Four Weddings and a Werewolf (Entangled Covet)

by Miller, Kristin

  “We can do that.” Pastor Bennett smiled. “Would you like to be Leah for the night?”

  She shook her head. “The maid of honor and best man should stand in.”

  …

  Veronica shot Heather a dirty look. She was an excellent assistant, but her meddling was getting extreme. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Logan wouldn’t be up for it anyway. He hates weddings. It’d freak him out.”

  But he’d already stepped into place.

  She frowned. “What are you doing?”

  He held out his hand. And damn it, he looked sincere with his puppy dog eyes.

  “This isn’t necessary for—” Patrick began, but the sound in Veronica’s ears went fuzzy as her feet moved forward of their own accord.

  She took Logan’s hand, feeling that spark that was always there when she touched him.

  “Dearly beloved, we’re here to join Leah and Jake in holy matrimony, and this is the part when I go into detail about what marriage means…” Patrick looked between them, not meeting either of their gazes. “There’s a candle they’ll light…”

  His voice zoned out and Veronica gazed up into Logan’s eyes. They were softer than she’d ever seen them. He was looking at her almost like…like he wanted to be standing here with her. But that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t see himself settling down with anyone.

  “Then we’ll have the vows,” Patrick said. “Leah and Jake wrote their own. Since we don’t know what they are going to say, we’ll skip right over that part.”

  Logan opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t have to speak a single word. He squeezed Veronica’s hand and brushed his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles. His lips twitched and his gray eyes softened. She remembered Logan in wolf form, and the way those same eyes had pierced her then.

  He really was the same, wasn’t he?

  Whether he was covered in fur or skin, Logan was Logan. Why was that so far-fetched to believe? Her sister had shifted countless times since she first transitioned—though Veronica had never seen it happen firsthand—and Leah was still Leah. She had the same goofy laugh, the same demanding nature. Leah simply had strange shifting abilities added on to those things.

  She was falling for Logan before, that much was clear…but falling for a werewolf?

  What would that even mean? Would she have to turn into one like her sister so that she could live with him as long as he lived? She shuddered at the thought of herself in wolf form. The amount of hair that would clog the drain when she showered would be unmanageable! She shed a ton as it was. Add a couple pounds of dog hair and she’d have to invest in Drano. And what did wolves eat? Where did they go during the full moon?

  Logan squeezed her hand again and smiled, as if he could see the wheels in her brain turning.

  Veronica smiled back and suppressed a whimper when something in her chest cracked like an ice sheet. Warmth spread beneath her skin, and her lungs filled with deep, glorious breaths of air.

  Heavens above, she could breathe again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Veronica drove back to Hotel Monaco after the rehearsal, watching the headlights of Logan’s truck follow her from the Starlight Tower. Turn after turn, he was there, ever present. She couldn’t get him out of her head, and after seeing the way he gazed at her at the rehearsal, she realized he might be stuck in her heart, too. She turned into the self-parking garage, craning her neck around to see where he parked.

  Directly across from the hotel.

  She pulled into the first spot on her left and got out of the car. Instead of skirting to her room as quickly as possible so she wouldn’t be seen, she strolled across the street. Before she reached the driver’s door, Logan rolled down the window.

  “What are you doing?” he said. “It’s cold. Come on, I’ll take you inside.”

  She couldn’t go into the hotel where she’d have to tell him good-night and watch him walk away from her. Again. It didn’t feel right.

  “Can I get in for a minute?”

  There were things they needed to talk about.

  His lips parted as if he was going to argue. She stormed around the hood of the truck as he killed the engine and pushed open the passenger door. She hopped in and stared straight forward, searching for the right words.

  “Did you see something?” he asked, rolling up the window before turning to her.

  “What?”

  “On the drive over? Did you see something that spooked you?”

  “No.” She shook her head and brushed her hands together for warmth. “I didn’t see anything. Only you.”

  She never failed to spot Logan. Her eyes were drawn to him when he was near.

  “I’m confused here, Veronica,” he said, turning the key to allow heat to flow from the vents. “You’re not acting like yourself. Everything all right?”

  “Yes.” Her thoughts rattled. “No.”

  “Want to shed some light?”

  She glanced over at him. His eyebrows were raised in confusion. His eyes harbored a tired shadow. She yearned to slide across the seat and cuddle up to him, to brush her hand over his cheek and fall asleep in his arms. It didn’t matter if they were in the comfiest bed in Hotel Monaco or the lumpy bed of his truck.

  She wanted to be by his side.

  “Where do we stand?” she pushed out in a single breath.

  “I was hoping we could be close.” He cleared his throat as a light sheet of rain started to drizzle on the windshield. “Friends, if you could get over your hatred of my kind.”

  Veronica went cold despite the heat flowing into the cab. “Friends. Yeah. That would be great.”

  Super-duper. He’s spoken the relationship-killing word. If she told him what she was feeling, maybe it didn’t have to be that way. If he knew that her hatred had waned, and that she was thinking about giving him a chance—was she crazy to be doing this?—it could change things.

  Reality smacked her upside the head. Spewing her feelings wouldn’t change anything.

  Logan didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want anything long-term.

  “You told me what you wanted from the beginning,” she said, almost to herself. “You were clear about your intention.”

  “Veronica, I—”

  Logan leaned over, reaching out for her knee, but she flinched. One touch and she’d probably tell him everything. When they stood in front of Patrick, she’d glimpsed a future she never knew she wanted. She had the fleeting thought that they could be something great.

  She’d be a fool to express her feelings to someone who didn’t share them. Not to the same extent, anyway.

  Logan leaned back against the door, as far away as he could get. It was bizarre, but the bench seat seemed to lengthen, stretching them farther apart.

  “When you left the bakery the other night, you seemed pretty damn upset,” he said. “You were eager to dish up dirt on me at the tasting, and edgy at the rehearsal. Now all of a sudden, you hop into my truck and ask where we stand? Why don’t you tell me, since I can’t crawl into that head of yours?”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes, so she studied tiny raindrops sprinkling over the glass. “I wonder how far we would’ve gone if I never found out you were a wolf.”

  “Not far. No one can live a lie.”

  Damn it, he was right.

  A few weeks ago, there was no way she would’ve contemplated a relationship with a werewolf. Logan felt the same about being trapped in a marriage. Even if she’d been caught up in the moment and witnessed a hint of promise sparking in his eyes at the altar, she couldn’t change what he wanted out of life. Ending things now, though surprisingly painful, would save her a massive heartbreak later when things got too serious for him.

  “I think I was right to keep you at a distance,” she said.

  He half laughed. “If that’s the way you feel, what are you doing in my truck?”

  God, she didn’t know. She’d wanted to talk, to figure things out, to salvage…something
.

  But she’d insulted him away from the moment she found out who he was. When she discovered his wolf genes, she’d nearly closed him out completely.

  He wanted something light. Who could blame him after she’d treated him so horribly?

  She’d been completely wrong about him. He wasn’t easy to anger; he was passionate. He was also hardworking, loyal, kindhearted, witty, and protective in the sexiest way. He was perfect.

  And she’d pushed him too far.

  Friends.

  “See you at the wedding,” she said, and slid out of the truck. She ran across the street, her throat burning with tears.

  She’d just driven away the only man she never knew she always wanted.

  Chapter Twenty

  Veronica held her hand out over the manicurist’s table and watched the woman paint her nails a shimmering shade of red. Each of the bridesmaids had their turn to get pedicures and manicures, and Veronica had volunteered to go last. As the manicurist started on the topcoat, Veronica craned her neck around and peered at her sister, who was busy getting her hair pinned up into tons of tiny twists.

  “How was the tour?” Veronica asked, glancing out the window at the Wolf Pack bodyguards Logan had assigned to watch over her. He had to perform typical best man duties and couldn’t escort Veronica around himself, so it appeared that he’d called in the largest, most lethal packmates they had on staff. “You haven’t talked about it much.”

  “It was good. Long. Tiring.” Leah stared at herself in the mirror and slowly turned her neck this way and that to peek at what the stylist was doing. “Make sure there are enough pins,” she said. “I don’t want those twists falling out.”

  “Don’t worry.” The hairstylist put in two more pins and shoved another two in her mouth to ready them for the next twist. “Your hair won’t go anywhere.”

  “Good.” Leah turned her dark eyes on Veronica. They looked so much like their mother’s: droopy, hooded eyes with naturally thick fans of inky-black lashes. “I don’t want to talk about my tour. I want to talk about you and Logan. What’s going on between the two of you?”

  Taking her gaze off the guards pacing out front, Veronica swiveled her chair around and kept her hands in position. “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re a sucky liar.” Leah squinted her eyes and pursed her mouth. “Spill it.”

  “I like him,” Veronica blurted, “even though I shouldn’t.”

  “Holy shit, V! How’d that happen? You hate his…relatives.”

  “I know, I know. I tried not to like him, but he was like a fungus that came out of nowhere, wouldn’t go away, and the next thing I know, he grew on me.”

  Leah laughed from her belly, making the plastic leopard-print apron covering her body shake. “You’re not supposed to compare the guy you like to a fungus. It’s a good thing you’re not a writer.”

  “You know what I mean,” Veronica said. “I tried not to like him, I really tried. If I knew what was good for me, I’d forget I ever met him.”

  “Here’s some advice.” Leah leaned forward, taking the hairstylist’s fingers with her. “If you have to try not to like someone, and it still doesn’t work, that’s a pretty clear sign that you more than like him. You’re in love.”

  “I’m not…”

  But Veronica couldn’t finish her sentence. Did she love Logan? She couldn’t stop thinking of those light-gray eyes. That chiseled body. Those broad shoulders and strong arms that could swoop her up and protect her. At first, when he’d shadowed her to every appointment, she’d been seriously annoyed. Somehow, along the way, she’d started to like him being there with her. She’d had fun and loosened up with him, even when she was making his life hell. When he said he wanted to protect her, all she could think about was how she’d wanted to take care of him.

  But he didn’t want to be with her. Not in the same way.

  Even if he did, how would they blend their lives together? They were from two completely different worlds.

  “Leah, can I ask you something personal, without you giving your opinion on what you think I should do?”

  She smiled, her thin lips pulling back wide. “Sure.”

  Totally not happening.

  “Every month, when you take that trip with Jake’s family to the mountains…” Damn, she had to be really careful how she worded this. The bridesmaids weren’t listening to their conversation, but the lounge area wasn’t far away and voices echoed in the salon. She still had to worry about the stylist though, who looked as though she was hanging on every word. “Do you feel like yourself? Or do you feel…different? Sick and stuff,” she threw in for listening ears.

  Leah sighed. “You guys have progressed that far already?”

  “No, but isn’t that something you had to think about before you stepped into a relationship with Jake?”

  “It’s something you should think about, yes, but our situation was different.”

  As the manicurist lifted Veronica’s hands and placed them beneath the drying light, Leah spoke up. “Ladies, would you mind giving us some privacy? Just a few minutes?”

  The stylist and manicurist collected a few of their things and left the room quietly, securing the door behind them.

  “Okay, how do I say this,” Leah said, keeping her head still so her tower of unpinned hair wouldn’t topple. “At first, I felt really…off. I was depressed and dealing with the effects of the attack. But when I took off to the mountains every month with Jake’s family, and then with him alone, I started to come to grips with my new situation. It was like, once I accepted the hand that I’d been dealt wholeheartedly, everything came easily. I fell in love with Jake, started getting book ideas, and the rest is history.”

  “I didn’t know you were depressed.” Veronica spun around, facing Leah’s chair. But Leah still wouldn’t look at her—wedding hair must’ve been serious business. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to bother you. You were already dealing with a lot, coming to grips with what happened.”

  “I wasn’t going through nearly as much as you were.”

  Leah finally met Veronica’s gaze. “I love you, V, and I wanted you to still love me, too. I didn’t want you worried about my depression or the changes I was going through. I needed you to accept what I came to accept through Jake’s love.”

  “I think I needed to accept it on my own.”

  With a little help from Logan.

  “Does Logan have any leads on the stalker?” Leah asked, as if she knew Veronica’s thoughts had veered back to him.

  Veronica shook her head. “He picked up his scent. Said it was unique.” She steeled herself for the hardest question of all. “If you had the choice…if the attack hadn’t happened…would you have chosen…you know?”

  Leah’s whole face lit up. Her skin glowed with radiant happiness. “If I met Jake, knew without a doubt that he was the one for me, and he asked me to marry him…yes. I wouldn’t care if he was a wolf, bear, jaguar, vampire, or zombie. I’d love him just the same.”

  “A zombie? Bet that’d make the sex sounds interesting.”

  They laughed, and the tension released from Veronica’s shoulders. She threw her arms around Leah’s neck, careful not to brush her with her tacky nails.

  “Whoa, whoa, watch the hair!” Leah put her hands up as if she could guard it from the attack.

  “I love you so much,” Veronica said, squeezing her tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Leah wrapped her arms around Veronica’s back and gave her a loving rub. “I love you, too, but you really have to watch my hair or you’ll make me late to my wedding. I hear this really kick-ass wedding planner set up one hell of a party.”

  “We’ll see.”

  As the stylist returned to the room, she slid the veil’s comb into place, cementing Leah as the most stunning bride in history.

  The bridal party left the shop and slid into the limo ahead of schedule. Veronica glanced back at th
e men following them and repressed a sigh. The Seattle Wolf Pack dynamic was very appealing, she couldn’t deny it. For a short time, she’d felt like part of a family. Special. Someone cared enough to make sure she was all right, even when she went to the salon. They really did fight—and care—for one another.

  It was too bad she’d always be on the outside looking in.

  Their limo pulled into the underground parking of the Starlight Tower Club. The girls practically ran to the elevators, and when they entered the bridal suite, laughing and giddy from excitement, Leah gasped.

  “What’s this?” she asked, pointing at her wedding dress hanging from the bathroom doorjamb. “Tell me it’s not—”

  “Your dress.” Veronica jumped into action, taking the dress off the door and examining every inch of it. It was gorgeous. Pristine. Exactly how it’d been in the store. “What are you seeing? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s beautiful.” Leah folded arms and tapped her foot. “But it’s not my dress.”

  Veronica froze, mortified. “What are you talking about? This is the dress they had under your name at Bridal Beat.”

  “Nope. Not mine. I think I’d remember.” Her normally sweet voice went shrill. “Someone call Bridal Beat and get the right dress here now.”

  All six bridesmaids swept out of the suite. They could probably feel the storm brewing.

  “Calm down, Leah, I can fix this.”

  “Fix this, how? I tried on mermaid styles and they made my hips look enormous. I’m going to be a cow at my wedding!” She plopped on the edge of the bed and threw herself back. “I knew something was going to happen, I knew it. Nothing could be this perfect for this long.” She took three deep breaths, then laughed nervously. Like a serial killer about to snap. “You’re always so good at taking care of everything! How could this happen?”

  Veronica eyed the dream dress she’d tried on in the store. “Maybe there are two Leah Vales. Maybe the lady working the front was new. I have no idea. But if they can’t get your dress in before the wedding, you can get married in this one. I’m sure it’s just as pretty.”