“I bet she could. I wonder what that might mean, though? Hmm.” Velma pinched her lips together.
“I think I’ve created a monster.” Brek ran his boot gently over her calf.
Crud. That felt nice.
She absolutely would not consider how nice it felt.
Like their kiss.
He caught her gaze. The moment stalled.
And she refused to let the feelings inside sink her.
Chapter Ten
Countdown to Claire & Dean’s Wedding: 5 Weeks
Brek had crazy-ass rockers to manage, but first he had to deal with weddings. The first wedding. Sophie’s wedding. He’d built a fucking tree house for her. Well, he’d helped build the damn thing.
They’d transformed the outside of the Estes Park Community Church into a bridal venue that would make Aspen proud. He snapped a final picture and texted it to his sister. Maybe that would keep her off his case during the final prep.
The inside of the chapel wasn’t big enough for Sophie’s guests, so they set up a chapel outside with taffeta-covered fancy bamboo chairs, the makeshift tree house, and a pergola for the vows. Jase had decked everything out with the orchids-from-hell. The fact that Brek could now distinguish taffeta from silk and orchids from dahlias was a testament to the vise grip these brides had on his balls.
Velma trotted around the corner of the church with a cardboard box filled with chocolates. The dog-slash-ring-bearer trotted beside her in his miniature tuxedo.
Brek had her on dog babysitting and goldfish centerpiece duty. Also, hanging-around-to-keep-him-sane duty.
She’d found a source for goldfish centerpieces and Skittles for the champagne glasses. How her guy had both, Brek wasn’t gonna ask. Some things were better left unknown.
“The chocolates have arrived.” Velma set the box down on one of the chairs. Hands on hips, she took in the scene. “You did good.”
“Thanks.” He took the leash from her. The dog yapped and did a whole body shake in his tux. The damn thing couldn’t be comfortable, especially in this heat.
Aspen had told him to wear a tux. He’d told her hell-to-the-no. The best she was gonna get was black jeans and a collared shirt.
Velma’s getup matched his—black pencil skirt, white tank top thing, and one of her perpetual sweaters to match. Sweaters in the summer made no fuckin’ sense to him, even if they were thin. Then again, if she wore the thin sweater without the tank top underneath, he could be 100 percent on board with that fashion trend.
Velma cleared her throat.
He glanced up from her chest and his daydreams about sweaters.
“Check it out. Aspen gave us these headset radio things. Isn’t that fun?” She held up a set of the two-way radios that clipped on the ear. He used something similar at concerts to talk to roadies and keep tabs on band members.
“What’s next?” Velma placed the headset in the box with the candy.
“You got the pearls?”
Sophie had been abundantly clear about the importance of the pearl necklace. It had belonged to some long-lost aunt, and apparently the happiness of the marriage hinged on her wearing them when Troy tossed his life into the Dumpster and promised her forever.
Velma grabbed the sleek wooden necklace case from the box of individually packaged truffles and handed it over.
He shoved the case into his back pocket. “Chocolates go on the chairs for the guests.”
“Here?” Velma asked.
“Aspen said chocolates go on the chairs for the guests. These are chairs. Those are chocolates.” One plus one equaled two.
Velma didn’t look convinced. “Do you think maybe she meant the reception chairs?”
