an editor. She listens to me brainstorm and helps me make my stories the best they can be.

  Thank you to Tamara Beard of Wrapped Up in Writing for the exceptional job with copy edits and proofs.

  And thank you to Shasta Schafer for being my ahhh-mazing final proofreader.

  Deb Smolha, thank you for being my biggest fan. (I won’t tell the others.)

  Thank you to Delhia for helping Marlee with her French.

  And, finally, thank you to you, the reader of my stories. Your kind words, e-mails, and reviews make my time spent crafting these characters worth it.

  Also by Christina Hovland

  The Mile High Matched Series

  Rock Hard Cowboy, Mile High Matched, Book .5

  Going Down on One Knee, Mile High Matched, Book 1

  Blow Me Away, Mile High Matched, Book 2

  Take It Off the Menu, Mile High Matched, Book 3

  From Entangled Publishing

  The Honeymoon Trap

  About the Author

  Christina Hovland lives her own version of a fairy tale—an artisan chocolatier by day and romance writer by night. Born in Colorado, Christina received a degree in journalism from Colorado State University. Before opening her chocolate company, Christina’s career spanned from the television newsroom to managing an award-winning public relations firm. She’s a recovering overachiever and perfectionist with a love of cupcakes and dinner she doesn’t have to cook herself. A 2017 Golden Heart® finalist, she lives in Colorado with her first-boyfriend-turned-husband, four children, and the sweetest dog around.

  ChristinaHovland.com

  Enjoyed the Story?

  Turn the page for chapter one of

  Going Down on One Knee!

  Going Down on One Knee

  Number-crunching Velma Johnson's perfectly planned life is right on course.

  That's a lie. Sure, she's got the lucrative job. She's got the posh apartment. But her sister nabbed Velma's Mr. Right. There has to be a man out there for Velma. Hopefully, one who's hunky, wears pressed suits, and has a diversified financial portfolio. He'll be exactly like, well... her sister's new fiancé.

  Badass biker Brek Montgomery blazes a trail across the country, managing Dimefront, one of the biggest rock bands of his generation. With the band on hiatus, Brek rolls into Denver to pay a quick visit to his family and friends. But when Brek's sister suddenly gets put on bed rest, she convinces Brek to take over her wedding planning business for the duration of her pregnancy.

  Staying in Denver and dealing with bridezillas was not what Brek had in mind when he passed through town, but there is one particular maid-of-honor who might make his stay worthwhile.

  Velma finds herself strangely attracted to the man planning her sister's wedding. Problem is, he ticks none of the boxes on her well-crafted list. Brek is rough around the edges, he cusses, and doesn't even have a 401(k). But trying something crazy might get her out of the rut of her dating life--so long as she lays down boundaries up front and sticks to her plan...

  Going Down on One Knee, Chapter One

  Chapter One, The Countdown Begins

  Three words. Three. Little. Words. Nothing important.

  Okay, so the three words were important. Massive, really.

  “Congratulations, you two,” Velma Johnson rehearsed aloud to the vase of a dozen yellow roses gripped in her arms. With a reaffirming gulp of Denver’s crisp spring air, she hustled through the open-air parking garage to the security door of her apartment building.

  Her sister, Claire, had big news. To be exact, Claire and her boyfriend, Dean, had big news. Velma had a feeling she knew exactly what their news would be—they were moving in together. The next step in their relationship. Tension in Velma’s neck strung tight at the thought.

  A successful career and a posh apartment she could eventually rent out as an investment were steps one and two of Velma’s elaborate five-year plan. She had ticked both those boxes. Dean, three kids, and moving to a two-story house just outside of Denver had been steps three through seven.

  Not anymore. Now, her sister was moving in with the man Vel
ma had crushed on for years. The one Velma measured all others against. The one she sang Prince and Madonna songs with at the office.

  Yes, they were moving in together. That’s why Claire had called yesterday and asked to take her to dinner. Velma had insisted they meet at her place instead. Her invitation had nothing to do with the fact she liked having Dean visit her apartment—even if he was with her sister. She’d offered because it made sense they’d want a private location for their big reveal. And when the announcement came that they’d be embracing that next relationship milestone…well, being on her home turf sounded pretty darn appealing.

  Just as she reached the security door, the sound of a motorcycle that clearly had no muffler cut through her thoughts. She turned. The bike pulled up next to her car—into the parking spot meant for her guests. A super-muscled, badass-mother-trucker of a biker swung his leg over the side of the motorcycle and stood.

  Her heart stopped with a thunk.

  Vin-Diesel-biker-dude pulled off his helmet and—sweet mother of Mary, had the temperature jumped by ten degrees? She got the picture: he rode a motorcycle, hit the gym twice a day. The type she avoided because she did not do badass. She preferred the suspenders-and-slacks kind of man. Except, at that moment, she debated how important that preference really was to her.

  Focus, Velma. Head held high, she approached him. “Excuse me? Sir? You can’t park there.”

  He frowned at the number marking the spot.

  Normally she wouldn’t mind sharing the space, but with Claire, Dean, and his friend Brek coming to dinner, she needed both of her parking spaces.

  This man was obviously not Dean’s friend. Dean’s friends were all buttoned-up, suit-wearing, Wednesday-afternoon golfers. She was nearly certain.