To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)

Disappointing. Highly disappointing.

“You’re early this morning,” Alexis observed.

“And a good thing, too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have known that we have a handsome British accountant working with us.”

She said it casually, flirtatiously but harmlessly so, and was doubly intrigued when Logan blushed. God, he was cute.

“A handsome British . . .? Ohhhhhh,” Alexis said. “You mean Logan.”

Logan gave her an exasperated look. “Really? You have more than one accountant?”

Alexis shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to your accent.”

“And his handsomeness—you’re used to that, too?” Brooke teased.

Alexis only blinked at her in semi-confusion. Brooke snorted. For a woman who was so on top of things, sometimes her boss could be strangely obtuse.

Either that or she had a damn good poker face.

Maybe a bit of both.

“Well, much as I’d love to sit and crunch numbers with you two, I should probably get to work,” Brooke said as she lifted her drink in farewell and headed toward the stairs. “But Alexis, whenever you’re done, I was hoping we could chat before the day gets too crazy.”

“Of course,” Alexis said, studying Brooke with that too-sharp gaze. Brooke had the most unsettling feeling that Alexis somehow knew what she wanted to talk about, which made no sense.

But then, that was Alexis for you. One step ahead of everyone.

“Lovely to meet you, Ms. Baldwin,” Logan said.

“Lovely to meet you, too, Mr. Harris. Hope you’re allowed above board long enough to see the sun come up.”

“Above board?” Alexis asked.

“Inside joke,” Brooke said with a wink at Logan.

Alexis’s eyes narrowed, and Brooke hid a smile. Maybe her friend wasn’t quite so unaware of Logan as she was pretending, because she clearly wasn’t loving the fact that there was an inside joke she wasn’t in on.

There was a story there, with Logan and Alexis, but Brooke would bet serious money that Alexis didn’t even know it yet.

Up in her office, Brooke booted up her computer as she sipped her latte and stared out at the chilly New York morning that was just beginning to show the first traces of life as people trudged to work and started on their daily post-weekend grind. She was still struggling like hell to get used to the frigid weather, but Brooke was surprised to realize that she liked having an actual winter.

The year-round sunshine in California had its benefits, certainly, but there was something lovely and quiet about a true winter. The short days and cozy nights curled up under a blanket were relaxing and reflective, allowing her a chance to sit and contemplate in a way that the long LA days and nights hadn’t really permitted. Not that Brooke allowed herself to do much of that lately. It had been hard enough to keep her feelings about the Clay situation at bay, and now there was Seth Tyler muddying things up even further.

For starters, the man was too damn serious. Yeah, he had a sense of humor lurking under that sharp gaze, but he also wasn’t easy. He’d demand more than she was willing to give just by being him, but he wouldn’t give anything back.

Pleasure, certainly. She was positive that they’d do just fine in bed.

But what about after that?

Seth didn’t want to get married. Hell, the man barely looked like he wanted to date.

And Brooke . . . Brooke did want that. She so desperately wanted a nice man who’d take her to dinner, buy her pretty things, and most of all, who’d hold her. Who’d pull her close, wrap his big arms around her, and just let her lean. Without plan or agenda.

A kind man, a gentle man, who wanted to build a life with her.

That’s all she wanted. Not so much to ask, really.

Seth Tyler was not that man.

But he could kiss. Holy hell, could he kiss.

Brooke’s phone rang, and she winced when she saw the caller ID. Nothing like seeing one’s mother’s name pop up on the screen to ruin what could have turned into a good X-rated daydream.

She flicked her finger lightly against her forehead, willing the filthy images of Seth Tyler to fade from her mind before she picked up the phone.

“Hey, Mom! You’re up early. Like, really early.”

“I started this new predawn yoga class,” her mother said in a voice that was far too energetic considering it was barely five a.m. in California. “And they have a juice bar connected to it featuring a really lovely collection of sea vegetables.”

Um, gag.

“Yummy,” Brooke managed in response.

Brooke considered herself to be a fairly health-conscious modern woman. She exercised regularly, tried to eat assorted salads for lunch most days. But Heidi Baldwin was a whole other level of health nut. Calorie counting, juice cleanses, clean eating, the whole deal.

“How’s New York, darling? Are you making sure to get plenty of fresh air?”

“You live in LA, Mom,” Brooke said, picking up her latte. “Not exactly known for being smog-free.”