Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3 Read online

  “For employment?” she asked.

  “Yeah…or pleasure.”

  The expression on his face and the way he drew out the word “pleasure” made her toes curl in her sandals.

  Right, employment. He’d asked about her work.

  “I’m a financial planner,” she replied.

  Brek rubbed his hands together. “Like Dean?”

  “Yup.” She and Dean had worked together for years. “Our offices are across the hall from each other. That’s how Dean met Claire.” Claire had come to visit Velma at work and had wandered into Dean’s office by accident.

  That was the day Velma’s dream of becoming Mrs. Dean Stuart died—all because she had waited too long to make her move and lost her chance.

  Mr. Right had met her sister and they’d ended up together, making kissy faces during Thanksgiving dinner.

  Actually, they never made kissy faces. The two of them were much too classy for that.

  Brek leaned his hip against her granite countertop and crossed his leather-covered arms. “No idea what Dean does at his job, either, but I’m sure you’re both fantastic at it.”

  “We help people with their financial portfolios. Annuities, estate plans, investment management, things like that. What about you?”

  “I’m in the music industry.” He snagged one of the crystal wine goblets she’d put out earlier and swaggered toward her.

  Her stomach did a loop the loop. The swagger affected her more than expected. “You play in a band?”

  “Nah. I play guitar, but not professionally. I manage a band.” He popped the top off a wine cooler and poured it all the way to the tippy top of the glass. Then he edged inside her personal-space bubble and handed her the glass.

  “Thanks.” Normally, she didn’t drink much—especially on Sundays. Monday marked the start of the week, with new chances and opportunities. She preferred to start it at her best, not hung over with a headache.

  Then again, tonight was the night of change. Big-news change. My-sister’s-moving-in-with-my-dream-man change. So Velma would have a wine cooler—no use in wasting it when Brek had already poured it—and ignore her attraction to Dean. Steps to a new life filled with…finding a new man who was as perfect for her as Dean was. Baby steps and all that.

  Brek slipped off his jacket and tossed it over one of the island barstools. Tattoos ran from the short sleeves of his black T-shirt to his wrists. They looked tribal, mostly wild, and super-hot. If one liked tattoos. Which, she reminded herself, she did not.

  “Claire says you two are twins?” Brek asked.

  “Uh-huh,” she muttered around a gulp of carbonated peach drink.

  “You and Claire don’t look like twins,” Brek said.

  Velma pulled a stack of small, hand-painted dessert plates from her for-company-only dish cupboard. “We’re not identical.”

  “No kidding,” he replied, serious. “It’s the eyes.”

  Ha. Hardly just the eyes. Velma’s eyes were muted gray, like a painter had finished painting for the day and just didn’t feel like adding more cyan to the palette. Claire’s were a rich brown. More than that, Claire was thin and Velma, well…she was Velma. All curves, like her mother. No matter how many calories she counted or steps the app on her phone registered, the curves stayed put. Velma’s hair was dirty blonde. Not the attractive kind, either. In-desperate-need-of-highlights blonde was more like it. Claire’s hair was a beautiful deep-chestnut color.

  “Why does Claire call you Velvet?” Brek asked.

  She sighed and paused, plate in hand. “Family nickname. No matter how many times I ask them to stop.”

  “Velma.” He seemed to be testing the name, letting it melt on his tongue like warm chocolate on a vanilla sundae.

  “Not a name I’d lie about.” She set out the last of the plates on the table.

  “I like it. It’s original.” The low, rumbly words made her lungs constrict in a warm way she refused to acknowledge.

  “Unfortunately, it’s not even original.” She pulled a cutting board from the pantry. “Claire was born first, so she got the cool name. I was born three minutes later and got Velma.”

  “It’s an interesting name.”

  “Velma was my grandmother’s name. But there couldn’t be two of us in the same family, so they all call me Velvet.”

  “I like Velvet,” he said.

  She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t.”

  When she was a child, everyone bought her clothes with cheap velvet fabric. They itched. She hated them. As far as she was concerned, velvet was scratchy and uncomfortable.

  “This news. Any idea what it is?” Velma asked.

  “You don’t know?” Brek replied.

  “No idea.” Except she was absolutely certain they were taking the next step in their relationship by moving in together, and maybe getting a puppy.

  Brek popped the top on a Coors. “I figured you and Claire shared everything.”

  “Nope.” Not this time. “Claire just said she has big news.”

  “Maybe she’s knocked up,” Brek suggested.

  Velma’s heart skipped five beats. She grabbed a knife and sliced into an onion with renewed energy. “No way.”

  “I don’t know.” He ran a palm over the back of his neck. “Seems reasonable to me.”

  “Then you don’t know Claire. She’s way too involved in her career to get pregnant right now.” Velma set the onions aside and went to work on chopping carrots to top the salad.

  Brek motioned to the cutting board. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “Do you know how to julienne carrots?” Velma replied.

  “Nope.” He shrugged. “But I know how to cook a steak.”

  She laughed. “Well, tonight it’s pork roast, so I’ll have to take a rain check on your culinary skills.”

  “Absolutely. Next time I’m in town, I’ll grill you up a steak.” He raised his beer to her.

  She stared at him. He couldn’t actually be serious.

  He was serious.

  “Maybe they called us here because Dean needs a kidney?” he asked.

  “He doesn’t need a kidney.” Although, Velma would probably give him one if needed. She had a remarkably hard time telling him no. “They’re probably just…” Say it out loud, Velma. She sighed. “Just moving in together.”

  “Nah. They wouldn’t have dragged me here for that. Maybe their big news is they’re gonna try to hook us up.”

  “You and me?” Velma pointed the knife at Brek, then back to herself.

  Of all the options, that one was the most reasonable. And, yet, totally unreasonable. No way would Claire pair the two of them together.

  “You said you don’t have a guy.” Brek’s tone turned serious.

  Her body irrationally responded to his apparent interest with tingles.

  “No.” Of course she didn’t have a guy.

  She’d had lots of first dates lately.

  “I get the feeling you need some help loosening up. Enjoy some time away from your five-year-husband-seeking plan. There’s a club downtown with a great band playing later. We should go.” Brek’s gaze raked over her.

  His pointed interest was actually…nice. Still, there was no way she would go clubbing later. Brek wasn’t her type. Not only because of the tattoos or the extreme need for a licensed barber or his ripped jeans. No, it was more the general sense of unease he stirred within her. Also, it was Sunday. What kind of a club was open on a Sunday night? Definitely not one she should visit.

  “You stressed about the dinner?” he asked.

  “No,” she lied through her teeth.

  “You’re stressed about the dinner,” he declared. “I get that, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

  For a half second, she believed there was nothing to worry about. Truth was, there was always something to worry about. Starting with her clothes. She needed to change into something that wasn’t yoga pants before her sister arrived in what would undoubtedly be a
perfect sundress.

  “I’m only in town for a few days anyway,” he continued. “We’ll get through the part where Claire and Dean do the awkward you-two-should-get-to-know-each-other schtick. We’ll eat and then we’ll send them on their way. You don’t want to go to a club? That’s fine. I’ll stick around. What do you say, Velma?”

  The way he said her name felt like silk against her skin. Silk was so much nicer than velvet.

  She tried to tug off her apron, but her hair was stuck in the tie at the back of her neck. Crud. Another tug. Her hair was really stuck. “You want to go clubbing on a Sunday night?”

  “Absolutely.” He nodded to where her hair was caught. “Need some help?”

  “Yes, please.” She pressed her eyes closed.

  He looped a finger under the little bow tying the apron at the back of her neck. His calloused fingertip traced the ribbon along her shoulder to the collar of her sweater, unraveling the knot of hair and sending little shivers along his path of exploration.

  Maybe she could get away to the club for a little while. It wasn’t like she had better things to do. “Where is this cl—”

  “Hey, Velvet.” Her sister, Claire, shoved open the front door. “Hi, Brek. You made it. Dean’s so excited you’re here.”

  “Did you lose him?” Brek squeezed Velma’s shoulder.

  A hit of sizzle deep in her belly echoed the motion of his touch.

  “He’s parking the car.” Claire closed the door and sauntered to the kitchen with her svelte build and Audrey Hepburn grace. “Okay, I know I’ve made you wait. But…” Claire bit at the light-pink lipstick on her bottom lip. “Surprise!” She held out her fingers with a little jazz hand motion.

  An engagement ring perched on the fourth finger of Claire’s left hand.

  Velma’s heart skidded to her toes. She blinked hard. No, it couldn’t be.

  A ring.

  A wedding.

  Satin and lace, champagne toasts and flower girls.

  This wasn’t a puppy. And it was so much more than an apartment.

  Velma reached for Claire’s hand, her throat constricting. “Oh my gosh.”

  “I know, right?” Claire squeezed Velma’s fingers. “I had to tell you in person.”

  “Oh. My. Gosh.” Velma said again, this time more slowly. She looked straight into Claire’s eyes and saw it—excitement and love for Dean. Happiness. Velma glued a grin onto her face. Her sister was happy. That was all that mattered. “Claire. It’s perfect.”

  “I’m gonna go find Dean.” Brek caught Velma’s gaze and winked. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag.”

  “Wait, you knew about this?” Velma asked.

  “Hell yeah, I knew.” Brek opened the door. “Didn’t want to ruin Claire’s surprise, though.”

  “So you asked me out instead?” Velma asked.

  Claire scrunched up her forehead. “Brek asked you out? Like on a date?”

  “Oh look, it’s Dean.” Brek feigned innocence as he held the door wide. “I’m officially saved by the groom.”

  “She finally told her?” Dean strode inside and glanced to where Velma stood in a swirling vortex of time.

  “Uh-huh.” Claire nodded, her eyes misted over.

  A suit. Dean wore a tailored suit complete with shined cap-toed shoes and gold cuff links. Each black hair on his head lay precisely where it should. He was absolute perfection.

  Velma swallowed the heaviness in her throat and tried to pretend it was from excitement for her sister.

  “Well, then—hey, sis.” Dean strutted toward Velma and wrapped her in a hug. “Claire made me keep my mouth shut for a whole week.”

  Velma’s insides did a little flutter that was totally unacceptable. Time moved at the speed of a sloth. Like watching a car accident happen in real time, when everything went slow and then fast again all at once. “You’ve been engaged for a week and didn’t say anything?”

  They’d sat through a load of sales meetings. Two client lunches where he’d driven them both to the restaurant. He’d never given any indication he’d freaking proposed to her sister. They’d discussed retirement plans and supplemental income sources. He hadn’t mentioned anything that would’ve even whispered of proposal news.

  “Believe me, it was hard keeping my mouth shut. Can you believe you’re going to be my little sister?” His breath brushed against the top of her head.

  “Uh…nope,” Velma said through gritted teeth.

  “It’s great, isn’t it?” Dean leaned back and scanned her face.

  Her knees went weak, like a cheesy movie heroine.

  “It is great. Totally. Great. I’m so excited.” Velma stepped away from him, refusing to show anything but happiness for her sister’s sake. Any feelings from now on would be purely of the appropriate sisterly kind.

  Claire and Dean were engaged.

  Yup, Velma’s Mr. Right was going to marry her sister.

  Chapter Two

  Countdown to Claire & Dean’s Wedding: 8 Weeks

  Those gray eyes had fucked with Brek’s sanity from the parking lot all the way to the kitchen. Brek liked Velma. Aside from being stacked, she was funny. And sexy. And she smelled fruity. Strawberries. Definitely strawberries.

  “Dinner’s amazing,” Dean announced. “Velma, you outdid yourself.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” She glanced up from the untouched plate in front of her and flashed Dean the most plastic smile Brek had ever seen. Given his work with celebrities, he had seen some damn good fake smiles.

  Velma’s flinch had been nearly imperceptible when Claire had announced her engagement. No one else likely caught it. But Brek clocked her reaction, and it didn’t align with Velma’s insistence that she was excited for her sister. Ever since she’d escaped to her room to change, she’d gone distant. Concern stirred deep in his gut.

  “She can cook, that’s for sure.” Brek reached for another roll.

  “Thanks.” She glanced from Dean to Brek.

  Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, and his dick responded immediately.

  “Velma, how goes your house hunting?” Dean nodded to Velma.

  “You’re moving?” Claire asked from where she was refilling her wineglass in the kitchen. “I thought you loved this place?”

  “Not moving.” Velma dabbed at her lips with a cloth napkin.

  Brek stared at her lips too long. She had nice lips. Full lips. Lips any man would fantasize about. He’d had to shove his hands in his pockets earlier so he wouldn’t be tempted to trace his thumb along her plump bottom lip.

  “I’m just looking into ways to supplement my income long term,” she went on. “Real estate investments make a lot of sense. I added them to my five-year life plan.”

  Five-year what-a-what?

  “I’m telling you.” Dean was apparently oblivious to her lips and their power. “Rent out your spare room. You’ve got a real estate investment opportunity right here.”

  “She doesn’t do roommates, hon. Never has. I think the whole sharing Mom’s belly with me did her in.” Claire returned to the table. “Brek, did you tell Dean you hit on my sister?”

  “Nope.” Never in his life had a button-up sweater turned him on before, but on Velma it seemed to short-circuit his brain cells. He was a moth to her flame or some shit. Times like this made him happy he wasn’t sticking around Denver. A girl like Velma could easily get under his skin. He didn’t need that. Didn’t have time for that. He had a band to manage and a life that didn’t involve five-year plans.

  “He didn’t hit on me, Claire. He offered to take me to a club.”

  “You’re already moving in on Velma?” Dean’s eyes turned to slits as he glared at Brek. “You’re fast. Faster than that time with Chelsea. And that was freaky fast. I feel compelled to tell you she’s my family now—which means, don’t jerk her around.”

  Dean was a crack-up when he got protective, but Brek didn’t particularly want to discuss his former hookups at the dinner table. His
mother had instilled some manners in him, after all. He cleared his throat. “Velma, was I jerking you around?”

  “Um, maybe?” She fidgeted with her fork, spearing a heap of lettuce with the tines. “With the whole bit about Claire being pregnant and Dean needing a kidney and all.”

  Claire dropped her spoon with a clank. “You told her I’m pregnant?”

  “You told her I need a kidney?” Dean smacked Brek’s shoulder. “Dude. Not cool.”

  In his defense, he’d been trying to distract her from being so uptight.

  “How’s the wedding planning coming along?” Brek made a solid attempt at changing the subject.

  “I hired your sister to be our wedding planner.” Claire sat taller.

  Operation Change the Subject worked—for now, at least.

  Dean mouthed, “Not finished with you,” in his direction.

  “She wasn’t even taking on new clients”—Claire turned to Velma—“because she’s about to have a baby. But she took us on. Isn’t that great?”

  “You already hired a wedding planner?” Velma’s expression dropped, but she caught herself quickly. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re engaged?”

  “I asked your dad before I popped the question. They’ve known for a while.” Dean looked at Claire like a man ready to hand over his dick for all eternity.

  Claire glanced back at Dean like she was a woman ready to accept his dick for all eternity. “Dean swore them to secrecy. I told them we’d talk to you tonight.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course you talked to them first. That makes sense.”

  The way Velma said the words meant she didn’t believe it made sense at all.

  “It’s all so exciting.” Velma tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear, revealing a single pearl earring.

  Brek didn’t realize women still wore pearls. It was…retro. Different. Classy. “Aspen’s the best. She’ll take care of you.”

  His sister threw good parties. He’d give her that.

  “Do you have any idea when the big day will be?” Velma asked.

  “First Saturday in August. It’s fast, but we don’t want to wait. And Brek’s sister is amazing. She says she can make it happen.” Claire picked at the carrots in her salad. “Which brings me to the other reason we wanted you two here.”