Belle thought herself well-versed in Victor’s scowls, able to understand the nuances behind every single one, but this one was, by far, the darkest and most intense she’d ever seen.
While Belle had plenty of brothers, none of them had ever displayed the slightest bit of protectiveness toward her, so she wasn’t sure how to set Victor’s mind at ease. If Vivian was here, she’d simply slap her brother on the back of the head and tell him to knock it off. That was what she always did whenever Victor flexed those big brother muscles at her, but their relationship hadn’t reached that level of comfort.
She wasn’t sure it ever would, because regardless of how much she appreciated Victor’s concern for her well-being, she’d never be able to think of him in a brotherly manner.
Her girlie bits lit up like the Fourth of July whenever they were together, so yeah…she’d never be able to think of him as a brother. Especially not after that post-kiss orgasm he’d inspired the night before last.
That kiss…
While she almost believed him when he said it had been a lapse in judgment, every now and again—like now, when he really did seem jealous—she found herself questioning his feelings. The optimist ran strong though her veins.
“Can I ask you something?”
He nodded in response.
“Are you protective of me?” She should have let the question end there, but the reckless part of her that still wanted that kiss to mean something added, “Or territorial?”
Victor froze, going so perfectly still, he could have been carved from stone.
She shook her head, instantly suffused with guilt. “Never mind. Stupid question. Forget I asked.”
Victor hesitated, and for a moment, she wondered if he was going to answer her anyway.
“I want you to be safe. You’re important to my family,” he said in a careful tone that told her that was as much as she was going to get. And it was enough, because he’d answered the question. Just not the way she’d hoped.
“I’ll be sure to give you more of a heads-up before my next date,” she said quickly, in an attempt to reverse course. While she’d known about the first date with Sean a couple days prior, she’d been too nervous to mention it to Victor, so she’d left it too long.
“You don’t have to,” he said. “I don’t have any nightly plans for the foreseeable future, and you know my workout schedule.”
She did. He’d printed off a copy of his summer postseason training times the first week she was here, letting her know those were the only times he wouldn’t be around to help with Pip.
She lifted one shoulder casually. “I’ll still make sure to let you know a couple days in advance, just in case something comes up that you want to do…or maybe there’s someoneyouwant to go on a date with?” She was fishing in the least subtle way imaginable, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
Victor hadn’t gone out on a date since she and Pip moved in, and Belle couldn’t help but wonder about that. Was he curbing his dating so that he could remain close to home for Pip, or did he just not date? He’d never had a girlfriend in the entire time she’d known him, which seemed to confirm Vivian’s assertion that her brother was determined to die a bachelor.
And Vivian wasn’t happy about that. Vivian had dropped name after name of women she thought he might like, handing over phone numbers and suggesting he call them. As far as Belle knew, Victor hadn’t followed up with any.
He scowled. “I don’t date.”
Well, guess that answered her question definitively.
“Why not?” Belle shook her head, trying to backtrack. “Sorry. Again, that’s none of my business.”
Victor took a drink of his beer, and she figured they’d definitely drift into the no-talking part of their evening. So when he spoke again, she jerked a little, not expecting it.
“I used to date,” he confessed, not looking at her. “Had a serious girlfriend for a time. Amelia.”
Belle never knew that. Which was slightly surprising, because Vivian had shared countless stories about Victor over the years, her big brother one of her favorite subjects. Belle was certain no sister was prouder of her sibling than Vivian. And given the stories she’d told Belle, she understood why.
Not that Belle needed the stories to know how great Victor was. He revealed who he truly was through his actions. In the way he built blanket forts with Pip like they were Frank Lloyd Wright-level architecture. How he never failed to show up to Pip’s dance recitals in a suit, even though he’d come straight from practice. How he didn’t always manage to school his features, softening every time Pip crawled onto his lap, kissed his cheek, and told him how much she loved him.
Since Victor had opened the door, Belle decided to walk through it. “What happened between you and Amelia?”
“My career happened.”
Belle frowned, confused. “What?”
“We dated for just over two years. She even moved in here with me for the last year of our relationship. I thought she was the one.”
