Take It Off the Menu
Christina Hovland
Contents
Praise for Christina Hovland
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Christina Hovland
About the Author
Going Down on One Knee, Chapter One
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright 2019 by Christina Hovland. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
For rights information, please contact:
Prospect Agency
551 Valley Road, PMB 377
Upper Montclair, NJ 07043
(718) 788-3217
Holly Ingraham, Development Editor
Tamara Beard of Wrapped Up in Writing, Copy Editor & Proofreader
Shasta Schafer, Final Proofreader
First Edition August 2019
I’d like to dedicate this book to all of the English Lit teachers who shaped my journey to become a published author.
Thank you.
Praise for Christina Hovland
Going Down on One Knee
“Humor, witty dialogue, delightfully crafted characters, and a unique premise combine to make Going Down on One Knee a treasure!” — InD’tale Magazine
“An utterly charming opposites-attract-story. Hovland perfectly balances simmering sexual tension with a surprising amount of emotion, and the stomach-flip-causing ending is the perfect example of why I read and love romance.”
- New York Times Bestselling Author, Lauren Layne
"I wasn't expecting to laugh as much as I did. ... Anyone looking for a light, funny story will find it here in Christina Hovland's Going Down on One Knee." - Romantically Inclined Reviews
"If you are a fan of opposites attract stories that make you laugh one minute, and swoon the next, you'll not go wrong with one of her books. Well done, Christina Hovland! Very, very well done." - The Reading Cafe Reviews
"A delightful blend of witty humor and romance!" - Jenn (YeahOrNeighReviews)
"Brek and Velma. He exudes tranquility. She exudes tension. The chemistry between them is palpable without being forced." - Avidez Literary
"This is so much more than a romance novel. It literally describes how life is. You have to let go to find yourself. " - Reckless Readers
Blow Me Away
“Blow Me Away is the perfect beach read: low on angst, high on humor and good-hearted.” — Reedsy Discovery
"I don't know the best way to describe this book or these characters in a way that will do them justice. Just read the book and enjoy the madness!!" - Nerdy Dirty & Flirty Book Blog
"Oh. My. Word. Blow Me Away was an absolute blast! I seriously loved every second of it." - Anna's Herding Cats Book Reviews
"A hilarious romantic comedy with colorful characters, a witty banter and sparkling wit!"- Aaly & The Books
"I have not had that much fun reading in a long time." - Read.Review.Repeat Blog
The Honeymoon Trap
"The Honeymoon Trap is adorable, clever, funny—in short, completely charming." - Serena Bell, USA Today bestselling author of Do Over
Chapter One
Two Days Before the Wedding
“Lothario, stop humping the angora,” Marlee Medford—soon-to-be Bishop—stepped onto the patio of her Denver townhome. Her pure-white-haired chihuahua tipped his head to the side, stopped humping her fiancé’s angora sweater that had fallen to the ground, and whined.
Leaves from their two aspen trees rustled beside her—red and orange and ready to break free from their branches in preparation for winter.
She snatched the sweater, brushed a couple of fallen leaves from the sleeve, and hung it over the arm of the empty chair next to Scotty. He was immersed in his phone, apparently oblivious to the defiling of his clothes.
Lothario had a thing for Scotty’s shirts, and it drove Scotty absolutely nuts. Aside from Scotty’s clothing, Lothario literally humped anything that moved. Except Marlee. She’d put a stop to that early on. One would’ve thought that Lothario’s recent unfortunate experience with a moving bicycle tire would’ve stopped the behavior, but all it got him was a cast on his right leg and a rededication to defiling all things.
She turned her focus from the dog to Scotty. He had his serious face on that morning.
“Hey, sweetie.” She squeezed his shoulders and kissed his cheek before sitting next to him with her morning coffee. “I’ve only got a second. I have a bajillion things to do today for the wedding.”
Their wedding.
Their forty-eight-hours-away nuptials.
“Leelee.” He set his phone down beside his coffee mug. “We need to talk about the wedding.”
“Okay.” She squeezed his hands. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want to do it.” He glanced to the side, not meeting her eyes.
That wasn’t exactly a choice anymore. Not with four hundred of their closest friends coming to Denver for their wedding.
“We’re not getting married, Leelee.” He heaved a huge breath. “I’m sorry.”
She dropped his hands. What?
“We’re not getting married?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”
He was sorry? He was sorry?
Marlee’s stomach dropped.
“It’s been this way for a while.” Scotty’s eyes were kind as he spoke. “I’ve been thinking we should take a break, but with the wedding planning and your dad, I figured we’d see it through.” He sighed. “It was the wrong decision.”
He’d asked her to sit on their patio with him and have a cup of morning coffee so he could end their relationship? What. The. Hell?
No. This was just cold feet. They’d get through it.
“I know we haven’t exactly been connecting lately, but that’s totally normal. We’re in a committed, long-term relationship. It’s not supposed to be exciting,” Marlee said. It’s not like she hadn’t noticed the lack of spark. “We’re just supposed to stick with it, so we have someone to grow old with, right?”
They’d settled into a routine with each other that was just about as comfortable as lukewarm bathwater. Not awful. Definitely not great. Once they were married, things would heat up again. They’d get back to Jacuzzi level.
“I don’t just want someone to grow old with.” Scotty gulped. “I want someone who lights a fire inside of me. Like we used to do for each other.”
“Look, if you want a fire, I can try to
cook something.” Marlee was the queen of burning the shit out of anything she tried to make.
He chuckled. Then his expression broke. “I think we should stop now, while we still like each other. Not wait until we can’t stand to be in the same room together.”
While she waited for her heart to break, she focused on the milky brown liquid in her mug. Her best friends had flown in from all over the country. Her family owned two of Denver’s most prized sports teams, so the wedding had even made headlines in the Denver Post. The breakup would undoubtedly be devastatingly public. The panic she felt wasn’t from all that, though. She felt like she’d been dropped out of a plane but landed on a mountain of soft pillows. What she was feeling was…relief. Relief that was starting to make her panic. And that didn’t even make any sense.
“Marlee?” Scotty kept his focus on her. “Say something.”
Her gaze caught Lothario pulling Scotty’s sweater off the chair again. “Seriously, stop having sex with Scotty’s sweater.”
“That’s not what I wanted you to say.” Scotty rubbed his forehead.
“What do you want me to say?” Marlee asked. “It’s fine?”
“Just say what you’re feeling.”
Staring at him, she really tried to see the man she’d fallen in love with. But that man was gone—he had been for a while—and she wasn’t the woman he’d fallen in love with, either.
She opened her mouth to speak. Then she closed it again.
How was she supposed to be done with the guy who had been there for her since she was twenty? They’d spent a decade together. A decent decade. There were good parts to that decade.
“Scotty, I…”
Her throat started to close up, her chest went tight—and not from an asthma attack. No. This was the panic portion of their breakup.
“You said you loved me more,” she said on a breath. Just last night, he’d said that very thing.
He dropped his gaze to the table, not responding.
They sat together in the silence of their broken relationship.
“I meant it. I just don’t think you love me very much anymore, either,” he finally said.
No, not really, but she figured they’d get back to that. She’d figured that’s what a relationship was—two people who fell in and out of love over and over again. They just hadn’t gotten around to falling back in love yet.
Marlee couldn’t draw a breath. Four hundred guests to notify. The task would be mammoth. She had to call her wedding planner ASAP. Her lungs had seemingly collapsed against her ribs, the pillows of relief deflating to spikes of holy shit.
Keep it together, Marlee.
“You want a relationship break, or you want to move on?” she asked. Clarification at this point was a good thing.
A relationship break would be like twenty-four hours, and then they’d still have a wedding. The moving on? Totally different. Besides, wasn’t a break just something people said to ease the bandage from the wound of an eventual breakup?
A vein in his forehead pulsed. It always did when he was agitated. Which she did not understand at all at the moment, given that he was the one messing everything up.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
“This isn’t a break,” she said. Scotty was way too decisive for that. “You’re ending us.”
It wasn’t a question, because she knew the answer.
“Yes.” The word hung in the air around Scotty’s lips.
“Seriously, Lothario, leave the sweater alone,” she said firmly. The dog clearly had no idea her life was in a free fall and it was not the time to have a fling with angora. He was getting more action during her breakup than she’d had in weeks.
There seemed to be no feeling in her body. She couldn’t get her limbs to move. Her lips were numb. Her fingertips had no feeling.
This was happening.
What was she going to do about all the filet mignon they’d already purchased for the reception? The cake she’d picked out? The final hair trial with her stylist scheduled for that afternoon? She glanced toward the French doors of their townhome, itching to get inside and start making the calls that needed to happen. And what did that say about the state of their relationship?
“There are four hundred people coming.” She leaned forward, pressing her palms against the glass-topped patio table. “You didn’t think to tell me this yesterday? Or last week? Or last month? Or whenever it hit you that you didn’t want to spend forever with me?” She stabbed her finger at her own chest.
“It’s not that cut and dry.” Scotty fidgeted with his mug. “I had to get my own feelings straight.” He shook his head, then quickly added, “But there’s not anyone else, I promise.”
She stared at him like he’d shown up to their wedding in Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.
Of course, there was no one else. They worked together, lived together, exercised together—okay, he hit the weights, she scrolled through her phone while she walked on the treadmill. In any case, duh, he didn’t have someone else. He wouldn’t have time for that.
“I’m sorry, Leelee.” He studied his coffee. “So sorry. I think we’ve both been feeling a little lost in the relationship for a while now,” Scotty continued like he needed to keep explaining something that really didn’t need explaining. “I know you feel it, too.”
He wasn’t wrong—the little flare that had started their fling dimmed way past the ember stage years after they’d entered full-blown relationship status. But then he’d proposed. And they’d—she’d—planned an elaborate wedding. Scotty worked with her father. Her father who would not be happy about the amount of cash he’d already poured into Denver society’s event of the season.
“What are you going to do for a job?” Marlee asked as gently as she could. It’s not like Scotty could keep working for her father after they split. She’d gotten him the job as vice president of operations and personally worked as director of events in the office. It’d be way too awkward for them to continue working there together. He’d have to sort out his job, and they’d have to figure out what to do with the townhome they’d purchased together. The logistics were starting to tug at a migraine brewing behind her eyes.
Scotty gave her his what-are-you-talking-about look. “I’ll still work for your dad.”
For a really smart guy, Scotty was being very dense.
“Even after we break up?” she asked.
“Yeah, Marlee, it’s my job.”
No, that wouldn’t work. It was the job he got because he was with her. “But I work there.”
“And?”
“And we won’t be a couple. I don’t think Dad will be okay with—”
“He’s fine. We discussed it yesterday.”
Wait. What?
There was that free fall feeling again.
“You told him we were breaking up before you told me?” Her cheeks heated, but not with embarrassment. “You knew you were ending things yesterday? And you didn’t mention it?”
“Leelee.” Scotty used that tone that never failed to piss her off. “He’s my boss. He’s my friend. Of course, I talked with him.”
Her blood pounded through her heart, echoing in her eardrums. “You told him before you told me? And if he’d have said you couldn’t keep the job, would we be getting married?”
She’d never have known.
Scotty pinched his lips into a flat line.
So that’s how it was. This was all amicable, but if Dad would have said no, then Marlee would be getting married to a guy who didn’t really love her.
The moral of this story? Never trust someone who says they love you more.
“You and I… We haven’t connected in a while,” Scotty said again.
She was sad, too. Sad that she understood about the not connecting. Their lives were more than intertwined, but their hearts? Once upon a time, they had been. Lately? Not so much.
Maybe that’s why the breakup didn’t burn the way it should’ve. The w
ound had broken open and healed long ago.
“You’re right. We haven’t connected lately,” she finally said.
They hadn’t. And she’d tried. Tried hard to catch his attention the way she used to, but after so much time together, things just… They just felt like one of those drums that you strike with the top of your palm. So, instead of a good tap, the sound was more of a thud.
She blew a breath into her cheeks. Scotty hated when she did that—it annoyed the ever-loving snot out of him. But what Scotty thought didn’t matter anymore. The breath escaped her lips slowly.
“When are you leaving?” she asked. Wasn’t that the way this worked? The one who called it off was the one to leave?
“I’m not leaving. We’ll sort through the logistics together. No need to rush.”
Okay, so she would be the one leaving. At least for now, until she could figure out the legalities of homeownership after a breakup.
“I’ll start making calls to cancel the ceremony and reception.” She paused, waiting for that feeling of dread to take over like it should. A relationship was dying, but all she could think about was what she should do about the food that had been purchased.
“I’m sorry.” His forehead relaxed, and he stared at his reflection in the table.
Her chair scraped against the concrete patio as she pushed from the table. “Me, too.”
Take It Off the Menu: A sizzling, accidentally married rom com! (Mile High Matched, Book 3) (A Mile High Matched Novel) Page 1
