“Not our place to force someone to get married. She walked out long before your conversation. I’ll talk to Aspen about everything. She wouldn’t have pushed Sophie, either.”
Velma hugged the clipboard close. “They picked cheesecake. What do you think that means?”
“That they’d never make it down the aisle, apparently.”
“Sophie worried she’d be making a huge mistake by marrying Troy.”
Velma hit him with those gray eyes of hers, and his pulse stumbled over itself.
“I understand the whole not-making-mistakes thing,” she continued.
“What mistakes have you made, V?”
“I have a professional knack for dating horrible men.” The back of her head dropped against the wall.
“That’s because you want them to paint their fingernails.” Brek laid his hand across the back of the bench and leaned in.
Velma was silent. The only sounds came from Eli’s catering staff in the kitchen.
Brek glanced away to the empty bulletin board along the wall.
Her hands went limp against her lap.
He slung his arm across her shoulder and pulled her into his side. She fit perfectly. “I get it. You know what I think?” He inhaled the scent of her hair.
“I bet you’re going to tell me.”
She leaned into him, her hand against his chest. Fuck, that was nice.
“You’re trying to control things that are out of your control instead of embracing what can be.”
“Are you shrinking me?” Arching back, she caught his gaze.
“Nah. But I get it. You’re scared as shit to move forward with anything other than what you already know.” The hair along her temple practically begged to be touched.
“Are you using your mind powers to manipulate me?” Her hand was still on his chest.
“Silly girl, I don’t have mind powers.”
“Brek?” she asked.
“Velma?” he replied.
“You keep touching me,” she pointed out.
He ran his thumb along her jawline. “You’re very touchable.”
She gurgled a frustrated sound. “We’re professionals.”
“You’re touching me, too.” He wrapped his hand around hers—the one on his chest—and moved his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Do something different. Something crazy. Get a tattoo. Your plan hasn’t panned out, so do the opposite.”
“Mistakes cost. Planning works. It just takes time.”
He set her clipboard aside and settled his hand against her waist. “Or...we could make out in the hallway and see where that takes us.”
Her eyes went wide, but a nearly imperceptible smile ticked the corners of her lips. He focused there and settled in, his lips brushing lightly against hers, testing the waters before diving in headfirst.
She responded, opening her mouth and gripping his triceps with the pads of her fingertips, hanging on because she spent her days scared as hell that life would continue tossing her like a rag doll. Their tongues met, and she made the little squeak of a sound he felt in his dick. He wanted her.
