“I opened the shop at five a.m., then after my shift there, I walked next door, working nine hours in a preschool.”
Victor’s eyes widened. “Those are some long hours.”
She agreed. “Yeah. I basically lived for Sundays back then because that was my only day off.”
“You worked fourteen hours a day, six days a week?”
Belle wasn’t sure what was so shocking about that. For one thing, she knew a lot of people who worked long hours—Victor included. “It was sort of necessary, considering I wanted a place to live and food to eat. Besides, you put in some long days yourself,” she pointed out.
Victor shrugged, making it obvious he didn’t think there was any comparison. “I also get compensated well for my time.”
“Wait! You make more than minimum wage?” she gasped, pretending to be shocked. She knew perfectly well—from Vivian—that Victor’s contract earned him well into the seven-figure range each year.
Victor snorted. “A little bit more.”
Belle rolled her eyes. “Must be nice.”
“Can I go get my crayons?” Pip asked, squirming to get off Victor’s lap.
“Of course,” Belle replied. “I think they’re still in the living room.”
Victor set her on the floor, and she took the piece of paper with her. “She loves to draw.”
“She really does,” Belle agreed. “Twenty bucks says she forgets to come back with her crayons and we find her hunkered down on the living room floor, creating some intense backstory to go with whatever it is she’s coloring.”
Victor smirked. “Not taking bets I’ll lose.”
“While I have you alone,” Belle said, somewhat nervously, as she glanced down at the menu they’d yet to fill in.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Victor said. “I got a little too carried away with the kid-friendly food last week. You were right last night. I do eat healthy meals when it’s just me. The thing is,” Victor ran a hand through his long hair, “I was overcompensating, worried Pip would be upset when Viv left. I guess I thought I could keep any tears at bay by feeding her pudding and pizza.”
Pip had indeed had a few weepy moments in the past week, missing her mother, but Victor and Belle had made a formidable tag team whenever that happened, finding ways to comfort, console, and distract the little girl.
“I get that.” Belle really did. “And to be honest, those chocolate pudding cups saved us a couple of times this week.”
Belle appreciated how much thought and care Victor had put into making sure Pip felt welcomed and happy in his home. And not just his niece but her as well. She’d been moved by the pretty bouquet of flowers she’d found in her room, and the other little touches that made his house feel homey.
Now that he explained what he’d been thinking with his food choices, Belle understood. Victor was a killer on the ice, a legit brute and one of the roughest players she’d ever seen. However, that tough exterior melted away whenever Pip cried, revealing a man who’d do anything to make the little girl happy. Which was why, after every FaceTime call between Pip and Vivian, he was right there, armed with a treat to help dissolve the tears that appeared after Pip said goodbye to her mom.
“Pip has been better after the last couple of FaceTimes,” Belle pointed out. “I think she’s getting adjusted. So we’d be smarter to return to the healthier meals before she falls into bad eating habits, like refusing last night’s green beans. Vivian will read us both the riot act if Pip suddenly becomes a picky eater who wants to live only on chicken nuggets.”
“Yeah. I have to admit, I thought Viv was crazy when she fed Pip crab and kale and hummus and avocados when she first started eating solid foods, but damn if it didn’t work. Pip’s less picky thanmewhen it comes to food.”
Belle laughed, aware that was an exaggeration, because she’d seen Victor eat. The man had a very healthy appetite, and she’d never noticed him turning his nose up at anything. Of course, given how many calories he burned during a game, it made sensethat he could plow through two full plates of food and still go back for dessert.
“I usually eat better myself, but I…” He shrugged. “I fucking hate it when Pip cries.”
“I know you do.” Belle reached over to place a hand on Victor’s forearm. She kept it brief, but even that platonic touch was enough to send her thoughts down very inappropriate paths.
Continuing to fantasize about Victor while living under his roof was a bad idea. Especially since he’d put her in the room right next to his. So much for taking advantage of the vibrator she’d packed. She would die of absolute embarrassment if Victor ever heard her using it, so it was sadly going to have to remain tucked away for the next three months.
Ugh.
She pointed to a jar she’d placed in the middle of the island her second night in his house. “Also, it doesn’t matter if Pip’s in the room or not, you still have to put a dollar in the swear jar.” Victor’s language was colorful, to say the least. And while he tried to control the number of F words he let fly around Pip, he wasn’t always successful.
Of course, Vivian struggled as well, a love of four-letter words clearly part of the Reed siblings’ genetic makeup. Belle had brought the swear jar from home, perfectly aware it would be needed.
The jar was one of Pip’s favorite things because—as long as sheneverrepeated any of the bad words her mom and uncle said—the money was used for special outings. The last time the jar hit a hundred bucks, Belle, Pip, and Vivian went to the Baltimore Aquarium.
