Blow Me Away: A sexy, friends to lovers rom com! (A Mile High Matched Novel Book 2)

by Christina Hovland

  “Nope.” He grabbed his leather motorcycle jacket and pulled it on, zipping it up to the collar.

  “Really?” Velma asked, unconvinced.

  “Believe it or not, we don’t sit around and gab all day,” Brek replied.

  “That is not entirely true,” Heather said. From what she’d witnessed that afternoon, the boys talked a lot.

  Brek grinned at her. “Don’t spill the secrets.”

  “So, we’re going to the prom,” Velma told him.

  He stared at her a beat. “Of course we are.”

  “I’m just wondering when you’re going to ask me to be your date.” Velma bounced Lily and grinned up at her husband.

  “My ring on your finger?” he asked.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Done deal.” He kissed her again, and then Lily’s head.

  “You should never just assume anything,” Claire said to his back.

  “Brek, did you get that DJ’s name like we talked about?” Heather asked. “For my prom?”

  “Shit, yeah,” he said. “I’ll text it. He said he’s in.”

  “You know you’re the best, right?” Heather asked.

  Brek grunted and did a two-finger wave before heading out.

  Claire stood to top off her glass. “I’m gonna make Dean ask me. He’s gonna have to do a full promposal.”

  Cotton stuck in Heather’s throat. Flashbacks to high school and a very uncomfortable prom night with no date. That wasn’t now, though. She had a sort-of boyfriend, not that they’d labeled anything yet. But he was helping her plan prom, and they were sleeping together, and he was holding her hand. So, yeah, he was her prom date.

  She’d just go with that.

  20

  Chapter Twenty

  Senior “Senior” Prom Countdown: 3 Days

  Heather was in Jase’s bed, again. She’d met up with Jase at his apartment after her girls’ night and then they’d continued their weekend fun late into Monday night. She ran her hand over his pillow. Around four a.m., he’d kissed her and told her he was heading down to the shop to get some work done. A few extra hours of sleep had done the trick, but it was time to get up and head to work.

  She rolled from the bed, dressed, and headed downstairs.

  Music blared from the speakers in the flower shop. Shirtless Jase was in his zone again—a private dance party to Warrant while he worked on a vase of gardenias. She paused at the foot of the stairs that led from his apartment to his shop, drinking him in.

  He danced her way, and she knew the moment he saw her. His lips stopped moving to the beat of the song, and his eyes did that thing they did whenever he saw her—the instant soft thing. “Heather. Hey.”

  She couldn’t hear the words, but she could read his lips well enough. Her blood heated, and she tingled all over, right up to the roots of her hair.

  He turned off the stereo, Warrant singing about cherry pie zipping to a stop. She moved to him, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He tilted his head, deepened the kiss, and held her close against him, his hands in her hair. Early mornings weren’t so bad with Jase and a good make-out session.

  “I guess this is the part where I tell you I have to go,” she said once he broke the kiss, her mouth only millimeters from his. “The shop opens in an hour.”

  “Then this is the part where I tell you I’d rather you stay.” He grinned.

  “And this is when I remind you that you have work and then are spending the evening with your family.”

  He groaned. “Can’t I just pretend I’m sick and come over to your place?”

  “I’m watching game shows tonight. I’m way behind on my bingeing, and I need a dose of Family Feud.”

  “I guarantee if I come over, we won’t be watching Family Feud.” His hand slid down over her back, resting just below her waist.

  Her fingertip seemed to trace circles on his pec on its own. “Don’t make our first fight over Steve Harvey.”

  “Are we fighting? Do we get to make up later?” With the way he was looking at her, they’d need to go upstairs for another round before either of them would get anything done.

  “Come by after you’re done,” she whispered against his lips.

  The cowbell on the door clanked. They both glanced over.

  His mom and sister stood there.

  “Heather.” Anna’s eyes were bright. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Shit,” Jase muttered under his breath. He dropped his hands and held them up in mock defense. “Whatever you two are about to do, knock it off.”

  “We came to invite Heather to tonight’s family dinner, Jason.” His mother adjusted her purse over her shoulder. “Since we don’t get together often.”

  “Only every other night,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “I figured she’d be here. I was totally right.” Anna strutted over to Jase and held her hand up for a high five.

  He didn’t return it.

  “Hi,” Heather said cautiously.

  The light in his eyes shut down. “Babushka would be the trifecta if she weren’t pissed at everyone.”

  “Jase, it’s okay.” Heather gave his biceps a squeeze.

  He pursed his lips. “Heather has plans tonight.”

  She did?

  Were they back to this? Back to his walls around his family. A night with Steve Harvey hardly counted as plans.

  “Heather?” Jase’s mother asked.

  “I’ve got to go to work.” She chanced a glance to Jase, who had an unreadable expression etched on his face. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Jase, quit being a dingbat. We’ll be nice to Heather and we want to get to know her, too. Stop hogging her,” Anna huffed. “Unless, you really have plans?” She turned her attention back to Heather.

  Heather shifted on her feet.

  “She does,” Jase replied for her.

  Plans that could easily change, but still, plans.

  “Give us a second?” Heather asked. “Jase, will you walk me across the street?”

  “Gladly.” He grabbed her hand and marched across the street with her, not speaking.

  “You don’t talk much when you’re angry, do you know that?” she asked when they got to the door of her shop.

  He grunted.

  She had to reach on her toes again so they were face-to-face. Well, face-to-face-ish. He was way taller than her, so it was more like chin-to-nose. She pressed her palms against his cheeks and tilted his face to hers. “If you don’t want me there, I won’t come. But I can hold my own with your family—if that’s what this is all about.”

  He sighed. “You don’t understand. They seem fine on the surface, but soon enough they’ll be slipping under your skin and you’ll be revealing your deepest secrets without realizing it ever happened.”

  “What am I going to say? Tell them that thing you did last night with your tongue?” His eyes flared. She went on, “Jase, we’re just us. They’re them. But they’re a part of you, and I’d like to get to know that part.”

  “I went through training you can’t even imagine. Training to prepare me for the worst of the worst this planet has to offer—people who thrive on breaking us down. People who take a Navy recruit and turn him into a pile of mush.” He was totally serious. “Heather, they have nothing on my family. Because my family uses sweet saccharine to lure you in. Then they’ll ruin everything.”

  “They cannot be that bad. I love your babushka. Your mom and sister seem great.”

  “Oh, they’re great. They’ll just involve themselves in our relationship.”

  “They’re part of you.” She pecked a kiss against his lips. “Let me in. Let me know them.”

  “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” He stroked her cheekbone.

  She unlocked the door, pushing it open. “We’ll be in it together. It can’t be that bad.”

  He grunted again. She glanced over his shoulder. His mom and Anna were on the sidewalk outside of their shop
. They both waved.

  “They’re watching us,” she whispered.

  “Of course they are.” He turned their direction and gave a little wave.

  “Be serious for a minute.” Heather gently grabbed his arm. “Are you frustrated because I’m invited or because they’re sticking their noses in?”

  “I’m frustrated because I want you all to myself.” The air between them got heavy.

  She linked her arms around his neck. “I think that you’re trying to be sweet.”

  “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” She glanced to his mom and sister. Yeah, she could handle this. They loved him and she…oh God….nope. Not going there. She really liked him a lot. So she already had something in common with his family.

  Like…a whole lot of like.

  21

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Heather held on to Jase’s waist as he pulled his Ducati into the driveway of his family’s huge Cherry Creek home. He parked, and she tossed her leg over the side, pulling her helmet off and hoping like hell her hair wasn’t totally smashed. Jase had assured her the dress code was casual, but she still went with a summer dress and her hair down. She’d even curled it—not that it mattered with the way the helmet had likely smashed the curls.

  Jase went with his perpetual jeans and T-shirt combo—this tee had his company logo on the front.

  She retrieved the box of cookies she’d made from the saddlebags. Flower-shaped sugar cookies seemed appropriate, decorated with extra-sparkly sprinkles and a dash of edible luster dust. She’d added a dozen chocolate chip, because one could never go wrong with chocolate. “You ready?”

  “No,” he replied. “Let’s do it, anyway.”

  He tucked her hand in his and headed for the front door. He didn’t knock. Of course he didn’t, he didn’t have to.

  “You’re not even a little excited to see your brother?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m excited to have a beer with him once all this family bullshit is done.” He squeezed her hand. “You want the tour?”

  “You want to avoid the evening?” she replied, following him away from the sound of voices in the kitchen.

  “Hell yes.” He pulled her along with him as he showed her through the rooms of the house, carefully avoiding the area where his family chattered. She’d known that his family was loaded. Not just loaded, but like Molly-Brown-and-a-firepit-of-money loaded. Heather had been in the house once before, when Babushka texted her for the pickup, but she hadn’t made it past the entryway.

  The entryway was ornate, but the rest of the house was massive. High ceilings and one-of-a-kind signed Russian art on the walls. The whole house was decked out in cream and gold with marble accents. Heather had grown up in a small apartment in Arvada. Everything was thrift store and Walmart with linoleum accents. They might not have had a marble staircase, but there’d been a lot of love in that little second-story apartment.

  Jase walked her through the bedroom wing of the house, taking his time showing her the different rooms. His old bedroom, his sister’s, and both brothers. Zach, who still lived in Denver, and Roman, who was enlisted and rarely visited—the man of the night.

  They paused at Jase’s old bedroom.

  “Didn’t look like this when I lived here.” He leaned against the dresser. “I wouldn’t have let Mom put stupid pillows on my bed.”

  There were throw pillows at least a foot deep at the head of the bed. The whole room looked like it came from an interior design magazine spread. Still, there were little traces of Jase—framed photos on the nightstand of him with his family, and another of him with friends she’d never met before. It wasn’t Brek and Dean and Eli—these guys had a military look to them.

  She meandered to the closet and flicked on the light. A handful of dry-cleaning bags hung on the rack, his uniforms inside.

  He’d come up behind her.

  “You ever wear these?” she asked, turning so she could see him.

  He shook his head. “Not anymore.”

  “Is that not allowed?” It would be a huge disservice to the world if Jase Dvornakov couldn’t wear his uniform anymore. “’Cause uniforms are super sexy.”

  “They’re allowed. Important events. Things like that. But I stick to a tux now.” His expression had turned stoic.

  Right. No more talk of sexy uniforms. She turned the closet light off and closed the door.

  “You know what else is sexy?” she asked, ready to ease the heavy air that had taken over the room.

  “What?”

  “When you wear nothing.” She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.

  He smiled against her lips. “Are you getting fresh with me in my parent’s house?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Heather hummed as she deepened the kiss.

  “Jason,” a man who had to be his father said from the doorway.

  Heather jolted and stepped away from Jase.

  “Dad.” Jase didn’t seem at all fazed that his father had just walked in on them making out. “This is Heather.”

  Jase held his hand out to Heather. She grabbed it, tethering her to him in a gesture of reassurance she hadn’t realized she needed.

  “Hi.” Heather held out her other hand.

  Jase’s dad shook it with a strong, warm grip. “It’s nice to finally meet the woman who has cracked Jason’s shell.”

  “I don’t know that I’d go that far.” Heather couldn’t help the blush that was obviously creeping up her cheekbones.

  “I guess Mom sent you to come find us?” Jase asked.

  His father nodded. “Everyone is anxious to meet your girlfriend.”

  “We’ll be right there.” Jase continued holding Heather against his side as his father left. Clearly in no hurry to get to his family, he showed her to the open patio with a pool, an outside kitchen, and a table already set with a white tablecloth and bone china. I’ll take things that cost a bajillion dollars for two hundred, Alex.

  “Looks like we’re eating outside tonight,” Heather mused, running a finger along the length of the tablecloth.

  “What do you think?” Jase tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

  “I think you’re holding out on me and I should’ve gone for the Mercedes version of my delivery van.” Heather tucked her arm through his.

  “Next week,” he replied.

  “What?”

  “The van comes next week. I’m sure you’ll be happy not to have to coordinate with Ethan anymore. They’re painting it this week and then adding the cookie and then…delivery.” He stroked the bare skin of her arm.

  “Kind of crazy how this whole thing has played out, huh?” she asked.

  He paused. “Yeah.”

  “You think this was her plan the whole time?” Heather stared at the wavy reflection of them on the surface of the pool. “Babushka.”

  “I don’t even want to guess.” They arrived at the patio door that led into the main kitchen. His parents, brothers, and sister were on the other side, unaware they stood there.

  “What’s your dad’s name?” Heather stopped him before he pushed open the door.

  “Alex. And you can call Mom Diana.”

  “Alex and Diana.” Heather rehearsed their names. “And Zach and Anna.”

  “And Roman,” Jase finished for her. “We call him Rome.”

  She sang the names under her breath. A little trick she used when she got nervous and needed to remember something.

  “You’re cute, you know that?” He pressed his hand to the small of her back and opened the door. All eyes turned to them. Heather was generally a confident woman, but five pairs of Dvornakov eyes trained on her at once and she was squirming in her sandals.

  Zach and Roman looked a lot like Jase. Roman was built like a tank and sat tall—like Jase did. Zach lounged against the counter. Anna was all happy, perky smiles.

  “Heather.” Anna stood from her barstool. “Last time you were here we didn’t
even get to say hello.” She turned her attention to Jase. “You’re late, mister.”

  “Heather got the tour.” He headed for a bottle of what appeared to be top-shelf Russian vodka next to a bottle of red wine and a bottle of white. He poured himself a small bit of vodka and held the bottle up to her.

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll have a glass of white.” Yes, it was definitely more of a wine evening, or they’d have to scrape her off the floor. And what kind of an impression would that make?

  Jase poured her a glass.

  “Heather, tell us about your busi—” Anna started.

  “Ve can start. I am here.” Babushka breezed into the room with Harry on her heels.

  “Where’s Morty?” Heather whispered to Jase.

  “Fuck if I know,” he answered.

  “Morty couldn’t be here,” Babushka replied. “I brought Harry instead.” Babushka brushed past everyone, beelining straight to her. “Heather. You are here. This is good thing.”

  Rome coughed into his hand. “Hey, Babushka.”

  She waved him away with a flick of her wrist.

  Heather returned her hug, taking in the shocked expressions of the rest of the family.

  “Heather is like the child I never had.” Babushka patted her cheek.

  Jase’s dad cleared his throat at the comment. “You have a son. That would be me.”

  “I help her at her shop,” Babushka ignored him. “We have vonderful time together. No judgement. Just happiness for me.” She glared at her son. Man, when Babushka laid it on, she laid it on thick.

  “I want happiness for you.” Jase father’s voice went softer. “I love you, Mama.”

  “You say this, but you forbid this and forbid that.”

  “I forbid because I do love you. Can’t you see that?”

  “No.” She turned her attention to the rest of the room. “Now, vere is Rome? Ah, my boy. You come home.”

  “Babushka, I’ve missed you. I hear we’re going to have another huge birthday party this year.” He returned her hug.