by D. A. Young
They stood there for a moment, neither man rushing to fill the silence as they surveyed the still sleeping town. Holt didn’t know too much about Tuck, but he knew that Darby and Kat trusted him explicitly and that was enough for him. It was the same for Tuck. He’d seen the big man around but never had an urge to strike up a conversation or find a common denominator to do so. Now they had two. Despite his laidback, easygoing manner, there was something about Brammer that contradicted his demeanor. His eyes were too alert. For a man of his size, he moved fast, hardly making a sound. Tuck noticed that at the tree farm when he dragged Kat off. His pain-in-the-ass best friend’s boots crunched the snow underneath her heels. However, Brammer might as well have been floating.
It was Tuck who broke the silence and offered Holt his free hand. “Congratulations on your engagement. I know it seems as if we’re ready to rip out each other’s throats, but Kat’s the best and deserves the best.”
Holt acknowledged the thinly veiled warning with a nod and shook Tuck’s hand. “Thanks and you’re right about Kat. I wanted you to know that I’m headin’ out of town for a couple of days, and she’s gonna stay at the cabin.”
“I’ll swing by discreetly. She catches wind that I’m checkin’ up on her, and Kat will be mad enough that I’ll somehow wind up sleepin’ on the sofa instead of next to my wife. And I really like sleepin’ with my wife, Brammer.”
Holt grinned at that confession. “I appreciate that. I’m sure her brothers will do the same. I just want to make sure she’s well-looked after.”
Tuck took a gulp of his coffee as he came to the conclusion that Holt had no idea of Kat’s background training. Interesting. The iron princess had put down her boxing gloves for the Swede. It made Tuck curious as hell to know why.
Chapter Seventeen
“Well, if it isn’t the bride-to-be!” Vivienne announced dramatically when she threw the front door open and pulled Kat into the foyer. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed her tight, rocking side-to-side. “It feels like ages since we last saw each other! I almost forgot what your cute face looked like.”
She was already dressed for the day in cigarette-style, black trousers, a wraparound nude blouse with black polka-dots and billowing sleeves, and black pumps. Her face had the “no makeup” look, and her voluminous waves were held off her head by a thin black headband to showcase her four-carat diamond studs.
Kat’s response was muffled against her mother’s bosom. “Considering it’s your face, too, I doubt it, Mama.” She pulled back with a smile. “Good morning, beautiful. Don’t you look fancy! Why are you all dressed up this early?”
“The better question is why you think running around in your man’s oversized clothing is a good look, Katerina,” Vivienne sniffed, frowning at the denim shirt Kat was drowning in. She’d paired it with gray sweats and brown Ugg boots. “Your outfit screams that you’ve reached the sunken place! All that’s missing is a sign in your hand that reads, ‘I Lost My Damn Mind and Home Training. In Dire Need of Fashion Advice’.”
“Says the ‘sophistaratchet’ Peg Bundy,” Kat shot back, blowing her mother a kiss.
“I bet you won’t be singing that tune when your father comes down for breakfast in ten minutes and gets a look at you. And is that beard burn on your neck??” Vivienne cackled as Kat made a beeline for the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Damn girl! What are those? Nike-Uggs?”
A short while later, Kat joined her parents at the dining room table, respectably dressed in a black cashmere turtleneck sweater, wide-leg, forest-green corduroy culottes, and black platform Mary Janes. Around her neck was a Vixen original, sterling-silver obelisk pendant.
“Katya! What a nice surprise!” Alexei exclaimed, rising to his feet and pulling his daughter’s chair out. He’d been going out of his mind thinking about Kat and then trying not to think of what she and Brammer could possibly be doing. Alexei’s ears were still ringing from Vivienne’s laughter when he suggested, with a hopeful expression, that the young couple were sleeping in separate rooms and attending twenty-four-hour Bible study.
“Good morning, Papa!” Kat gave him a sunny smile and a fierce hug. Vivienne snorted when Alexei clung to their daughter tighter than Rose’s selfish ass with that piece of wood in “Titanic”. She could practically hear the flute strains to “My Heart Will Go On” playing as he moped around the house these last few days. Not even the children’s visit could entirely restore his good mood.
“You have been sorely missed! The house wasn’t the same. I’ve been dying of boredom without you around! How are you doing?” Alexei rambled on.
Vivienne paused in the middle of cutting into her spinach, bacon, and mushroom omelet to slant her eyes at her oblivious husband. He was micro-inspecting Kat so intently that she expected him to predict her future. “Really, Lex? You are unbelievable! Dying of boredom??”
Alexei had the good grace to be embarrassed and pressed an apologetic kiss to the side of his offended wife’s forehead and returned to his seat. “You know what I meant, Vivi.”
It was because she did know the agony he was going through that Vivienne let him slide, choosing to address Kat instead.
“Make sure you eat up, hon. You’re going to need your strength for what I have planned today.”
Kat swiped an oversized donut-glazed muffin from the pastry basket in the center of the table, eyeing her mother curiously as she peeled the liner back. “What’s going on today? Did we have plans? I intended to complete some orders and thought I could take you to lunch.”
Vivienne carefully placed her utensils down on her plate and laced her fingers. Vibrating with eagerness, she regarded her suddenly nervous daughter, gleefully.
Kat turned to her father with a questioning look. “What is she talking about?”
“I suggest you either run or buckle up,” Alexei whispered out of the corner of his mouth, refusing to meet her gaze as he cut into his steak Benedict and read the news from his tablet next to his plate. “For two days, I’ve been hearing about this nonstop craziness and refuse to be collateral damage a second longer. Sorry, my dear; you’re on your own.”
“Wow, Papa! That table turned real quick, huh?”
“Thank you, honey,” Vivienne cooed to her husband. “Chile, it has taken everything in me not to kidnap you since you announced your engagement! We have so much to accomplish in so little time! Three months will be here tomorrow!” she finished briskly.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. There was a muted conversation in the foyer followed by squeaking. The trio stared at the entryway now filled with the two roll racks of garment bags their butler and a maid rolled in. Apprehension filled Kat.
“Where shall we put these, Madam?”
“Oh goody!” Vivienne examined the nineteenth-century large French clock face hanging over the mantle and clapped her hands together approvingly. “You’re right on schedule! I was just telling my daughter that time was of the essence!”
The doorbell rang again, and this time, it was Elin that was escorted to the dining room. Kat blinked slowly, barely able to recognize her future mother-in-law. Her long, blonde tresses, usually in a ponytail or bun, was blown out and styled in loose waves, and she’d applied a smoky-eye and pale pink lipstick to her normally naked face. She wore a high, ruffled-neck, long-sleeved black dress that accentuated her trim figure, and on her feet, she wore knee-high black boots with a kitten heel.
“Hej, everyone! Sorry, I’m late!” she greeted them, moving around the table to greet Kat first. She enveloped her in a lingering hug and kissed her cheek. “Congratulations to you and Holton! Välkommen till familjen, dotter!”
“That sounds lovely, Elin. Now, what does that mean?” Vivienne asked with a proud smile for Kat.
“It means, ‘Welcome to the family, daughter’!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bra - Elin,” Kat amended, glowing with happiness and witnessing their joy and excitement.
“That’s right! We’re all one,
big, happy family now!” Vivienne cosigned, choosing to ignore her husband’s dismal groan in the background.
***
Stockholm, Sweden
The jet touched down on Bromma’s private airstrip in good time. After disembarking, Holt headed straight for his hotel and checked in. Wedged between Stockholm’s striking harbor and the charming capital city with its mix of old-world and modern, cosmopolitan architecture, the hotel overlooked the vibrant waterways. Historic and colorful, Stockholm was spread over fourteen islands and more than fifty bridges at the base of Lake Mälaren, the Archipelago consisting of thousands of islands blanketed with forests, rocky isles, and the Baltic Sea. In the city, nearby bodies of water were almost guaranteed, and Stockholm was one of many listed as a Venice of the North, due to its abundance of open water and canals.
Feeling restless, Holt decided to go for a stroll through Gamla Stan/Old Town, located less than fifteen minutes away from his hotel. Growing up, the heart of the city was always a favorite destination of his family’s. Surrounded by unique architecture and squares with cobbled streets, Old Town was a renowned attraction that boasted something for everyone with an impressive, eclectic mix of boutiques, bars, restaurants, as well as an array of museums, theaters, and galleries.
Stortorget, the main square in the middle of Gamla Stan, was home to Stockholm’s most popular Christmas market. The inviting aromas of nuts roasting, Glögg, and gingerbread permeated the air, reminding Holt of him and Kat’s first night together in the cabin. She would love shopping the numerous vendors’ stalls, he knew, and exploring the rowhouses and watching the live performances. There were activities for children, fairground rides, games, and contests. Not even the early sunsets would deter Kat’s good time. The seasonal change, from fall to winter, reduced daytime to less than six hours daily, leaving the Stockholm skyline draped in velvet ink. The city utilized the dramatic change to showcase the holiday lights and decorations, creating a festive and engaging experience.
Holt purchased handmade toys and knit caps for D.J., Ruby, and Baby Jack, as well as gifts for everyone else, and his father’s requested sweets, before heading back to the hotel. He stopped at the concierge’s station and arranged for the packages to be delivered to Jack’s house. Once in his room, Holt ordered room service and studied the layout surrounding the apartment that Magnus had emailed him. After he finished his meal, he placed a call to Kat.
“Hey, you! Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Kat breathlessly answered her phone. “Miss me yet?”
Holt snorted at her question. Just the husky sound of her voice sent a hum of pleasure through his body. “Like you have to ask, darlin’. Can’t sleep yet, though. I have business to attend to first.”
“This late at night? I’m intrigued. What’s up? Have you eaten?”
“I wanted to get a head start before jet lag set in,” he explained. “As a matter of fact, I just finished eatin’.”
“Mmm, let me guess: pickled herring topped with fresh dill, smoked salmon, cucumber slices, boiled butter potatoes, rye bread, and deviled eggs?”
Holt chuckled at the distaste dripping from her words and stared down at his empty plate. “You know me too well.”
“Damned straight. I also know you had a shot of chilled Aquavit with your unique meal.”
The spirit was mainly produced in Scandinavia and Germany. Like Vodka, it was an acquired taste best served cool and usually downed in one gulp. Holt had explained both the distillation and consumption process to Kat when he offered it to her to complement the pickled herring meal he’d served her on Valentine’s Day. They’d decided to share a little of their culture with each other by way of appetizers. It hadn’t gone very well as the offerings were an acquired taste, which Holt promptly reminded Kat.
“Respect the culture, love. You don’t see me bashing the creepy, squishy fish eggs you shoved down my throat.”
“Fish eggs?!” Kat sputtered, struggling to contain her laughter. “Boy, bye! You uncouth heathen! Beluga caviar and smoked salmon on blinis with creme fraiche and dill is a delicacy to be savored and appreciated! And you’re welcome for the cuisine upgrade because it sure beats the hell out of pickled fish! Bleh!”
“I vote we agree to disagree and say that the main course and dessert more than made up for our appetizers.”
“Bet,” Kat agreed, thinking of the smothered, chicken-stuffed ravioli and red velvet truffles with cream cheese centers. “They were definitely on point! Just dreaming about it is making me hungry. I’m going to recreate the meal for your homecoming, babe.”
Holt’s restlessness had dissipated upon hearing her voice, and he moved to the bed and stretched out on it. “Why were you huffin’ and puffin’ when you answered the phone?”
“Because I was rummaging through my closets trying to decide what to take back to the cabin.” She hesitated a moment, and Holt knew Kat was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I hope that’s okay?”
“More than okay, baby,” he said, unable to help the content smile that stole over his face. “Even if I prefer that you brought nothin’ and had to walk around naked as a jaybird. My only issue is that you said closets as in plural. I feel like my little bit of space is about to be eliminated.”
“This, coming from the guy who’s cornered the market on Levi’s and plaid shirts,” Kat retorted like she hadn’t been in said closet, sniffing at his clothing like a fucking bloodhound.
“Oh, you got jokes?”
“And if I say yes, what do you plan to do about it…Mr. Brammer?” she purred, sending a direct jolt of lust to his dick.
“Damn you, woman…” Holt shifted his hard-on to a more manageable position. “You seriously have no chill whatsoever! Do not start this shit with me while I’m over four-thousand miles away!”
“Then let’s make a deal. I’ll behave myself for now if you stay focused and careful out there, Holt,” Kat said seriously, all joking aside. “I’m trusting you to come back to me alive and unharmed. Don’t let me down.”
“Never, baby,” he assured her. “How are the weddin’ plans goin’?”
“You’ll have to ask your mother and future mother-in-law,” Kat sighed with amused resignation. “They’ve taken over. Mama hit me with everything bright and early this morning when I showed up at the house. She was biding her time until your departure and has already retained On a Whim’s services. Apparently, in my absence, she and your mother already linked up because Elin expectantly arrived for breakfast this morning slaying like the queen she is.”
His parents’ ceremony had been a simple affair, and while Elin only dressed up when they were in Sweden, Holt knew she had impeccable taste. He also knew that his mother kept her circle of friends minuscule. Vivienne’s outgoing personality might be just what Elin needed to be more outgoing.
“Please tell your mama I said thank you for includin’ mine. I’m sure she had a blast.”
“Yes, she did. I planned to reach out to her; however, like her daughter, you know my mama has no chill. It’s their show and we’re just supposed to show up when and wherever they tell me. My mind tried cataloging all the bridal designers mentioned— Vera Wang, Badgley Mischka, Jenny Packham, Naeem Khan, Alberta Ferretti, Oscar de la Renta…you get the point, right?”
Holt’s eyes glazed over. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, attempting to clear it. “Yeah, I think I’m gettin' the picture loud and clear. How are you handlin’ it?”
“It was cool the first hour, but then the debates between nude versus blush began, and I tuned out. They’re in hog heaven about everything. and I’m over here like…” Kat’s exhale was long but not an exact answer. “Can’t I wear a wedding dress made out of grilled cheese to nibble on all day?”
Holt exploded with laughter. “Baby, have I ever told you that you’re my favorite weirdo?”
“I might have possibly heard that a time or two, but why aren’t I your only weirdo?”
“Well, the rumors are true. Scr
atch what everyone else is sayin’. And because Guy’s been weird, and I met him first. What do you want to do for our big day? In the end, that’s all I give a damn about.”
“I just want you. I don’t care about some big-ass, fancy shindig. But I know my parents would go positively apeshit if I denied them the chance to give their only daughter a wedding extravaganza. All I want is a good time to be shared with our family and friends, and to stuff my face! Excellent food, decadent drinks, and an amazing wedding cake that I’ll sneak down to the kitchen and eat in the middle of the night because it’s so friggin’ yummy.”
Her voice dipped, taking on a sultry edge that practically made Holt’s toes curl. “That’s in between bouts of…Scrabble, of course. What do you envision for us?”
She was surely goin’ to be the death of him before they even got to the good stuff, Holt thought. “Scrabble?”
“This is me being on my best behavior,” she replied sweetly. “So yeah, Scrabble.”
“Best behavior, my ass,” Holt retorted affectionately. “You showin’ up and sayin’ I do is all I care about, but everythin’ else you said sounds great. I only have one request. Wear your hair down.”
“Done!” Kat cosigned. “Hey, I’m taking D.J. ice fishing tomorrow, and we planned to impress everyone by feeding them what we catch. Are you okay with me holding dinner here?”
“Woman, I’m gonna turn you over my knee if you keep asking me silly shit like that! It’s your house, too!” Holt growled with fond exasperation. “Have fun and stay safe. Tell D.J. I said to keep you in line.”
“Yes, sir!” she cracked.
The air swirled and thickened with awareness over her harmless response that suddenly conjured up sexual connotations. Kat sucked in a deep breath as Holt released a string of expletives under his breath.
“That was an accident! My bad,” she murmured.
Ten hours later, her core was still experiencing aftershocks. Kat was perfectly okay to have her mama and Elin shove her into whatever frock, leaving her mind free to replay every second of the last four days. The only thing she’d wanted to do when Holt left was to stay in bed until his return.
