Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3
Page 23
“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.
Dean paused. “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”
“I know what it means, jerkwad.” Brek replied.
“She love you?” Eli asked.
He’d bet money she did, but she hadn’t said it. Here he was working on a plan to stick around Denver, and she hadn’t even said the words. “Pretty sure she’s getting there.”
“Then I’m happy for you two.” Dean clinked his beer bottle against Brek’s. “Here’s to the Johnson women.”
“What’re you going to do about the tour?” Eli asked.
That was the shit of it, wasn’t it? Brek had to leave soon.
“I’ve gotta go. But I’m working on plans so I can make Denver my base. Travel less. Stay with Velma.”
“Does she know?” Dean jerked his chin toward where Velma and Claire stood together by the jukebox.
He hadn’t told her. Not yet. “I’ve been waiting until I get everything sorted before I bring it up.”
“My advice? Don’t wait too long.” Dean stood. “I’m going to go dance with Claire.”
“His advice is good.” Eli followed Dean out of the booth. “Communication is a good thing.”
What the hell did the single guy know about communication?
“Hey.” Velma approached the table.
His pulse did a nosedive before picking up again. He’d gotten used to her presence doing that to him.
“Hey.” He held his arm out so she could slide beside him. “You wanna dance?”
She grabbed his hand to pull him out of the booth. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Hands on her hips, he pulled her close and nuzzled Velma’s neck. “Thought we might call a truce.”
“I like that idea.” Her arms around his neck, she met his gaze. “Claire said we have to be out of here by midnight. She wants everyone to get sleep.”
“Then we’ve got approximately thirty more minutes to figure out a way to get kicked out of this bar.” He twirled her in a circle.
“What do you have in mind, Mr. Montgomery?”
He pulled her palm to his mouth and pressed his lips against it, then kissed each of her fingertips. “I’m going to start a bar fight.”
“Claire will literally kill you if you show up tomorrow with a black eye and ruin her pictu
res.”
He grinned. “Then I guess I’ll just make out with my girlfriend.”
And he did.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Claire & Dean’s Wedding Day
Velma dropped her laptop onto the cart holding the video projector. She’d been running around all day getting things ready for the wedding. All that was left was to set up the slide show for the reception and then watch her sister get married.
Claire would actually be Dean’s wife by the end of the day. The wedding video Velma compiled had come out fantastic—if she did say so herself. She tapped a finger against the top of her computer. Now she had to figure out how to set the darn thing up.
The ballroom was perfect. The “Purple Rain” theme had been a challenge. But Brek and Jase had hung lights strategically from the ceiling of the country club, so it appeared to be drizzling. They added various water fountains staged meticulously around the dance floor, and the tulips hung from the ceiling in the entryway. The place would’ve made Aspen proud. The editor from Rosette was already losing his mind over the photos they were getting.
Velma and Brek continued with their cautious truce. He hadn’t been around much since their argument, between preparing for the wedding and spending time with his sister and his nephew. Brek had clearly fallen in love with being an uncle.
Could Velma ever really make a relationship work with him? She opened her laptop and stared at the screen. He would always be Brek, and no matter how much she changed, she’d always be Velma.
She slid the curser over the video program but skipped it to click on her spreadsheet file instead. With a few keystrokes, she added Brek’s name and filled in the accompanying cells. The algorithm she had worked so hard on gave him a…four.
Her heart cramped.
“Except…” She brought her face closer to the screen and jolted.
Finger on the mouse, she clicked through the columns. “Oh my gosh.”
He had been so odd the day he’d told her he loved her, asking her random questions and making crazy declarations about haircuts and disability insurance. He’d asked all those silly questions because he’d been checking off columns of her spreadsheet. She pinched her eyes closed, hope rising in her belly. This is what he had meant? He had been worried he wouldn’t be enough. That he needed to change.
Her breaths came quickly.
He loved her.
And, holy goodness…she loved him. She. Loved. Him.
Her heart stumbled over itself. They would be okay. They loved each other.
The spreadsheet could never account for how Brek made her feel. Like she mattered. Like he genuinely cared about her. Trying to ward off a heart attack with this new discovery, she dug her knuckles against the pressure forming in her chest. He wanted to be the man she needed. She wanted nothing more than to let him.
Brek jogged up the stairs of the country club, trying to find Velma. Claire had insisted the entire bridal party get ready at the club before heading to the church. Some shit about pictures on the lawn and champagne in the lounge.
He glanced to his watch. T-minus two hours before Claire and Dean said their vows and then embarked on their European honeymoon. The church was finally ready. Brek wrapped things up and headed back to the country club to confirm everything there was a go and to connect with Velma.
Brek checked in with the hairstylist downstairs, but Velma wasn’t there.
Meanwhile, his tuxedo was irritating as all hell. He still itched from the too-short haircut he had gotten earlier that morning. When Dean’s barber had brought out the electric buzzer, Brek knew he was screwed.
He missed his jeans. And his hair.
Seriously, where the hell had Velma gone?
He reached the top of the steps and turned toward the ballroom.
Aspen and baby Bronson were headed the same direction.
“What are you doing here?” He hurried toward them, reaching for his nephew. The tyke had quickly become one of Brek’s favorite people.
Aspen handed the baby over. “We needed out of the house. I figured we’d stop by and see how everything’s going.”
“Did you hear that, Bronson? Your mommy came to check up on Uncle Brek.” He snuggled the kid against his cheek.
“Well, there is that.” She wiggled her fingers toward the baby. “Uncle Brek is finally getting haircuts like a grown-up.”
Brek rolled his eyes. “I did it at the request of the bride. Jacob know you’re here?”
She laughed. “Uh. No. Don’t mention our little outing to him.”
“C’mon in and take a look how everything turned out.” Brek led the way to the ballroom.
She followed. He grinned as he entered…both from the view of Velma in her short tube dress bending over the projector and how his team had transformed everything in the room purple—literally, everything—from the tablecloths to the plates.
“What’re you doing?” he asked Velma.
She jumped and yanked at the hem riding up against her thigh. “Trying to get the projector to work. The audio is all fuzzy.”
Two cords hung limp in her palm.
God, she was beautiful. He liked the way she looked all decked out. Today they actually looked like they belonged together.
“Velma, that dress is fantastic.” Aspen took Bronson back. He fussed during the transfer. Of course he did, he loved his uncle.
Aspen did a sway-bounce combo to settle him.
Velma looked up at his sister. Her eyes got bright. “Oh my gosh, you brought the baby! Hi, Bronson.”
“Let me take a peek at the cables.” Brek shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out to run a fingertip along the edge of her dress on the way by. With Velma around, he would have to keep reminding himself he had a job to do today.
She glanced to him and the smile froze on her lips. She sucked in a breath. “I’m going to murder whoever did that to your hair.”
“I think you’re making an impression on him. He’s getting big-boy haircuts and everything now.” Aspen was in full-on little sister mode.
He refrained from sticking his tongue out at her.
“You don’t like it?” He ran a hand over his trimmed hair. It hadn’t been this short since high school.
Velma’s lips parted, and she paused for slightly too long. That didn’t bode well.
“V?”
“It’s just not what I’m used to.” The fabric of her skirt rode up again as she draped the cords over her laptop.
That dress was the fuckin’ best.
She straightened. He pulled her to him. Her fingertips smoothed the lapel of his suit coat. “I’ll get used to the hair. Do you like it?”
“Fuck no.” Why people did this regularly, he’d never understand. “Figured it was more your thing.”
Her lips tilted at the edges. “Tastes change, I guess.”
He leaned to kiss her, which wasn’t as far down as usual, given her three-inch stiletto heels.
“Diggin’ the shoes,” he said.
Velma turned her head to the side, so he missed and kissed her cheek.
He kissed the tip of her nose instead.
“Ahem.” Aspen cleared her throat.
Brek looked over his shoulder to the sister he’d forgotten was standing there. She was grinning wider than he’d ever seen. “Mom’s gonna get such a kick out of you two.”
“Don’t you dare bring our mother into my relationship,” he grumbled.
“I won’t have to. She’s Mom. She’ll find a way in.”
“Aspen stopped in to check up on me,” he said to Velma.
“Well, the last wedding didn’t exactly go as expected.” Velma scratched the little dimple at the tip of her nose.
“Actually, I wanted to tell you both thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.” Aspen shifted the baby in her arms. “And I was also checking up on you.”
“Told you.” Brek reached toward Bronson, letting the kid wrap his hand around Brek’s index finge
r.
“Anyhoo, since everything is under control, and I have a newborn, I should check in with Rosette and get Bronson home. I’ll leave you to it.” She cooed to Bronson as Brek disentangled his finger.
She left, and Brek’s heart about burst with happiness for what his sister had.
A sigh escaped Velma’s lips and her expression turned soft. “It’s impossible to be annoyed at you when you look at your family like that.”
“Then I guess now’s the time to make my move.” He kissed her with the urgency of a man who had to keep looking at her in that dress and do nothing about it. They were both breathing heavy when he finished.
The grip she had on his jacket lessened. “I need help with the audio.”
“Audio later. This now.” There had to be a closet or something around here they could utilize. Anywhere private, as long as she wore those damn shoes. His fingertips toyed with the slider on the zipper of her dress.
“Audio now. This later.” She giggled and pointed to the rolling cart with the projector.
He sighed dramatically and followed her. Even with the wires adjusted, the audio wasn’t playing right.
She slipped off her shoes and tossed them on one of the banquet folding chairs with the fabric covers. “I’m going to break my neck in those heels.”
“Nah, you start to fall, I’ll catch you. Those shoes are the shit.” He adjusted an adapter, but it still didn’t work. “I’m gonna grab Dean. He’s good with this stuff.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at his cell.
“Check it out. Pictures of the little beefcake.” The screen held the latest snapshot of his nephew. Aspen sent new photos regularly. His little nephew already had Brek wrapped around his finger. When the kid turned eighteen, Uncle Brek had big plans to buy him his very own motorcycle. Of course he didn’t mention this to Aspen—she’d lose her mind.
“Oh my gosh. Look at his chubby cheeks.” Velma’s own forehead relaxed, her eyes bright, expression soft.