“What?” Why was this the first he was hearing of it? Oh yeah, maybe it was because he didn’t speak with his dad, and he barely connected with his siblings, who each seemed to have a corner of the world. “Wait, are you saying Dad and Mom are back together?”
Chase was shaking his head. “No, not back together, not yet.”
“So I guess I don’t understand where the problem is. She just showed up on his doorstep?” Where the hell had she been all these years?
“I don’t know everything.”
“Sure you do. You always do.”
Chase smiled. “Okay, got me there. It seems he ran into her one day downtown. He asked her for coffee, she stayed for dinner, and two months later, here we are.”
“I presume you’re going to get to the part where Dad is in trouble before the sun goes down tonight.”
Chase smiled, and his eyes flashed in that way of his that told Vic he was getting ready to drop a big old bomb that would have everyone on the edges of their seats. “It seems Mom has decided she wants Dad back, which isn’t the problem, as Dad is already two feet in and down that path. The problem is that when mom showed up with her suitcase in hand, she wasn’t alone. She has a daughter, and we apparently have a sister.”
Chapter 33
Fiona was in Vic’s office, behind his desk, answering emails after placing a food order for the cafe and delegating to her staff tasks she’d normally have handled. It wasn’t that they weren’t capable of handling all the day-to-day work; it was the fact that Fiona was having to hand over a piece of something that was all hers, something that had given her so much purpose.
“There you are.” Vic strode into his office, the expression on his face unreadable.
“Sorry, I, uh…” She closed up her email account before looking up to him, again swamped by the feeling that she had to hide everything. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
He frowned. “You knew I had a family, a dad.” A family he’d never talked about.
“So that’s your brother. He doesn’t look like you,” she said and leaned back in his extremely comfortable chair. The leather surrounded her like a pillow, a far cry from the vinyl chair in her tiny office at the back of the Bellevue cafe.
“We’re adopted,” he said as he sat on the edge of the desk, turning his body so he could look at her. A deep sense of brooding seemed to have come over him.
“You know, Vic, these thirty days you want won’t really work if you’re not willing to share.”
“So you’ll give me the thirty days.”
“One condition.”
He said nothing but watched her in that way of his that had her squirming. She was positive he was seeing her naked. This was such a vulnerable place to be with him, and it terrified her even now.
“You won’t push,” she said. “You’ll give me space, and I’ll move back into the guest room.” Good girl! She wanted to pat herself on the back.
Maybe he hadn’t expected that. “No,” he said so matter of factly, and she wanted to argue with him, but he was shaking his head as he walked around the desk and pulled out her chair. He leaned down, pressing his hands on the chair arms, trapping her. She was breathing him in, and damn, the man always smelled so good. Their attraction simmered between them. “I will push,” he said. “The entire idea of these thirty days is you and me sharing space, getting to know each other intimately, every part of each other.”
He leaned in, and she shut her eyes, waiting for him to kiss her, to press those warm full lips that weakened her knees and her reasoning against hers. She could feel how close he was.
“You’ll be in my bed, under me, screaming out my name every night and any time I want you. You’ll give me those thirty days to have you, all of you, because sleeping with someone makes you vulnerable, and nothing happens here with us if you aren’t there.”
The tip of his nose brushed hers, and a gasp escaped her lips. He didn’t touch her even though he was so close to her, waiting for her to agree.
She knew it, and she couldn’t fight it, this desire he was driving in her. “Fine,” she said, and he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers so lightly for a moment before pulling away, leaving her wanting him.
He smiled as if he’d gotten everything he wanted in the deal. He had, it took her an extra second to realize. “Listen, my brother is staying for a bit. I’ll introduce you and John to him tonight.” He reached for her hand and lifted it, studying her fingers. She wondered what he was thinking.
“I agreed to your thirty days, but I meant it, Vic: You need to share. I can’t help feeling that something’s up between you and your brother.”
The fact was that it seemed there was some pretty heavy tension between the brothers, but that was just her first impression of the two from the five minutes she’d taken in their greeting. He said nothing as he walked around the desk to the open door, and her chest squeezed, not knowing what he was doing. Was he leaving?
Then he pressed the door closed. What had she been expecting? She wasn’t sure with Vic. He was so hard to read. His hand was still on the door, and he was looking down at her, but she didn’t have a clue what he was seeing, what he was thinking. She wondered whether she should be worried. Then he glanced her way, moved away from the door.
“I have three brothers, Chase, Luc, and Aaron. We were all adopted, me when I was a baby in a private adoption, Chase when he was two, Luc at eighteen months, and Aaron when he was a five-year-old snot-nosed little shit.” He actually smiled as he said it, looking off as if reliving a memory.
“Wow. I didn’t know that about you. How come you never shared that with me all those years ago? We were together for how long?” Eight months, two weeks, and six days. She’d counted and wondered if he had, too. It was long enough, but he’d never shared anything of them.
“I was interested in you and stealing cars then. My family came second…” He was shaking his head. Maybe he didn’t have an answer.
She waited him out, watching as he squeezed the sides of his lips with his thumb and forefinger. It was something she’d seen him do a time or two when he was stuck in a moment in time, a thought or memory. Vic wasn’t an open book. He was so complex that she needed a manual at times to decipher him.
“I started stealing cars for Dad. He gambled, got himself in trouble, and I stole my first car to pay off the bookie who’d shown up at the house with a baseball bat and beat the crap out of him. Dad was out cold. Aaron was there. He’d heard, he knew. Chase was out with friends, and Luc…I don’t know where the hell he was. I knew at that moment it would fall to me to fix everything, and I did. I made an arrangement with the bookie and stole a damn car, and I got hooked on that rush, the adrenaline of taking something that wasn’t mine, knowing the danger, that with one slip-up, one cop pulling up behind me and running the plate, I was as good as in jail for years. I loved the money, the life, all of it. Never told you that,” he added, crossing his arms in front of him as she leaned back on his desk and then slid her bottom onto the flat surface, her feet dangling as he stopped right in front of her.
She shook her head but said nothing. Fiona never knew why he’d gotten into it. He’d never told her. She’d never asked.
“Fixed Dad’s problem, but he never knew why or how. Told him I convinced the bookie. I think he was just grateful he wasn’t dead. But I found a way to make money, a lot, and as the story goes, I was hooked up with a guy who used to repo cars, and he taught me everything I needed to know about getting into any car, boosting it, and disappearing.”
“And after Phoenix?” She almost couldn’t ask. It was a topic that still hurt.
“I had money stashed, and I was smart. I was young. Had a high school diploma, but that was it, so I made a plan and landed a scholarship to Harvard. Worked my ass off part time in construction, graduated with my MBA, and started my own construction company, and I haven’t looked back.”
He lifted his hand and slid it over her cheek, touching her so lig
htly with his index finger, his gaze heavy. “Quid pro quo,” he said. He was serious, and she curled her fingers around the edge of the desk. “You’re at a loss. Let me help you. You were alone with John. How did you manage, and why the cafe? Was there ever anyone else?”
Ah, so that was it. What could she say to him about how hard it had been to be single and pregnant? “I pulled it together. It wasn’t easy, but I found subsidized housing so I could work part time and raise John as a baby. I saved over the years so I could open my place.”
She’d scraped by every month, cutting out what she didn’t absolutely need, and she’d created a business plan and memorized and planned out every detail for years—the location, the size, the menu—until there was no mistake in her mind that it would work. “I made a profit the first year. I’ve remained conservative but flexible, mindful of my customers. There was no time for anyone.” She couldn’t have allowed herself to become close to anyone. An intimate relationship would have brought questions she never wanted to answer.
“It had to have been hard,” he said, “being alone.”
“Yes. Was there ever someone else for you?” she asked.
“Nothing serious,” he said, and she wondered who was being more vague.
“So no one in your life other than picking up a lot of women for sex,” she said.
He leaned in, resting one hand on the desk beside her thigh, and the other touched her waist and slid up, each movement so deliberate. “Just sex, no relationships, and I always used protection.”
But he hadn’t with her. The fact wasn’t lost on her as his face was close again, his expression unreadable. His eyes seemed to darken, and she wondered whether he would kiss her as he ran his hand up her side, his fingers tracing her as if knowing exactly where he could touch her.
She shut her eyes and leaned her head back, opening up her neck just as she felt his lips touch her, taste her, his hands holding her there as he stepped in between her legs. Oh, good God, he was so big, and she knew she couldn’t stop this even if she’d wanted to. She’d weep, she was sure, if he stopped now. She wanted more of Vic, all of his heat and touch and kiss. She wanted him to love her here.
“Vic, what are you doing?” Her voice sounded breathy and not hers.
His hand had somehow slid under her shirt and was skimming over her skin, touching the underside of her cotton bra as he lifted her shirt over her head. His other hand was around her back as he maneuvered her down so she was lying flat on his desk, her legs spread as he stood between them, and she wanted to touch him, too.
He just took her in, every part of her, her every curve, her ordinary and practical white bra. There was no lace or frills, and for a second that bothered her.
“What?” He lifted his hand and touched her brow, and she wondered how he could read her so well.
“It’s nothing,” she said.
He placed his hand on her flat stomach as his other slid over her thigh and down around her ass, pulling her so she was pinned against him, feeling every hard inch. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe.
“Hey, Vic…”
She hadn’t heard the door, and she was up so fast she banged her elbow, Vic still between her legs. She was against his chest, hiding her shirtless state. She couldn’t see his brother, and she was glad, as the humiliation was so humbling. Maybe Vic knew, as his arm was around her, holding her to him.
“What?” he said to his brother. She was grateful he didn’t turn around. “Ever heard of knocking?”
“Whoa, geez, so sorry.” Chase actually laughed, but he didn’t leave. “Listen, I wanted to talk with you about Mom.”
Oh my good God, he was still talking, and she thought he’d also stepped into the room. Her fists curled into Vic’s shirt, and she heard him hiss.
“Easy,” he said. He kissed her temple, both his arms around her now. It was a protection she loved, one she wanted.
She said nothing, hoping to disappear, but she knew she couldn’t.
“Chase, listen, kind of busy here,” Vic said.
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, why don’t I give you a minute?”
She realized he was still there even though she couldn’t see him. “Vic, tell him to leave, please,” she whispered.
“Chase, get out!” he shouted and then laughed as the door closed. “Where were we?” he said, sliding his hand down her back as she pressed both hands to his chest and shoved.
“No, no, down, please. Once was enough of your brother walking in. Don’t you have a lock?” She scooted off the desk and looked for her shirt. Finding it tossed on the floor, she grabbed it and pulled it on just as a hand slid over her ass.
“I’ll go and talk to Chase. You go upstairs to the bedroom and wait for me.”
She was shocked for a minute and couldn’t believe he’d suggest such a thing in the middle of the day. With his brother there. “No, now that I’ve regained my senses, I have things to do.” What, she didn’t know, considering the distance between her and her work. He was controlling so much of her life, her day to day, and now he wanted to tell her what to do.
“Fiona, you can’t tell me you don’t want me.” He took a step toward her, and she knew he’d have her back on that desk, convincing her his way was the only way, so she did the only thing she considered the smart thing to do. She took a step back and then another.
“You stay right there. You go talk or whatever it is you need to do, and I’ll go and get John from school.”
He didn’t seem happy in the least, but she also didn’t expect him to give in. He slid his hand into his pocket and lifted out a set of keys, and he held them up as he closed the gap between them, bringing with him all the sexual tension that erupted any time he was within a foot of her.
“Don’t scratch my car,” he said, and she realized he was actually going to let her drive his Charger. Wow!
She took the keys and rose up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His hands instantly went over her ass, pulling her to him, and she had to wiggle away. “Stop! Hands to yourself,” she said as she moved out the door.
“You may have gotten away now, Fiona, but tonight…”
She had her back to him and turned her head only slightly, very aware of how close he was as his hand slid over her shoulder. His fingers traced a line up the side of her neck.
“You won’t be going anywhere,” he said. “So rest up. You have a long night ahead of you.”
That was exactly what she was afraid of and wanted at the same time.
Chapter 34
Tracking down his brother after he’d taken a minute to cool his heels hadn’t left Vic in a very accommodating mood, considering Chase had interrupted a very intimate encounter on his desk right as he’d planned to peel back one more of Fiona’s layers and rip away her instinct of wanting to run from him.
Fiona, though, had been all smiles as he’d watched her climb behind the wheel of his baby and pull away a little too fast. She was having fun driving his car, and it wasn’t lost on him that he’d never let anyone, ever, behind the wheel of a car he owned.
He spotted Nora carrying a stack of towels up the stairs. “You seen my brother?”
“Last I saw him, he was heading toward the gym. Said he was checking out the house, and that was after he was in your room, sir. He borrowed, as he put it, shorts and a T-shirt.” It wasn’t lost on Vic that Nora sounded far from her usual calm. He wondered what else Chase had done.
It had been the same growing up. Chase hadn’t hesitated to wear anything of his, especially when there were no clean clothes, because laundry never got done until none of them had anything left. “Other than that, is everything okay with my brother? He’s not causing any grief for you?”
“Of course not. Have to say I was a little surprised he’s your brother. After that reporter showing up and saying she was your sister, I was expecting him to be a reporter or someone else trying to get to you.”
“I’m sure you were. You handled it fine. Listen, since Cha
se is staying the night, we’ll have dinner in the dining room.”
“Absolutely. Already started dinner. Usual time, sir?” she asked, and he had to think. Usually dinner was whenever he got home, but now with John and Fiona here, he was having to change a lot about his schedule.
“Earlier. John has school, so let’s say…”
“Six, sir, will that work?” she added with a teasing smile. Maybe she knew he didn’t have a clue about a good dinner hour for a family.
“Six is perfect.”
He let Nora get on with her day and started to the gym at the back of the house. As soon as he started down the hallway, he could hear someone on the bench press, the clatter of weights. He stepped into the gym and took in his neat and tidy brother in a pair of his shorts, a T-shirt, and bare feet laying on the bench, lifting what looked like ninety pounds.
He rested the bar back on the rack and sat up. He was sweating, and he lifted the edge of the white shirt to wipe his face. “So sorry again about walking in on you and…” He gestured, and it kind of bothered Vic that his brother couldn’t remember Fiona’s name.
“Fiona.”
“Sorry, Fiona. Don’t know where my head is. I’m great with names usually. She seems nice, skittish, quiet, not really your type,” he added, and Vic wasn’t sure what his brother was getting at. What the hell did he know about his type?
“You’ll be meeting John tonight—my son,” he added, realizing he could have brought it up in a way that wouldn’t have been such a shock.
“Your son, like…real, like really yours? What, a baby?”
Yeah, there definitely could have been a better way. “John is fourteen. Long story.” One he didn’t intend to get into.
“And Fiona fits in how?” Chase was smart, and Vic could see that lawyerly brain trying to analyze and put some order into this.
“She’s John’s mother.” Vic crossed his arms, taking in the shock, staring back at him.
Don't Stop Me Page 13