To Have And To Hold: The Wedding Belles Book 1 (24 page)

Now it was Seth’s turn to look out the window, avoiding Maya’s prying gaze.

“She told me that you haven’t responded to her emails,” she said.

“Nothing to respond to,” he said. “I asked her to keep me informed, and she has. Until she asks me a direct question or says something I don’t like, I have no reason to respond.”

“Sure you do. So you don’t come across as a jerk.”

He flinched, and Maya sighed before punching his shoulder in that light, pesky way only a little sister could. “What is going on with you guys?”

Nothing. Just that we fucked each other sideways,
and then I found out the next morning that she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

He settled on something a little vaguer. “Nothing.”

“Right,” Maya said. “So you’re telling me it’s not going to be super awkward when we see her in ten minutes?”

His head jerked back around. “You said she wasn’t going to be there.”

Maya smiled serenely. “I lied, obviously.”

His head dropped back against the headrest. He felt her studying his face. “Maya. Don’t.”

“Come on, don’t be mad,” Maya said. “I know something is going on between you two, and I was worried you’d say no if you thought she’d be there, and I really need help making this decision.”

Seth’s eyes closed and he tried to focus on something—anything—other than seeing Brooke in the immediate future. “Okay, tell me about the place.”

Maya gave the dreamy sigh he now thought of as her “bridal” sigh. It happened whenever she talked about rose petals or ribbons or potential locations.

“It’s in this old office building that they’re just now finishing renovating. The entire building’s been vacant for years, but they’re getting ready to reopen, and Brooke got the inside track, found out that the upper floors haven’t yet been outfitted as offices, so it’s just this big open space with a view of the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s prewar, and the crown molding is just . . . gah . . . you’re going to love it.”

He gave her a look. “I’m going to love the crown molding?”

“Yes. Yes you are. And the fireplaces, too. They’re
not working, obviously, but Brooke has all these great ideas about how we can put up varying candle heights, create the illusion of a bursting flame—”

“Sounds like a fire hazard,” he muttered.

“Whatever, we’ll get flameless candles.” Maya pointed a finger at him. “Don’t try to take this away from me just because you have blue balls.”

“I don’t have blue balls. Also, I’m pretty sure that phrase goes against every sibling conversational code.”

She pursed her lips and sat up straighter, looking out the window. “We’re almost there. And Seth?” He looked at her, noticing the serious note in her voice. “You don’t have to love this just because I do. I want your honest opinion. But just . . . if you could try to be . . . just act, like . . .”

“Like I have a soul.”

Her nose scrunched. “I was going to say
agreeable
. Jesus, so morbid. Who gave you the idea you didn’t have a soul?”

Your damned wedding planner, that’s who.

Instead of answering, he jerked his chin the direction of her door. “Looks like we’re here.”

She clapped her hands in happiness as the driver opened her side. Before she got out into the frigid air, she reached across the car, touched his hand. “Thanks for doing this,” she said.

“Maya, you know I’d do anything for you,” he said quietly. “Seriously.”

“I know. Likewise, and Seth . . . don’t hate me, okay?”

He frowned. “For what?”

Maya
was already out of the car, the door slamming shut on his question.

“Maya. What are you . . . damn it.” Seth snatched up his gray scarf, hurrying out into the February-evening chill as he wound it around his neck and scanned the area for his sister.

Then he spotted her blond head immediately—getting into another car, which proceeded to speed away from the curb.

“Maya!” he shouted, but it was useless. She was long gone. He threw his hands up in the air. “What the hell is this all about?” he fumed.

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. A text from his interfering little sister. Talk to her. You’re welcome! Love you.

“Damn it, Maya,” he muttered again, this time with less heat.

“I think,” said a soft voice from behind him, “that this might be sibling matchmaking at its very most devious.”

Seth froze before he very slowly forced himself to turn around to look at the face that went along with that gorgeous voice.

Brooke.

J
UST
AN HOUR EARLIER,
Brooke had been thinking that Maya Tyler might go down as her favorite client of all time.

But with Seth Tyler bearing down on her, his expression torn between disbelief and rage, she was definitely rethinking her warm feelings toward Maya.

The woman had thrown her to the wolves.

No, wolf.

And this wolf was
pissed
.

Maybe he had a right to be. His sister had just dragged him downtown during rush hour under the apparently false pretense of needing his approval on a wedding space, only to disappear into the back of what must have been a preplanned escape car.

And now he was stuck here with her, the woman who’d compared him to a
building
.

No wonder he hadn’t responded to her emails. Not that her emails had been personal. Or even apologetic. They’d been entirely professional, more testing the waters to see if he even wanted to have contact with her.

Survey
said
nope
. Not a single response or acknowledgment. It had now been a week since The Sex, and they hadn’t exchanged a single word.

Judging from the murderous expression on his face, tonight wasn’t going to change that.

Brooke blew out a breath. “If you want to get right back into your car, I won’t take it personally.”

Much
.

His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t know about this?”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “You mean did I bribe your sister into dragging you here so that I could trap you into talking to me? No. Like you, I thought Maya only wanted to see the venue once more before signing the contract.”

His eyes flicked up to the building behind her. “So she really is considering doing it here?”

Even in spite of all the crap going on with her and Seth and her irritation at Maya’s meddling, Brooke didn’t bother to hide her excitement about the space behind her. “I think so. I hope so. It’s not glamorous, by any means, but it’s just, it’s . . .”

How did she describe perfection? Brooke had fallen in love with spaces before, but never before had she had her breath taken away by a building. But the Hamilton House, with its stately exterior and charming interior, had hit her at the gut level. She was a sucker for any space that managed to preserve its history while stepping into the modern times with delicate class, and the people behind the Hamilton’s restoration had gotten it exactly right.

Before she realized what she was doing, Brooke had hooked her arm in Seth’s, turning so that they
were both looking at the mid-rise building. It was unassuming, to be sure. The original brick had crumbled to the point of disuse, so the previously brick structure was now a more stable cement. But the original back had been repurposed to frame the doorway and windows. A strange-looking building, but all the lovelier for its quirkiness.

“Isn’t it great?” she said.

She didn’t expect him to respond, and he didn’t. Instead she glanced over to find him studying her.

“Want to go in?” he asked.

Brooke blinked. “Really? You want to?”

He lifted a shoulder against the cold. “I’m assuming you have an appointment, or whatever. Shame to stand someone up.”

“Actually, I have better than an appointment,” she said, digging into her purse and coming up with keys. “Let’s just say one of the property manager guys might have a little crush on me.”

His eyes were unreadable. “Is that so.”

Her breath caught a little at the unexpected possessiveness of his gaze and she blushed. “No, I just meant—”

He only shook his head and looked away. “I’d like to see inside. Maya, for all her manipulations, seemed genuinely excited about it.”

“She was,” Brooke said, grasping quickly at the subject change. “I think it’s exactly what she’s looking for.”

Seth gestured something at his driver before they both moved toward the door. He waited silently as she unlocked it, her hands fumbling only slightly at
the thought that she was once again spending time alone with Seth. It was strange, but as far as they’d come, as much as they knew each other—mentally, physically—all the tension of those early days came rushing back.

She wanted to beg him to tell her what he was thinking.

To know if he’d thought of her the way she thought of him.

If he could forgive her for the things she’d said but certainly hadn’t meant.

Brooke pushed the door open and stepped inside. The building, for all its newness from the renovation, still held the feeling of a structure that hadn’t been inhabited for a long, long time.

“The first tenants won’t be moving in until early April,” she said as they passed through a small but fancy marble foyer that would serve as the main reception area for the building. “It’s fourteen floors, the bottom twelve all office space. But there was dispute over the top two floors, some wanting to lease it as executive offices, others thinking it would be a better investment to turn it into residential space.”

“Who won?” he asked as she pushed the button on the lobby elevator.

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Secretly, I’m hoping residential, because I can’t imagine a better place to come home to at night—not that I could near afford it—but I’m not sure it’s been decided yet. Whatever it is, it’ll be a long-term investment. It’s just open space right now. They’ll need to figure out the floor plan, kitchen, appliances, blah, blah, blah.”

Seth
shook his head as they stepped into the small elevator. “Nightmare. All of this should have been planned from the very beginning. If this were one of my hotels—” He broke off, and she winced, wondering if he was remembering her callous words from before.

“Yes, well, there’s a reason why the Tyler Hotel Group is one of the most successful in the world,” she said quietly.

The elevator started upward, and they said nothing more until they reached the top floor. Seth reached out, setting a broad hand against the open elevator door and nodding her forward.

Brooke stepped out into the open space, the high heels of her suede boots clicking smartly against the dark hardwood.

“They should have done carpet,” he muttered, glancing down. “More practical.”

“Oh, no way,” she gasped. “There is nothing better than hardwood.”

His lips twitched. “I don’t think you understand just how much I’m trying not to make a joke right now.”

It took Brooke a moment to catch up, and she laughed when it clicked, grateful that she hadn’t completely killed his already hard-to-find sense of humor.

Brooke spread her hands to the side. “So?”

He glanced around, and she tried to see the building through his more trained eyes.

Still, regardless what lens someone was viewing the room through, she couldn’t imagine any fault. The dark floors contrasted perfectly with the white walls,
the windows were plentiful, and delightful arches were sprinkled in among built-in enclaves for window seats, decor, or cozy cuddles.

She moved toward one of the windows in the middle of the wall. “This is the best view. The angle of the Brooklyn Bridge looks like something from a movie poster.”

He moved behind her, not quite crowding her, but close enough that she could feel his warmth. Smell his scent.

“It’s beautiful.”

She swallowed, her brain knowing that he was talking about the scene before them, her heart—her stupid heart—wishing that he were talking about her.

Brooke moved aside before she could lean back. Or worse, put her hands on either side of that window, arch her back and beg him to take her from behind right there, right now. She hadn’t gone with the sexy dress that Heather had recommended, but Seth had proven extremely adept at removing her clothing, and it would be oh so easy . . .

Damn it.

“So as you can see, there’s plenty of space,” she said, moving back toward the wall with the light switches. The romantic shadows were messing with her head. She pressed onward. “The lack of interior walls gives us amazing flexibility. Dance floor in the middle, dance floor in the corner. We could go with a circular layout, or more linear. We could even—” Brooke flicked the lights on with one hand, turning back to continue giving her sales pitch, but he was right there.

Right
there.

She walked directly into his hard chest, having barely a moment to register surprise before his lips closed over hers.

The kiss was slow. Taunting. As though he knew exactly what she wanted, and what she wanted was this.
Him
.

Brooke kissed him back with everything, her tongue reaching for his as her fingers closed on his lapel, dragging him forward so they bumped awkwardly against the wall.