Four Weddings and a Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (12 page)

“Do you even hear yourself anymore?” Veronica mumbled.

“If you gave Logan a chance before you found out he was a wolf, what’s changed so much between then and now?”

“Everything,” Veronica said, and ended the call.

Chapter Fourteen

Bright and early Monday morning, Veronica waited in the lobby of the hotel for the valet to bring her car around. She was more nervous to be on her own than before. Since the attack, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the stalker was closer. Watching her at all times.

Maybe she was safe here. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to find her if Logan’s name was the one attached to the reservation. It was the only thing keeping her nerves in check.

As her Lexus pulled up in front of the hotel, Veronica walked out and met the valet at the hood.

“Thanks,” she said, and handed him a five-dollar tip.

“No problem, ma’am,” he said, but instead of taking the money, he handed her a small white envelope. “I found this beneath your windshield wiper. Didn’t want it flying away.”

He handed her the keys and walked inside to help another hotel guest, leaving Veronica on the sidewalk, struggling to catch her breath.

She knew what the envelope was and whom it was from before her fingers curled around the edges. Flipping it over, she read: “The future Mr. & Mrs.…”

“Oh my God…”

He found me.

It was Leah and Jake’s wedding invitation. She recognized the red-ribbon decal lining the envelope right away. It was the same size. With the same rose bundle stamp that she’d ordered a month ago, specifically for Leah’s wedding.

Hands beginning to shake, Veronica bent the edges of the envelope and peered inside. No wolf hair. No red bloodstains. No emerald jewelry.

She sighed and pulled out the wedding invitation.

It was exactly how she remembered it. But there was another card inside. The RSVP card. Slowly, she pulled it out.

The
will attend
line was checked, and written at the bottom of the card was the word “soon…”

“Damn it all to hell.” Veronica hopped into her car and put it in gear.

Was the stalker watching her now? Waiting for her to leave so he could follow her to her next stop? She checked down the street, scanning both directions. Nothing. She glanced in the rearview. Everything was quiet.

Without thinking, she dug her cell phone out of her purse and started scrolling for Logan’s name.

No.

What was she thinking? Were her instincts totally out of whack?

She’d have to take care of herself. Look over her shoulder everywhere she went. Maybe after the dress fitting she should buy a can of mace or a knife. Better yet, maybe she’d stop by an ammo shop and see if they stocked Tasers.

Thinking about her course of action, Veronica took off as fast as she could into town.

Once she pulled into the Bridal Beat parking lot, Veronica got her things ready before opening her door. She took a deep breath and darted inside the building. The place was located in west Seattle, and had a Victorian theme going on with its gold-tinseled marble columns and long swags of fabric draped in front of the windows. She pushed through the glass front door and let it close quickly behind her.

Logan
.

He was sitting on a puffy chair against the far wall. A rack of bridesmaid dresses stood to his right, towering well over his head, and a pedestal had been set up on his other side providing the perfect place for brides to spin and twirl in front of their entourage. He wore jeans and a mocha-colored sweater that really made his light eyes pop.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, repressing a sigh at the sight of him.

“My job.”

“Yeah, well, this was stuck to my windshield this morning. Looks like the guy knows how to sneak into parking garages.” She tossed him the invitation. “Should make your job a little easier.”

“Shit.” He read quickly, then met her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.” She pushed out a laugh, but it came out tight and much too chipper. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because now you have a definite meeting date,” Logan said, checking out the RSVP card. “Soon…”

“Soon could be any time,” she said. “Not necessarily the wedding.”

“Which is why you should be extra vigilant.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink last night. “I don’t know when he could’ve put this on your car. I was up all night.”

“What good would that do when I’m staying across town?”

“I slept across the street from the hotel. In my truck.”

“Oh.” That was sweet of him. Selfless, too. The truck couldn’t have been comfortable to crash in. “I guess he found another way in.” Veronica tried to keep her tone light, but her insides shook. “I’m getting so tired of this. I just want this to be over so life can go back to normal.”

“It’s all right to be afraid.” Logan’s voice was a melody of deep rumbles. “Anyone would be under the circumstances.”

“If I’m afraid of anybody, it should be—”

“Can I help you?” the saleswoman behind the counter asked. She was blond and young. Too perky for 9:00 a.m. Monday morning.

Veronica spun around. “I’m here to try on and pick up Leah Vale’s wedding gown and the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“I see the dresses right here.” She pointed to the computer screen. “Go ahead and meet me in dressing room A and I’ll bring the dresses right in.”

“Okay, thanks.” Veronica watched as the blonde swept by the rack of dresses near Logan. He winked as she walked by, souring Veronica’s stomach. She shouldn’t have skipped breakfast. She was getting sick. “I don’t mean to cut in front of you, sir,” she said to Logan. “Were you trying on dresses today, too?”

Logan smirked and his dimple returned full force, making Veronica want to kiss his cheek and lick the sexy indentation.
Wolf,
she reminded herself. Not sexy. Hairy, foul, growling
werewolf.

“I still have a job to do, Veronica,” he said, “and now that I know what the guy looks like, I’ll have a better shot of finding him.”

Striding past the pedestal, Veronica entered the dressing room and stripped down. “I feel awkward doing this knowing you’re sitting right there,” she said, stopping at her white lace bra and matching panties.

“What’s there to feel awkward about? Are you touching yourself in there or something?”

“If I were out there I would smack you.” She covered up. “If you have to be here, couldn’t you at least wait outside in your truck? You’d be annoying either way, but that way I wouldn’t have to look at you.”

“Don’t want me to see you in a wedding dress? Don’t worry,” he said, much too confident. “I won’t be getting any ideas. I don’t like weddings, remember?”

“Oh, you don’t need to remind me of any of your shortcomings. I remember them perfectly well on my own.” She knew better than to rile him, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. He was probably like every other born werewolf she’d come into contact with: completely incapable of controlling his anger. He hadn’t shown any aggression toward her so far, but who knew what would happen if she pushed him too far? The blonde knocked on the door, opened it, and came inside with a long, opaque bag. She put her arms over her head and let the girl work. “I’m just curious…how much did Jake offer to pay you to sleep with me?”

The woman gasped, then covered it with a cough, and gently guided the wedding dress down Veronica’s body. Even though Veronica was sure that Jake didn’t pay Logan to seduce her the way he had, Logan
did
sleep with her while getting paid for his “services.” Now she wanted to know how much those services cost her future brother-in-law. Just how much was her safety worth to him?

“Too little, in my opinion,” Logan said. “You’re worth way more.”

“Sweet-talker,” Veronica mumbled to the blonde. She smiled and got to work crisscrossing the straps on the back. “How much?”

“Five.”

“Five hundred dollars?” Veronica pursed her lips and watched the dress take form in the mirror. “You’re right. That wasn’t enough.”

“Thousand,” Logan said, his voice low. “It was five thousand.”

The blonde’s hands stilled.

“Oh,” Veronica said, feigning indifference. “That’s…more than I expected.”

“Still not enough.”

If he didn’t stop the sweet-talking soon, Veronica was going to have to invest in earplugs. And if they didn’t clarify what they were really talking about, the assistant was going to think Logan was a high-class hooker.

“You’re finished,” the blonde said. “It looks like it was made to fit you.”

Veronica wouldn’t have agreed, since she and Leah were so different, but when she studied the dress in the mirror, she couldn’t argue about a thing. The dress was mermaid style, satin, strapless, with a corset in the bodice and an exaggerated flared bottom. Wrapping around her waist on the right side, a cluster of diamonds dipped toward her hip. It was simple. Elegant. Somehow very couture with its unique accents. Veronica wouldn’t have picked the dress for Leah—it was more her style than her sister’s—but Leah must’ve loved it regardless.

“Go show him,” the blonde said, and urged Veronica out of the dressing room. “Then demand ten. You’ll get it in this dress.” She winked, and Veronica’s mood instantly lightened.

…

As Veronica tiptoed to the podium, the air seemed to evaporate from the room. Logan couldn’t take a solid breath—his lungs kept coming up shallow. The assistant flared the bottom around the podium to show the full effect of the dress, then stood back.

“What do you think?” the blonde asked.

“I, ah…”

Veronica caught Logan’s gaze in the mirror. He was staring at her backside, at the straps of the corset that crisscrossed down her back. How could he not? She was drop-dead gorgeous. Literally. He wouldn’t be surprised, not one bit, if his heart stopped.

“…it’s good,” he said, very matter-of-factly. He had to get out of here. “Yup, it’s good. I think I’ll wait in the truck.”

She spun around. “But you haven’t seen the bridesmaid dresses yet.”

His gaze studied the front of her dress, from the whimsical fluffy bottom, to the smooth, shiny fabric curving around her hips, to the straight-edged neckline that accented the soft swell of her breast. His mouth dropped, and he sucked some saliva off his bottom lip.

“I don’t think I want to see those, the bridesmaid dresses, nope.” He stood and started to walk out…and burst through a door into empty dressing room B. Confused, he spun around and strode toward the exit. “That’s the one you’re going to be wearing when you marry…I mean, that’s not going to be the one you wear at your sister’s wedding, right? When you walk with me down the aisle?”

“Ugh.” She put her hands on her hips. “I forgot I had to do that with you.”

“Go put that dress on.”

He wanted her out of that wedding dress as quickly as possible before notions of weddings and vows, taking her hand and slipping a ring on her finger, invaded his brain.

Too late.

His knees shook as he waited for Veronica to come out of the dressing room in something different. He needed to cleanse his visual palate. Forget all about the white dress and the way it hugged her body, and the fluffy bottom that made him want to crawl between her legs and—

She emerged from the dressing room and stopped his heart.

The dress was satin, tight and black, with a layer of lace over the top. The lace had intricate designs crisscrossing down her arms and across her back. While the top was high-collared and long-sleeved, the bottom was cut short, showing off her legs, their strength and beauty and flawless tan.

“That’s no better,” he said, squelching the desire to lick one of those fine stems. “Where’s the other part of the dress? The bottom half?”

“This is it.” She spun around. “What’s the matter, Logan? You look pale.”

He blinked quickly, trying to return the moisture to his eyes. It didn’t work. His lids stuck, making blinking at all highly painful. He rubbed them with the side of his hand. “I’ll be waiting in the truck,” he said. And as he strode around the building, Logan could’ve sworn he heard the sound of two women laughing their asses off.

Chapter Fifteen

It was Wednesday when Veronica got the call: Forever Delicious had hired a new baker who wanted to try a different flavor of cake for Leah and Jake’s wedding. If Leah could just come in, taste, and approve the change, Forever Delicious would throw in the traditional groom’s cake for free, in hopes that the uniqueness of it would get people talking about the cake and the company. It was a good deal…if Leah was willing to do some sampling.

Veronica arrived at Forever Delicious, fully aware that Logan had been following her from the second she pulled away from Hotel Monaco. At first, when she’d seen his truck out the rearview mirror, she’d been irritated. Bothered to no end that she had to put up with a werewolf dogging her every move. But then the sun would shine through his driver’s side window and she’d get a glimpse of his face…and her entire demeanor would change. She’d thought more than once about telling him to just get in her car—it was a horrible waste of gas since they were going to all the same places anyway.

But then she’d think of her sister, the wounds that had bled on her neck, and the werewolf who was still out there. If Logan wasn’t at her side, following two steps behind her, Veronica would’ve probably been too stressed to function. Between the weddings, the appointments, and the notes, it would’ve been too much to handle. But Logan somehow made things seem clear. Easy. There was nothing to worry about when she was standing beside his strong frame, watching his gaze scan the sidewalks behind her.

How had it happened? How had she come to depend on a wolf to feel safe? The concept was ludicrous. Backward. Why, then, did it felt so right?

Going along with business as usual—all she could do, given the circumstances—Veronica walked into the small cake shop and was instantly chilled. There was someone out there, right now, watching her. Was he walking by the shop? Across the street? As quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared, leaving her feeling just as she had before: painfully aware that she wanted Logan beside her.

“Be right with you,” a guy in a chef’s hat and ballooning apron said from behind a long white counter.

“No worries.” Veronica set down her bag and started flipping through a book stand with laminated pictures of wedding cakes. The cakes were beautiful, no doubt. There were multitiered cakes with smooth whipped frosting and flowers dripping down the sides. There were waterfalls of fondant. Sugar crystals lining the bottom. Roping around every tower.

Although Veronica could admire the handiwork and talent that went into making those cakes, she’d never actually envisioned her wedding having one. When she dreamed of her wedding, she pictured a beach. A floral arch and the man of her dreams standing beneath it. A simple bouquet of her favorite flower—soft pink roses tied with a white ribbon. No cake, but dinner and drinks after with close friends and family to celebrate. And she’d be barefoot, with a simple white dress that flowed to her ankles.

No fuss. No worry or stress like the others she planned on a regular basis.

She flipped a tab to the section on groom’s cakes, just in case she approved of the new flavor that the baker was offering.

The groom’s cakes were supposed to mean something to the groom. There were green-frosted cakes made to be a putting green, fishing-inspired ones with blue waves of whipped frosting coating the sides and bottom. A cake for every groom, something catered for every interest.

“I’ve always wondered why people like those,” Logan said from beside her.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, but was instantly comforted by his presence. “People like them because usually the bride is the one who does all the wedding planning, and her style is prevalent in everything from the dresses, to the flowers, to the favors. But the groom’s cake is for the groom. His style and what he enjoys.”

“I think it’s lame.”

“Well yeah, because you can’t make a cake look like a full moon.”

“Sure I can,” the baker said from the counter. “Round cake, yellow and white buttercream frosting. It’d be no problem, if that’s what you wanted.”

Veronica laughed, her chest tight. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’m Leah Vale and I’m here to try out the new flavor for my wedding cake.”

Logan stood beside her, continuing to flip through the book as if he hadn’t heard what she just said.

The baker checked his computer screen, moused down a few pages, then smiled. “Right here. The Vale-McKenna wedding. It’s going to be a gorgeous cake—a masterpiece.” He looked up at Logan. “You must be Jake.”

“N—” Veronica started.

“The one and only,” Logan blurted, striding up to shake the baker’s hand. “Great to meet you. I really admire your work.”

Oh, he really could lay it on thick.

“That’s kind of you,” the baker said, his smile stretching ear to ear. “It’s always great to hear your work is appreciated.”

Veronica stepped up to the counter and clutched at the strap of her handbag so that she wouldn’t punch Logan in the face. “What’s the new cake flavor you wanted me to try?”

“Wanted
us
to try, dumpling.” Logan wrapped his arm around Veronica’s shoulder. She tried to shrug him off the way she did before, but this time he held tight. “You’re always making decisions without me. I’d like to be included on this one, if you don’t mind.”

“We don’t get too many grooms wanting to be included in the wedding cake decision-making process,” the baker said, digging into the fridge on the back wall. “You’ve got a great one there, Ms. Vale.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a winner,” Veronica said, jerking away from him. “Definitely the top of the pack.”

Logan huffed into a laugh, then took a seat at the table behind her. “Why don’t you sit, sweetheart. We’re about to have a real treat.” He kicked out her chair.

Veronica sat down as the baker put a silver tray in front of them. Eight plates with small cake squares covered the tray and begged to be eaten. Her stomach growled.

“The new flavor is on the tiny pedestal in the center, but I’ve included all the other testing flavors as a treat.” The baker stood back and waited, watching. “Dive in.”

“I think I’ll take this one.” Veronica took a bite out of the brown one that she hoped was plain ole chocolate. “Mmm…” She closed her eyes and licked her lips as the richest chocolate she’d ever tasted hit her tongue. It was moist and rich with subtle hints of mocha and caramel. “That’s delicious,” she said. When she opened her eyes, both men were looking at her as if she’d just had an orgasm in the store. “What? Can’t a girl enjoy a slice of heaven?”

“That’s the one you vetoed on your last visit,” the baker said. “At least that’s what’s written on your chart. I wasn’t here to know for certain, but I can make a change if you’d like.”

That’s right—Leah hated chocolate. “I’m sorry, but my tastes change so much nowadays, it’s difficult to keep track. Whatever I chose before will suit just fine.”

“Wish your opinion would change as easily when it came to other things.” Logan made the jab quickly, then picked up a square of white cake and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. “Oh meah,” he mumbled, mouth full of marbled white and red. “Nthat raspbberby?”

The baker clapped his hands over his robust belly. “It’s white cake with cream cheese and sprinkles of fresh raspberries spread in the center.”

“It’s tasty.”

“Geez, you really
wolfed
that one down.” Sighing, Veronica leaned back in her chair. “You’re making a terrible mess.”

“Darling, if I’ve got something on my face, why don’t you lick it off?” He leaned in close, puffing out his cheek, but when Veronica simply stared, he returned to his previous position, practically drooling over the cake. “Don’t mind if I take another then.”

He picked up one that was buttery-yellow with a brown center and chomped off a huge bite.

“Howl’s that one?” Veronica smiled, enjoying the fire blazing in her belly. “Good?”

Ignoring her completely now, Logan slid a napkin from beneath one of the trays and smashed it across his lips.

“I’m truly sorry for the mess my fiancé is making,” Veronica said to the baker. “I should keep him on a tighter leash.”

Logan choked. Veronica smacked him hard on the back. “Oh, are you okay,
Jake
?”

He composed himself, but it took longer than a minute for him to wipe the scowl off his face.

“That’s the Italian rum cake.” The baker smiled proudly. “One of my personal favorites.”

“Jake, honey, you should slow down or the baker isn’t going to know which one you truly enjoy and which one you’re just pretending you enjoy until you find one better.” She shot him a slanted smile. “I know how you don’t like to commit to things, but he’ll need a decision before we leave today.”

“I may not come to decisions easily, but at least he knows I enjoy his baking. If I take a bite of this one”—he bit half of a yellow square—“and moan and groan, that means I like this cake, whether it’s lemon or butter yellow or pineapple. It’s good, by the way.” He nodded at the baker, who smiled without showing his teeth. “But it wouldn’t make a damn lick of sense if I picked up this piece of cake, moaned and groaned and screamed its praises to high elevator-shaft heaven, then when I found out that it was lemon, tossed the sucker in the trash and cursed this poor guy out.”

“I’ll, uh, be waiting in back.” The baker skirted behind the counter.

Hearing his message loud and clear, Veronica leaned over the table. “But that lemon cake wasn’t responsible for ruining someone’s life.”

Logan frowned. “How can lemon cake ruin someone’s life?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! It can’t, but I was just—” She threw her arms over her head. “Forget it, okay? I might’ve moaned and groaned or whatever, but that was before I knew what you were.”

“Why does that matter?”

“What do you care, anyway? It’s not like what happened between us is going to turn into anything either of us want.” The fire in her belly was gone now, replaced by a feeling of emptiness that hundreds of squares of cakes couldn’t fill. “I can’t be with a wolf, I won’t. You guys can’t be controlled and what happens if we get in a fight or something and—”

“You mean fights like we’ve been having since we met each other?”

Her head fogged. “You don’t want to be with me anyway.”

“I do, actually.” His eyes shone a honey shade of brown. “More than I should, and in more ways than you can imagine.”

Numbness tingled beneath her skin, as if her nerves were waking up after being kinked for too long.

“Know what I don’t understand?” He leaned over the table, planting his elbows on the edge. “Your sister was attacked by someone from our pack, yes. And she went through a really difficult transition, I’ll give you that. But she’s happy now. She and Jake are in love and going to spend the rest of their lives together. I may not want the same things Jake wants, but I’m smart enough to know a perfect fit when I see one. They belong together. How can you possibly hate wolves, when you see how much joy being one has brought to your sister and my best friend?”

His words sliced through her. “You’re right, you don’t understand,” she said, barely able to speak. “Our parents died when we were teenagers. We’ve lived on our own since then, Leah and me, just the two of us. We’ve looked after each other and been by each other’s side through everything…well, everything except this stalking fiasco.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.” Logan ripped another napkin from beneath the plate and started wringing it out. Veronica wondered absentmindedly if that’s how Logan controlled his anger—the clenching fists, wringing things out and balling them up in his hands. “How’d they die?” he asked.

“Car accident. Drunk driver swerved over the yellow line. It was a long time ago, but it hurts like it happened yesterday.” He reached for her hand. She pulled it back and set both hands in her lap. If he touched her now, she’d lose her composure and fall apart completely. “Leah was the only family I had left in the world. The only person who really, truly knew me. We were family.”

“Why are you talking about her in the past tense?”

“It’s not the same as it was before.” It was the only way Veronica could explain it.

“You mean
she’s
not the same.”

“She’s part of your wolf pack now. She’s got a new husband, a new family of über-protective wolves surrounding her. Where am I in the mix of all that?” Anger flashed through her veins. “I’m left out. I’m not a part of your pack functions or holidays. She’s moved on and I’m—”

“Left behind,” he finished for her. “You feel alone again, like when your parents died. You’re not angry, you’re grieving.”

“No, that’s not what’s happening at all.” She shook her head and leaned over the cakes, pointing into Logan’s chest. “I’m saying that a werewolf took Leah from me. He took away the only family I had left and ripped my heart out.”

She couldn’t talk about this anymore. She just couldn’t do it. The pain was too much to bear.

After her parents died, Veronica couldn’t function. Between the courts and the paperwork, she didn’t have time to grieve. She didn’t shed a single tear, not even at their funeral. To survive, she shut out the pain. But she shut everything else out, too. For years, there was no happiness and no laughter in her life. No purpose. In order to separate the two, Veronica foolishly imagined there was a door to her emotions that only she could access. She envisioned doors that led to happiness, and others that led to pain. She went into the wedding business to keep herself walking forward, opening door after door that led to happiness.

The fact that it always led to others’ happiness didn’t matter.

Odd, but she’d never thought of the childish coping mechanism until today. Not until this moment. All she wanted to do was get out of this bakery and forget Logan Black ever walked into her life.