Red velvet, p.1
Red Velvet, page 1
Red Velvet
Blackwood Cellars Series #2
Carla Luna
Moon Manor Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2021 by Carla Luna
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, contact: carlalunacullen@gmail.com
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First paperback edition: September 2021
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Cover Design: Bailey McGinn
Editing: Free Bird Editing
Proofreading: One Love Editing
ISBN: 978-1-7368661-3-9 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-7368661-2-2 (ebook)
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Published by Moon Manor Press
carlalunabooks.com
Created with Vellum
For Tasmine and James, who have cheered me on since the beginning.
Red Velvet
Six nights in the Northwoods, two best friends, and one big secret. What could possibly go wrong?
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In her ultra-competitive family, April Beckett is used to taking last place. She’s put up with years of jabs about her modest job and her pathetic love life. Especially after she tried to impress her older sisters with a fake boyfriend in college and failed miserably. But now she has a smoking-hot date for her brother’s wedding, guaranteed to wow them.
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Until he bails. Cue total desperation.
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Without April’s support, Brody Blackwood wouldn’t have survived his last breakup. So, if she needs a plus-one for a family wedding, he’s all in. Even if it means pretending to be her boyfriend. And committing to a week of activities at a wooded resort in Wisconsin. But how hard could a fall getaway with your best friend be?
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Too bad there’s a grueling 10K race and a cutthroat trivia night to endure. Not to mention a massive secret to protect. But will the biggest secret of all be that this fake relationship feels more real than April or Brody ever imagined?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
40. White Wedding - Blackwood Cellars Series #3
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
Few things pleased April Beckett more than taking a pan of sweets out of the oven. Even when she was at her lowest, the smell of baked goods always brightened her mood. She set the cupcake tins on two bamboo trivets, removed her oven mitts, and brought out her phone. After ensuring the cupcakes were angled correctly, she took a photo and posted it with a caption: Red velvet beauties, waiting to be frosted. #bakersgonnabake #cupcakesofinstagram
As she was setting the bowls and measuring cups in the sink, her phone pinged.
It had to be Brody.
Sure enough, Brody Blackwood, her good friend, movie buddy, and former crush, had commented on her post: PLEASE say these are for Treatday Thursday.
Of all her coworkers at Blackwood Cellars, no one appreciated her baking more than he did. She replied: Of course! Bringing them in for Delilah’s Bday.
In response, he sent a series of smiley face emojis.
His unabashed affection for her baking skills filled her with a warm glow. Though she’d been seeing Chris for five months, she still harbored a tiny crush on Brody. How could she not? He’d been one of the first people to befriend her when she’d relocated from Santa Barbara to the Temecula Valley—an hour north of San Diego—to work for his family’s company. And he was brilliant, funny, and totally hot for a self-proclaimed computer nerd.
She filled the sink with soapy water and shoved in the rest of her utensils. Once the dishes were done, she’d whip up the cream cheese frosting.
At the sound of a key turning in the lock, she froze.
Shit.
If Chris was making an impromptu booty call, she was ill prepared. Her faded sweats and messy hair were fine for a quiet evening to herself, but not for a night with her smoking-hot friend with benefits. Worse yet, her couch was cluttered with a wide assortment of tops, jeans, and dresses, as she narrowed down the choices for their weeklong trip to Wisconsin. Since he kept his apartment in immaculate condition, the disorder was bound to irritate him.
The door opened and Chris peered inside, holding a bike helmet under his arm. His forehead was damp with sweat, but it did nothing to diminish his good looks. Six foot two of lean muscle, thick black hair, and cheekbones that could cut glass. Factor in the skintight bike shirt and shorts he wore, and he was a sight to behold.
“Hey, April…” The words died on his lips as he took in the piles of clothing on the couch.
“Chris. I wasn’t expecting you.” Her hand flew to her head, where her topknot had unraveled to the point of no return. “How about I go freshen up? Why don’t you have a seat on the…” Clearly, the couch wasn’t an option. She pointed to the faded green armchair, where her spoiled Siberian cat had settled in for the night. “Take the chair. Just give Princess Peach a shove.”
He wrinkled his nose. “You know how I feel about cat hair on my clothes. And I won’t be long.” He sauntered over to the breakfast bar and frowned at the cupcakes. “Baking again? Butter and refined sugar are terrible for your waistline.”
April cringed. Though she was on the curvy side, none of her previous boyfriends had ever criticized her figure. But Chris claimed he did it out of compassion. After one too many lectures about her cholesterol levels, she’d vowed to seek out healthier baking choices. Yet here she was, breaking her word.
“They’re not for me,” she said. “I’m taking them to work.”
“I thought you weren’t doing Treatday Thursday anymore.”
She undid her apron and hung it on a peg. “It’s Delilah’s birthday tomorrow. Red velvet cupcakes are her favorite.”
“Why not bring in fresh veggies? Or a fruit tray?”
Because that’s Healthy Hanna’s job. If April was the devil on every dieter’s shoulder, then Hanna from HR was the angel, with her array of heart-healthy snacks, like kale chips and radish hummus.
Chris turned his attention to the couch. “You donating a bunch of stuff to Goodwill? About time.”
Did he think her clothes looked that bad? Granted, some of her outfits were out of style, but they weren’t unwearable. “I was trying to pare down the options for my brother’s wedding. We’re going to be there for six days, and the weather might be iffy since fall in Wisconsin isn’t dependable.”
“But you’re not leaving for another week.”
Did he just say “you’re”? She gave a shaky laugh. “You mean we’re not leaving for another week.”
He leaned against the breakfast bar and let out his breath. “Yeah. About that…?”
No. Please don’t back out now.
“You promised.” She hated how whiny she sounded, but he’d agreed six weeks ago. If anything, she’d been pleasantly surprised at how easily he capitulated. “After I went with you to the Oakland Triathlon, you said you’d do this for me.”
“I never should have agreed to it. Attending a destination wedding? With your entire family? That implies we’re getting serious.”
“But—”
“You know how I feel about commitment. Right now, it’s not an option.”
That aspect of their relationship didn’t bother her because she wasn’t in love with him. Not the way she assumed love was supposed to feel—a deep emotional connection that bound you to the other person, body and soul. But Chris was gorgeous, athletic, and driven. Much hotter than anyone she’d ever dated. Guys like him could have their pick of women. Yet, somehow, he’d chosen her.
She twisted her hands together. “I didn’t ask for anything long-term. Just a date for Ollie’s wedding. Six nights together in a cozy cottage on Lake Michigan. Think how much fun we’ll have.”
“April…”
“Plus, my family’s really competitive, so you’ll fit right in.”
Whenever they asked about him, she rarely missed a chance to mention his athletic prowess. By bringing him to the wedding, she’d finally show them she’d landed someone worthy of their approval.
When he didn’t respond, she held her breath, hoping he might reconsider. As the seco
“I like hanging out,” he said. “You’re always up for a good time. But…”
She tried to keep her voice from breaking. “But I’m only worthy of a booty call?”
He groaned. “That’s not what I meant. I’d be up for a normal vacation, like a weekend in the mountains. But weddings have this weird impact on women.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, one minute you’re happy being single; the next, you’re watching the bride walk down the aisle and wishing you were her.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she said.
In all her twenty-four years, she’d never contemplated marriage—not to Chris or anyone else. She had yet to experience the powerful, all-consuming pull of attraction that led to a lifelong commitment. Right now, all she wanted was for Chris to make an effort. Some gesture that showed he cared.
“Sorry, babe,” he said, “I can’t do it.”
Despite the warmth of the kitchen, ice-cold dread seeped into her veins. She grasped to find something—anything—to make him change his mind. “What about your plane ticket? Do you want to waste all that money?”
Though he wasn’t hurting financially, he’d complained about the cost and the lengthy layover. But she hadn’t been able to find any deals or direct flights from San Diego to Green Bay, Wisconsin.
He shrugged. “I got a changeable fare, so I can save the credit for another trip. No big deal.”
Not to him, obviously.
He glanced at his Garmin sport watch. “I should go. I still have ten miles left on my training, and then I need to work in a session in the weight room. How about you call me when you get back? We can hook up then.”
She stared at him, too stunned to answer. Canceling now was a dick move. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry.
If she were strong enough, she would have called him on his selfish behavior months ago. He’d canceled on her before, most notably when she’d planned a beachside getaway, and he’d backed out at the last minute. Not only had she lost two hundred dollars on the deposit, but he’d never offered to help pay for it.
But before Chris, her bed had been empty for months. Even the crumbs of his affection were better than slowly morphing into a lonely cat lady.
“Sure,” she muttered.
He leaned closer and stroked her cheek. “That’s my girl. I’ll make it up to you in the bedroom.” With a wink, he headed for the door. “Have fun at the wedding, but try not to overindulge. Go easy on the sweets.”
What the hell?
What was Delilah always telling her? To sit up straight, look people in the eye, and speak her mind. April had let her family walk all over her for years. She needed to stand up for herself, even if the prospect made her stomach churn.
She clenched her fists, digging her nails deep into her palms. “No.”
Chris did a double take. “No, what?”
“No, I can eat whatever I want at the wedding. And no, you can’t make it up to me in the bedroom. Because if you bail this late in the game, then we’re done.”
“Why are you being so difficult? Can’t we enjoy what we have and leave it at that?”
No. After being available for Chris whenever he needed her, after cheering him on at all his races, she’d asked him for one thing. Granted, it was a big ask, but he’d given her his word. And by breaking it so casually, he’d shown her exactly how little she meant to him.
She shook her head. “I’m done, Chris.”
He gave a huff of disbelief. “You’re dumping me? Are you serious?”
Her insides twisted into a knot. Maybe this was a terrible mistake. If she acted like she was joking, she could still salvage things.
But what was she trying to salvage? A few quickies a week, with a guy who disparaged her weight and fashion choices? The occasional weekend away, spent watching him compete? Even if the sex was decent, it didn’t make up for the criticism or the hours of self-doubt that plagued her every time he joked about her “muffin top.”
“This trip means a lot to me,” she said. “And you promised you’d go. If you can’t be there for me, then I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. But if that’s what you want, then it’s your loss.”
With that, he was gone, slamming the door behind him.
For a brief, blissful moment, the fire inside April burned bright. Screw Chris. She was through with all his calorie counting and all his rules. Like no sleeping over. After they were done, he always dressed and headed for the door. No matter how many times she asked him to stay, he claimed spending the night would derail his morning run.
For once in her life, she hadn’t given in like a meek little mouse. She snatched a cupcake off the cooling rack and ate half of it in one bite. Even without the frosting, it was delicious.
See what you’re missing, Chris?
Then reality sunk in. Her brother’s wedding was in less than a week, and she didn’t have a date.
Showing up without a date shouldn’t matter. She’d been single when her two older sisters had gotten married. And for every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and family vacation for the past four years. Except, this time, she’d bragged about her plus-one. If she didn’t bring Chris, her sisters would assume she’d made him up. Just like Sam Jameson, the guy she’d invented five years ago to get them off her case. A lie no one had ever forgotten.
She couldn’t face another minute without backup. With trembling hands, she sent Brody a text.
If you’re free tonight, I need you. Code Red.
Chapter 2
Brody Blackwood arrived at April’s apartment within thirty minutes of her text. He rang the doorbell, juggling a bag of takeout Chinese food in one hand and a six-pack of Tsingtao beer in the other.
When April opened the door, her frazzled appearance made his heart ache in sympathy. Wisps of chestnut-brown hair had escaped from her messy bun, her Godzilla t-shirt was dusted with flour, and her large, hazel eyes were red and swollen.
He set down the food and enfolded her in a hug. She clung to him tightly, pressing her body against his, and he was distracted by how nice she felt. Soft and warm and sexier than usual.
Which was ridiculous. She was one of his closest friends. He was only reacting to the softness of her curves because he hadn’t gotten laid in three months. He released her and stepped back. “What did the bastard do this time?”
She wiped her eyes. “What makes you think this is about Chris?”
“Of course it’s about Chris.” Grabbing the food and the beer, he followed her inside. After setting the bag of takeout on the table, he got out the cartons. The savory aroma of lo mein made his mouth water.
“Did you get deep-fried wontons?” she asked. “Please tell me you got wontons.”
“With two orders of sauce. I also got kung pao chicken and lo mein with shrimp.” He’d chosen her favorites, knowing she’d be more likely to eat them if she wasn’t trying to please Chris.
She took a deep breath. “Thanks. I’ve missed this so much. I’ll get us some plates.”
He trailed behind her, stopping at the sight of the freshly baked cupcakes. He reached for one. “These look fantastic.”
