* * *
Brek joggedup 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.
