Man Feast (Bergen Brothers Book 2)

by Krista Sandor

  “Harvey!” he gasped. “Is Elle Reynolds home?”

  The cranky old doorman stared him down. “You young people! Never a hello! Never a ‘How’s your day, Harvey.’”

  Shit! He didn’t have time for this.

  “I’ll check for myself.” He ran to the elevators.

  “You’ll have to take the steps,” Harvey called. “They’re doing some maintenance work on the elevator shaft.”

  Double shit!

  He ran to the door leading to the stairwell, threw it open, and hurried up. Taking the steps three at a time, he threw off his restrictive tie and jacket and clutched her hat. This had to work. He’d spill his guts. He’d do it while salsa dancing—if that’s what she wanted.

  He’d watched the viral video. He wasn’t half bad.

  He shook his head and got himself back into the game. Finally, he’d made it to the eleventh floor. He ran down the hall to find the door to her apartment wide open.

  He burst inside, holding up the hat like the Olympic torch. “Eleanor! Elle! I love you! I want a life with you! I want to have this baby with you!”

  He glanced around the apartment and found…

  His brother—in the kitchen—eating peanut butter off a spoon.

  Brennen put his hands up. “Don’t tell Elle I raided her fridge. I just got her to start to like me.”

  Jasper looked around, waiting for Elle to materialize. “Bren, where’s Elle, and why the hell are you here?”

  “To get her bag,” he said, pointing the spoon toward the suitcase next to the door.

  “Is she leaving?” His heart rate kicked up. Was she not only done with him, but done with Denver?

  “No, Abby texted me and asked me to get it. Elle’s going to stay with us in the bungalow for a while.”

  “Why? Is she unwell? Is it something with the baby?”

  Brennen twisted the lid back onto the jar of peanut butter. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong. Elle just got back into town last night.”

  Jasper ran his hand through his hair. “Do you know where she is now?”

  A pang of agitation rippled through him. How could his brother be casually eating peanut butter at a time like this?

  Brennen put the spoon into the dishwasher then joined him in the living room. “Abby’s with her. Well, was with her.”

  “Where’d they go?”

  Bren looked away. “Elle had an ultrasound appointment.”

  Jasper rolled up his sleeves, ready to spring into action. “Let’s go! Call Abby. Find out which doctor.”

  Brennen shook his head. “I think it’s over.”

  Dammit! He should have been there. “Where are they now?”

  Brennen checked his watch. “Abby’s back at Whitmore. She took the morning off to be with Elle, but her class has a poetry thing this afternoon, and she had to get back to school.”

  Jasper shifted his weight, trying to work out a plan. “Can you call her? Can you ask her where Elle is?”

  Brennen’s expression grew guarded. “She doesn’t have her phone on when she’s teaching and—”

  He cut his brother off. “And I royally screwed up with Elle. I know, Bren. I know! And now, I’ve got to make it right.”

  “Jas, it’s just…”

  “Just what? Spit it out, Bren.”

  “I think you really hurt her. From what Abby’s told me, it sounds like Elle is ready to raise the baby on her own.”

  Jasper swallowed hard. What hurt more—thinking of Elle raising a child by herself or knowing with her strength and drive, she’d probably be all right without him?

  He paced the length of the apartment and stopped when he passed her bedroom and saw the teddy bears lined up in a neat row across her dresser. He went into her room and picked up the mother bear and the two cubs. He held them up for his brother to see.

  “She still cares about me. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have these.”

  “Stuffed animals?”

  “Yes, stuffed animals. I sent them to her. This is the mother bear and her two cubs from our first night together in the cabin.” He scanned all the bears. “Hold on! The Dean Largecox bear is missing.”

  “Dean, who?” Brennen shot back.

  “Largecox. He’s my bear alter ego,” he answered, checking her bookcase.

  “You have a stuffed animal alter ego named Dean Largecox?” His brother’s mouth hung open.

  It sounded a hell of a lot crazier discussing Dean Largecox with anyone but Elle.

  He met his brother’s gaze. “Bren! I don’t have time to get into it. I need to find Elle.”

  But Brennen wasn’t done. “Where did this alter ego come from, Jas?”

  “Elle! She made it up because she’s creative and inventive, and I need to get her back. Can you get over Dean Largecox and help me out here? This is the mother of my child we’re talking about.”

  “Okay, okay,” Bren said, pacing the room. “Abby would know where she is.”

  “But she’s teaching.”

  Excitement lit Brennen’s face. “Yeah, but her students are doing a poetry reading for their parents this afternoon. We could go to her school, pretend like we’re there for the reading, and slip in and ask her about Elle. Come on, let’s head over there now. The reading starts soon.”

  “Wait!” Jasper said and ran into the kitchen.

  His brother frowned. “What are you doing, Jas? Are you going to make a sandwich?”

  “No, I need eggs.”

  Bren’s frown grew into a look of complete astonishment. “You’re going to fry a flipping egg? Now?”

  “No! I just need them. Grandad and Allen Parker told me the story of when mom told dad she was pregnant with me.”

  “Why’d they do that?”

  “Because Dad freaked out on Mom sort of like how I freaked out on Elle.”

  “No way!” Bren replied.

  “Yeah, Mom threw eggs at him.”

  “Mom always had a good arm,” Bren mused. “But, wait! Why are you getting eggs?”

  “Just in case Elle wants to throw something at me.”

  Bren nodded. “Good call! I’ll drive.”

  Jasper grabbed the carton of eggs, tucked Elle’s hat under one arm and the plush bears under the other.

  Brennen held the door open, and they ran to the elevator.

  Still out of order.

  They hit the stairs. It wasn’t easy running with a carton of eggs, and soon, the carton grew damp. He wiped the leaking egg onto his shirt as they passed his discarded tie and jacket and kept going. Finally, they made it to Brennen’s car and tore out of the garage—but not before another egg cracked.

  Like a bat out of hell, Bren turned onto the boulevard that led to Abby’s school and glanced over at him. “I’m proud of you. Stepping up. Doing the right thing.”

  Jesus Christ on a cracker! Was he really going to have to listen to his brother, the former manwhore of Denver, lecture him on being a good man? On stepping up?

  Oh, if his father could see him now—covered in raw egg, listening to Bren spew relationship advice. But he couldn’t help smiling, thinking of his dad—and believing there was a chance Elle could forgive him just like his mother had forgiven his father.

  Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the side mirror.

  Disheveled didn’t even come close to describing what he looked like. Businessman versus garbage truck and garbage truck wins was more like it.

  But he didn’t care. Whatever it took, he’d prove himself.

  “We’re here,” Bren said and parked the car in the Whitmore lot. He glanced over. “Holy flip, dude!”

  Jasper shifted in his seat, careful not to get egg on the hat or the bears. “I know! I know! I’m a damn mess.”

  His brother grinned. “No, that’s not what I meant. You look more like yourself than you have in years.”

  “Covered in egg yolks?”

  Bren grinned. “No, like you’re passionate about something—like how you used to loo
k when you were on ski patrol.”

  Jasper shook his head. “Elle used to call me a hollow bunny.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Someone who’s empty on the inside.”

  Bren chuckled. “That’s spot-on. Elle doesn’t mince words.” His expression grew serious. “But don’t think for a minute I don’t know why you turned into a hollow bunny. We all changed—you, me, and Cam—because it just…”

  It just hurt so damned much to lose their parents.

  Jasper swallowed past the emotion in his throat. “I know, Bren. I know.”

  Brennen released a tight breath. “Even if we find Elle and she kicks your ass to the curb—which you probably deserve—don’t go back to that place. Don’t go back to living like a robot. It’s not you.”

  Jasper blew out a shaky breath. “Let’s hope she forgives me.”

  “Bergen brothers on three?” Bren said, putting out his hand like they were about to play in a Junior Varsity soccer tournament.

  Jasper stared at his brother.

  “Too much?” Bren asked.

  “Yes, but…” Jasper put in his hand. “Screw it! If I’m all in, I’m all in. Bergen brothers on three.”

  They did the cheer then stared at each other.

  Brennen cringed. “Let’s never do that again.”

  Jasper opened the car door. “Agreed. Let’s go!”

  They jogged up to the school and joined the line of parents entering the building. Jasper recognized the school’s principal, Mrs. Ramos, greeting the families and directing them into the auditorium.

  “Hello, Brennen and…” The principal stared at him.

  “You remember my brother, Jasper,” Brennen replied smoothly.

  The woman pasted on a smile, and her gaze darted to his egg covered shirt. “Yes, hello, Jasper.”

  Brennen stepped forward. “We wanted to wish Abby and her class good luck before the poetry reading began. Would you mind if we went to her room?”

  The principal’s cheery grin was gone. “But the reading starts in five minutes. We pride ourselves on running like a well-oiled machine here at Whitmore Country Day.”

  Crap! They could not get shut down by the punctuality patrol!

  Jasper glanced at the wall and saw a poster with a graph of the money the school had raised for a new playground.

  He pointed to it. “We’d also like to donate the rest of the funds needed to build the new playground,” Jasper added. He was not above a little wink-wink nod-nod bribery to bust into this building.

  The woman’s eyes went wide. “That’s quite generous of you!” She glanced at her watch. “Now we’ve only got four minutes before the children are expected in the auditorium.” Her gaze flicked to the graph. “But I can’t see the harm in saying a quick hello and wishing them good luck.”

  Bingo!

  They bypassed the principal and started down the hall.

  “Which classroom is Abby’s?” he asked.

  He and his brothers had attended Whitmore as kids, and he knew the place like the back of his hand.

  “Room 104,” Bren answered.

  And he was off! He passed Brennen and threaded himself through a line of older children walking down the hall before hopping over an errant backpack lying on the ground and locating room 104. He swung open the door and burst into the room.

  “Ahh!” came a loud shriek as something warm and gooey collided with his leg.

  “Stranger danger!” came a child’s voice, followed by a shot of liquid straight into his eye.

  “Jasper, what are you doing here?”

  He blinked and looked down to see Abby and her entire class staring at him. Directly in front of him stood a child with a cafeteria tray of what looked like tuna surprise—he still had nightmares about that Whitmore lunchtime staple—and a little girl holding a juice box like she wasn’t afraid to blast him with another stream of the sticky liquid.

  “The bad man got in my way, and I spilled on him!” said the child with what was left of the tuna surprise dangling off the tray.

  “It’s all right, Porter. He’s not a bad man or a stranger. His name is Mr. Bergen,” Abby said, reassuringly.

  “Like Brennen Bergen?” the boy asked.

  “Yes,” Abby answered.

  The girl with the juice box perked up. “Does this guy want to marry you, too?”

  Jasper looked down at the little girl. “No, I want to marry your teacher’s cousin.”

  Abby grinned. “You do?”

  “More than anything, but I need to find her. I need to apologize,” he said, then removed a chunk of tuna from his pants and set it on the boy’s tray.

  Brennen entered the room. “Jasper, what’s wrong with you? You almost took out a kid racing down the hall!”

  Abby turned to Brennen. “Jas says he wants to marry Elle.”

  “Yeah, we’re trying to find her. Do you know where she is?”

  Abby nodded. “Hold on! I need to have the children put away their lunches. We ate in the classroom today to get a little extra practice time before our poetry reading.”

  Jasper shifted his weight from foot to foot, nervous energy surging through him.

  Another child tugged on his pant leg. “If you need to pee, the bathroom pass is next to Miss Quinn’s desk.”

  He glanced at the kid. He didn’t have time for bathroom questions or lunchtime cleanup. “Abby, we can’t wait! I need to find Elle. I can’t let any more time pass.”

  Abby nodded as she guided a child with a tray toward the garbage can. “Okay, she’s skydiving at a place called Buddha Jump somewhere near Boulder, Colorado.”

  His jaw dropped. “She’s what?”

  “Hey, mister!” came a little voice. “Why do you smell so funny?”

  He looked down to find a child staring at his food-stained clothing. “Because I’m covered in egg and tuna surprise.”

  Abby glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m sorry, but it’s time for me to bring the children to the auditorium. That’s all I know. Elle should be there now.” She narrowed her gaze. “Are you okay, Jasper? You look a little disheveled.”

  “Yeah, Jas! What happened?” Bren asked, looking at the remnants of tuna surprise flaking off his trousers.

  He didn’t have time to worry about being covered in egg and tuna—not to mention the red splotches of fruit punch now dotting his dress shirt from the pint-sized Capri Sun sharpshooter. He pulled his phone from his pocket and searched for Buddha Jump Skydiving.

  “Got it! I found the place. Let’s go!”

  He whipped around and—bam—smacked into another tray.

  “My goulash! My grandma made that for me!” a girl cried.

  Jasper brushed the chunks of stew off his leg. “Sorry, kid! At least you didn’t have to eat the tuna surprise.”

  Covered in egg, tuna, and now—fucking goulash—he ran down the hall and skirted past the parents trickling inside the building. He looked over his shoulder. Good, Brennen was only a few yards behind. He dialed up his pace, reached the Mercedes, and went to the driver’s side.

  “Throw me the keys, Bren.”

  “There’s no flipping way I’m letting you drive! I don’t even know if I want you in my car.”

  “Come on, Bren. I’m pulling rank. Big brother. CEO. I won the last thumb war we had twenty-five years ago. Hand the keys over.”

  “I was only five!” Brennen protested.

  “Still counts,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Flip!” his brother groaned, then tossed him the keys.

  Jasper threw him his phone. “You’re the navigator. I’ve got the skydiving place entered in on the GPS.”

  In a stunt that would have put the Fast and the Furious drivers to shame, Jasper peeled out of the school’s parking lot and headed toward the highway, his mind racing. Why the hell would she be skydiving? That couldn’t be safe for a pregnant woman! It barely passed as safe for anyone not pregnant.

  “Do you have a plan? You�
�re awfully quiet over there,” Bren asked.

  Plan.

  Shit!

  The only plan he had was making Elle see that he was the only man for her and that she was the only woman for him. He glanced at her hat and the plush bears on the dash. That’s what he had to work with. It had to be enough.

  He glanced at Brennen. “No, I don’t have a plan.”

  His brother set the eggs next to his feet and frowned. “You don’t have a plan? The guy who follows a daily schedule like a Navy Seal doesn’t have a plan when it’s finally time to try and get the girl?”

  Jasper chuckled and shook his head. “No, I think I’ve got to wing it.”

  Bren laughed.

  “What?”

  “I think wings are the only thing you don’t have all over your pants.”

  Jasper turned on the blinker. “It’s too late to worry about that. We’re here.”

  19

  Elle

  Elle climbed into the back of the prop plane and secured her bag to a hook. “All right, Lloyd, tell me how you went from studying at a Buddhist monastery in the Himalayas to running your own skydiving business in Colorado.”

  She pulled her notebook and pen from her bag, careful not to let Dean Largecox fall out, and smiled at a man in a tie-dye shirt with gentle eyes who seemed more suited to be boarding a vintage Volkswagen bus covered in peace signs rather than jumping from an airplane.

  But this was good. Work was good. She’d been given the okay to fly by her obstetrician, scheduled the rest of her prenatal appointments, and driven straight to Buddha Jump from the doctor’s office. After the morning she’d had, she was happy to throw herself into the life of a gangly fifty-something ex-monk who enjoyed free falling from ten thousand feet up.

  Lloyd set his gear on the floor and sat next to her on the bench. “I’m from Denver originally, and when I was younger, everything was a rat race. Everyone around me was focused on getting more. More money. More status. More things. But nobody seemed happy. That’s when I found Buddhism and decided to give away all of my possessions. This world is so focused on material things. I needed to leave it all behind and follow the path of mindfulness that didn’t revolve around dollar signs.”