“Not stupid enough to threaten a cop, asshole. You sure you want to play this game? Because you’ll lose.” Brek’s fingertips itched to strangle the son of a bitch.
Jase grabbed Brek’s arm.
“I’m not thinking that’s gonna happen. Which of us would make her the happiest? Pretty sure you know that’s not you.” Wayne moved to the side. “Have a good night, gentlemen.”
Wayne strode away.
Brek clenched his back teeth so hard they should have cracked.
Jase rocked back on his heels. “We both know he’s wrong.”
“Yeah.” Brek stared down at the phone in his palm. He punched in Velma’s number. Her cell rang several times before her voice mail picked up: “Hi, you’ve reached Velma, please—”
He hung up and handed it back to Jase.
Jase pinched his lips closed. “Probably better you talk to her in person.”
Brek jogged toward his bike. An acrid twinge pinched in his chest. He would never outrun the truth of Wayne’s words.
* * *
Velma limpedto her bedroom with her laptop under her arm and an ice pack against her backside. She propped a pillow under her hip, grimacing at the ache.
Her ringtone came from her phone in the other room. Ugh. She’d left it on the counter. She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and hobbled to the kitchen.
“Hello?” she said into the phone, dropping her elbows to the counter.
Double ugh. She’d missed the call from Jase. She dialed him back. Voice mail.
Claire had asked her to do a slide show for the reception, and all that was left was the background music. Velma had hoped Brek might help her choose the songs, but it looked like she would be on her own. She moved back to the bedroom.
Frustration from the night bubbled in her veins. She shook it off and lifted the screen on her laptop. Instead of clicking the video maker, she clicked open her spreadsheet program. Her cheeks flushed when she stared at her long-neglected dating file.
She tapped the arrow keys, scrolling the file to the bottom. She fell back against the pillows and added Wayne’s name. No surprise, he got a nine. But Wayne had never once made her toes curl or her blood pressure rise—in the best way. He’d never challenged her or made her try new things. Not the way Brek had.
Brek’s encounter with the groupie at the club. His absence at dinner. They replayed in her mind as she stared vacantly at the cells. She smacked her laptop lid closed and placed it aside.
“Velma?” Brek shouted from the kitchen. The clank of his keys against the counter and his boots against the wood floor were a relief she hadn’t expected.
“I’m in here.” Her voice cracked. She pushed herself up.
He burst in, dropped next to her on the bed, and wrapped her in his arms. It had only been one evening, but it felt like forever.
“Thank God,” he said against her forehead. “Jase said you got hurt.”
He held her away from him, his gaze settling on the pillow she’d propped against her backside. His hand went to her waist, just above the bruise. “How bad is it?”
“I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing.” Their breaths mingled as he pulled her to him once more. “Aspen’s in labor. Did Jase tell you?”
“Called Ma. No baby yet. She’ll call your phone when I need to head that way.” He let out a long sigh, not releasing her. “I fucked up and I’m sorry. Shit happened tonight at the club, and my phone’s no longer capable of making or receiving calls. What happened was a fluke. I don’t want to miss anything.”
“You seemed to be having a good time when I saw you there,” she said against his throat.
He shifted on the bedspread, laying her back into the cocoon of pillows she had settled into earlier. His heavy boots clunked to the carpet. He stretched out beside her, resting his hand on the ice pack. “Things took longer than expected.”
“Did it go okay? The meeting?”
Something funny passed over his face. “Yeah.”
