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.
Anengagementring 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.”
