Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3
Page 19
“Things I’ll never say.” Velma raised her eyebrows and mimed zipping her mouth shut.
He needed to have a talk with his buddy about shit Jase should keep to himself.
The photographer shifted next to Velma, camera in hand. Velma’s grandfather-slash-minister, Pops (he’d insisted Brek call him that), was perched on the bench across from them, along with the happy couple. Pops had a goofy grin etched on his face. Brek had caved, telling him the plan so he’d agree to get in the back of a bread truck. As soon as Pops heard what they were up to, he had been ecstatic.
“All aboard,” Eli said before pulling down the rolling door and locking it in place. Everything inside went dark. Velma sucked in a breath. She gripped Brek’s forearm, her fingernails biting into his skin. Not in the good way they’d done that morning.
Only a sliver of sunshine crept under the door. He probably should’ve brought something for light. Hindsight and all that.
Velma dug through the oversized duffle bag she’d placed at her feet, sliding a little as the van lurched forward. Brek caught her waist before she took a header onto the floor. She sat up and clicked on multiple flashlights. Well, huh. She’d come prepared. Of course she had. She was Velma—cell phone flashlights wouldn’t cut it.
She handed one to him and another to Pops. The eerie glow of the flashlights gave this wedding a distinctly creepy feel. Buttercup yapped in apparent agreement.
They hit a bump and everyone bounced. Velma hit her head against the metal side of the van. Brek raised his fingers to rub her hair where she had bonked.
“That feels nice, but it’d be better if you told me what’s happening,” Velma whispered to him. He turned the flashlight beam to her.
“Sophie and Troy are getting married,” he replied, breathing in the unique scent of everything Velma. He glanced to the duffle bag she’d filled with things. Flashlights, apparently. Who knew what else she’d packed into her bag of tricks. “You didn’t need to bring umbrellas.”
“You’ll thank me when it rains.” She pressed her shoulders back and raised her eyebrows at him.
He shook his head and nudged her knee with his. “Thanks for bringing flashlights.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I want to take that dress off you later,” he whispered in her ear.
“Brek,” she whispered back, giving the side-eye to her oblivious grandfather. “Behave.”
“It’s gonna happen,” he replied.
He couldn’t help it. She wore one of her fancy business dresses that turned him on like a teenager at a Katy Perry concert. He’d also dressed up for the occasion in black jeans and a starched, collared white shirt. Velma had already shown her appreciation for his effort by promptly undressing him that morning. Dean was making him wear a fucking tuxedo for his wedding. Brek held high hopes for Velma’s reaction to him in a tux.
The radio propped against his hip cracked to life. “Dean to Brek.”
He pressed the button on the side and raised the mic speaker to his lips. “Brek here.”
“Cones are set. I’ve got traffic diverted. Where are you at?” Dean’s voice muffled toward the end.
“Two minutes out,” Eli replied for him.
“Okay.” Brek dropped the radio to his lap and rubbed his hands together. “Boys and girls, this is how it’s gonna go. We’ve gotta be in and out before the cops show up. I’m thinking we’ve got about five minutes before anyone realizes we have no business being where we’re about to be.”
“Cops?” Sophie asked, her voice higher than usual.
He swung the light from the flashlight her way, so shadows danced across her face.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be gone before they arrive. We’ve got all the traffic stopped at the intersection of Broadway and Fourteenth Street. Pops, you’re out first. Then the photographer, then Velma, then me, then Troy, then Sophie.”
Everyone seemed to be following. Although, Velma didn’t seem to be breathing. “Breathe, V. No one’s getting arrested.”
She gulped a lungful of air.
“We’re getting married where we met?” Sophie asked, her tone dreamy.
“It’s almost perfect.” Troy’s voice was husky.
“Almost?” Sophie asked.
Troy slipped her the wooden case holding the family heirloom pearls. It took some effort, but Brek had gotten the regurgitated pearls restrung.
“Totally romantic.” Sophie wore a cheek-to-cheek grin. Regurgitated pearls apparently did that to a chick.
Troy helped Sophie latch the necklace at the back of her neck. “I can’t believe we never thought of getting married where we met.”
Yeah, well, her previous wedding endeavor had been about keeping up with the Joneses. This one was all about them. About their story. Who they were and who they would become as a couple. Brek couldn’t hold back a smile. Totally perfect.
“We’ve got a problem,” Jase’s voice came through the radio. “God’s spitting on us.”
Velma, apparently back on her game, pursed her lips and gave him a solid I-told-you-so look. “I think he means it’s raining.”
Brek held the radio to his mouth and smirked. “We’ve got umbrellas.”
Velma was already on it, pulling out the umbrellas and handing one to Pops and one to Brek. “I’ll hold for Sophie; you get Troy. Pops can hold his, and Dean can hold for the photographer.”
“Dean is on traffic duty.” Brek checked the latch on his umbrella to be sure it’d pop open.
“I’m good. I’ve got a waterproof case on this. Figured it might rain today,” the photography guy, Alan, said.
Velma gave Brek another look. This time she shook her head.
“Coming up,” Eli said through the radio.
“Ready,” Brek replied.
The van lurched to a stop. Several cars outside honked in apparent disagreement with their decision to park in the middle of the street. The door slid open and the plan went into action. A thundercloud rolled in the distance. Brek popped his umbrella open and hopped out of the van. He immediately helped Velma down. She tripped over the lip of the edge, right into his arms.
He caught her. “Eyes on me. Don’t look down.”
Her expression went soft. “Thanks.”
Troy came next, then helped Sophie down. She glanced at the impromptu space at the edge of the intersection, right where the finish line had once been. Brek had checked the location and confirmed this was where she had handed Troy his water bottle.
“This is perfect.” She stepped beside Troy and took Buttercup’s leash. Buttercup tore at the collar of his mini tux with his teeth.
Velma popped open her umbrella and held it over Sophie. Brek did the same for Troy. The rain was light, but thank fuck Velma had thought to bring the damn things.
Dean and Jase, decked out in orange reflective vests, directed traffic around them, but many of the cars stopped. The drivers openly gawked. This led to honking, but Sophie and Troy didn’t seem to mind. Pops had already started the vows. Sophie slipped a plain gold band on Troy’s finger. Her fingers shook, but her words were strong as she repeated after Pops.
The photographer snapped photos. Brek glanced to Velma. She’d been totally caught up in the ceremony, but when he glanced her way, she turned her head to him and a slight smile tipped her lips. He couldn’t pull his gaze from her.
She gestured toward the ceremony and mouthed something about paying attention. He should probably listen, but he literally couldn’t take his eyes off her. Not when she’d managed to grab his heart and hang on tight without even realizing what she had done. His entire body tensed. She’d become everything to him. When the hell had that happened? He shook away the feeling.
A siren wailed in the distance. Brek gave the signal to Pops to wrap it up. Jase and Dean blocked the traffic completely so Eli could collect the cones. This resulted in quite a lot of honking and some jackoff calling Dean a multitude of names.
Pops got the message to get things done
and pronounced the happy couple man and wife. They kissed. Brek switched into panic mode to get everyone back in the truck. The sound of sirens moved closer. He had about thirty seconds before everything fell apart.
Jase peeled the decals off the side of the van. Brek’s heart skipped as he helped Sophie inside. Troy followed with the dog, and they took their seats. Brek didn’t stop to let Velma climb up. He just lifted her at the waist and climbed in. Pops scrambled in behind them and Eli slammed the door shut.
“Everybody sit.” He adjusted the small train of Sophie’s dress. “Where’s Alan?”
He glanced around; his heart skipped uncontrollably. Alan hadn’t gotten in, and they’d already left. They couldn’t circle back for him or they’d get caught up with the police.
He held up the radio and pushed the button. “Dean, we’re down a photographer.”
The excruciating pause that came after had his heart thundering against his ribs.
“Got him,” Dean finally replied. “We were mid-evacuation when you radioed. He wanted to get some parting shots of the van driving away. We’re headed your direction now. Will meet up at Walgreens.”
Brek’s shoulders sagged. Thank. Fuck.
“That was crazy.” Velma settled on the bench beside him. “And super romantic.”
He caught her gaze in the dim, lit-by-flashlights glow. “Thanks again for the umbrellas.”
She gave him a wry smile. “No problem.”
“We make a good team,” he said.
If they weren’t being bounced around in the back of a bread van with her grandfather across the aisle, he would lay a kiss on her. Hell, if they were alone in the back of a bread van he would do a hell of a lot more than that. Instead, he squeezed her arm and relaxed against the metal siding.
Aspen would be over the moon that they’d gotten Sophie and Troy hitched. Next up, Claire and Dean, a big spread in Rosette, and then he’d never have to plan another wedding again. His gaze slid back to Velma, and visions of blue garters and honeymoon lingerie swam in his vision.
Fuck it. If they got that far with things, she’d have to deal with the wedding bullshit. He’d be in charge of showing up on time and the consummation afterward. Hopefully, directly after the ceremony—like in the limo on the way to the airport. But that wouldn’t happen. He had to get a grip and stop thinking about forever. He didn’t stay in one place long enough for forever.
A stretch limousine was waiting in the parking lot when they returned. He’d arranged for it to meet them at Walgreens and whisk Troy and Sophie off for their two-day honeymoon in the mountains.
“Brek?” Sophie asked.
He turned from where he’d started taking out the benches.
“Thank you. For today. I’ll talk to my mother. Troy and I both will. We’ll see what we can do to get her to halt her vendetta.”
He nodded. Maybe Sophie wasn’t so bad after all. “Appreciated.”
The happy newlyweds left, Velma and Dean went back to work, and Eli set to pulling off the rest of the vinyl pizzeria decals while Brek disassembled the benches he had added inside the van that morning. He rolled up his sleeves and wiped sweat from his forehead.
“I suppose now would be a good time to ask what your intentions are with my granddaughter.” Pops climbed into the back.
Brek’s heart dipped. Words wouldn’t come. What the hell were his intentions with Velma? They were sure as fuck not to let someone else bang her every night for the rest of their lives. He understood that much.
Pops grabbed a screwdriver and helped with one of the seats. He’d taken off his robes, revealing tan slacks and a blue polo shirt. “Saw the way you watched her during the ceremony. Reminds me of someone I used to know.”
Brek dropped a handful of bolts into a waiting zip-top bag. “Yeah?”
“Me, son. Reminds me of when I was young and a different Velma caught my eye.” He chuckled. “She looked a lot like your Velvet. Prettiest girl I ever saw.”
“She meant a lot to Velma. She talks about her.” Brek used the wrench on a particularly tight bolt, finally loosening it.
Pops held open the bag. “Back then, I was a traveling minister. Loved the life. Never thought I’d settle down until I met her. Best decision I ever made.”
Brek paused, his gut twisting. He wanted Velma. He also wanted freedom. The two wouldn’t mesh well. But he wasn’t willing to give up either one. There had to be a third solution. Except, he couldn’t figure it out. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Pops sighed. “Spent forty years together. My Velma could wind herself up tight about anything. In the end, before she passed, she wasn’t worried about what would happen to her. Said she’d figure it out when she got there.” He paused, a whisper of a smile on his lips. “She fretted over what would happen to me. Who’d make me oatmeal in the mornings? Make sure my robes got ironed? That’s what she bothered herself with those last days. It all worked out, though. There’s a diner up the road from our house that makes me breakfast, and I learned to use the iron.”
Brek stood to stretch his back. He grabbed a bottle of water and handed another to Pops.
“Who’s gonna make your breakfast?” Pops asked, tightening the cap on his bottle and setting it beside the bench.
Brek ran a hand over his face. “What?”
“Things you’ve gotta think about now, while you’re young. Diner food is nice, but I’m grateful I didn’t have to spend forty years eating it.”
“Velma makes good breakfast.” Brek gripped the water bottle in his hand, the plastic crunching under his grip. “I…uh…I know you’re a minster, and she’s your granddaughter. I don’t mean to imply—”
“Things are different with kids these days.” Pops opened his worn leather briefcase and reached inside. “My Velma, she had a few requests before she passed. Wanted Velvet to have this.” He handed a small box to Brek. “Told me to hang on to it until the right time. I understand Velvet was upset about the wedding dress, so I figured I’d give her this today. But watching you two, my gut says to go ahead and give it to you instead.”
Brek lifted the top, and his lungs spasmed against his rib cage. Inside was a thin gold wedding band with leaves carved into the metal. Not extravagant, but beautiful and clearly vintage. He’d been contemplating a life with Velma, but he hadn’t expected to be holding a ring so quickly.
“Claire got the dress. Velvet gets the ring.” Pops nodded toward the box. “Go ahead. There’s an inscription. Paid extra for it. Jeweler charged by the letter, so I kept it short.”
Brek lifted the gold band and squinted. The inscription had rubbed down with time, but he could still make out the words. “To Velma, Forever,” he read aloud.
“Short and to the point.” The edges of Pops’ lips dropped slightly.
“I can’t take this.” Brek tucked the ring into the silk lining and handed it back to the old man.
Pops shook his head. “Hang on to it. Might come in handy.”
Yes, exactly. That was what scared the shit out of Brek. “No, really. I can’t take this. I’m leaving Denver soon. Velma’s staying.”
“Keep it for now. You can give it back later. Consider it a favor to an old man.” Pops’ eyes sparkled with mischief. He snapped his briefcase shut and gave a little nod. “Well done today. Haven’t had this much fun in ages.”
The ring box weighed heavy in Brek’s palm. “How’d you know? That your Velma was the one?”
“Didn’t. Not at first.” Pops glanced to the box and shrugged. “But knew I loved her and couldn’t imagine a day without her, so I figured it was as good a place to start as any. Thought we’d travel together for a few years, but the babies came quicker than either of us planned. So, I found myself a flock, and we put down roots.”
“Do you miss it? The traveling?”
“No.” Pops caught Brek’s gaze and held it. “Not for a second.”
Brek swallowed against his thick throat. “Thanks for handling the ceremony today.”
A smile twitched at the corners of Brek’s mouth. “Noted.”
Pops stepped down from the van. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I’ve married a lot of people and trust my experience—a man doesn’t look at a woman the way you looked at Velvet today unless he already knows.”
“Hey, I think I lost my earring…” Velma’s out-of-breath voice trailed close.
Brek sucked in a breath. “V, I thought you left.”
“Unless he already knows what?” Velma asked, climbing up into the bread-mobile.
Chapter Twenty
“Scripture,” Pops said. “Unless he already knows the…scripture. Brek here’s a real theologian.”
Brek? No way. Then again, Pops could convert anyone.
“Scripture?” she asked, confirming she’d heard him right.
“Yeah, you know, Bible shi—tuff.” Brek shoved his hands into his pockets. “What are you looking for?”
Somewhere between when they’d originally left and when they’d returned, one of Velma’s favorite pearl earrings had disappeared.
“My earring. I barely got out of the parking lot before I realized one of the pearls was gone.” She gave Pops a quick hug and grinned at Brek. “Have you seen it?”
“Seen what?” Brek asked, rubbing his forehead.
Velma raised her eyebrows. Was he serious? “My earring, silly.”
“Oh. Uh…no.” Brek shifted like he’d gotten caught with his fist in her candy jar of suckers. What was that all about?
“You’re acting weird.” She looked between Pops and Brek. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh fine, just fine.” Pops had a mischievous glint to his expression.
“What he said,” Brek muttered and knelt to run a hand along the floor.