The problem was, that was only true…
For now.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Belle followedVictor into his bedroom, resisting the urge to pinch herself. After too many years of dreaming of this moment, it was hard to believe it was truly real.
Her date tonight with Sean had been okay. He was a nice man, but there hadn’t been any sparks, no fireworks. He’d offered her a kiss as they stood by her car in the parking lot, and that was when she realized things between them were going nowhere. Because she wasn’t even sure she could call Sean’s buss a kiss after the three whoppers Victor had laid on her. It was like drawing a comparison between a butterfly and a box of tissues. They didn’t exist on the same plane. At. All.
When Sean suggested another date, she’d come clean rather than allowing things to continue when there was no chance of their relationship evolving. She was in love with a man she couldn’t have, and while she’d thought dating other men would help, it had only served to show just how hopeless her situation was.
Sean had taken her rejection with good grace, wishing her well, and that had been that.
She’d driven home, prepared to treat herself to another Victor-fantasy-fueled orgasm, not even concerned if he heard her this time. She was in desperate straits, so she’d cover her face with a pillow if necessary to mute the sounds.
What she hadn’t anticipated was Victor waiting for her. After the way things ended in the kitchen, she figured he would make sure to be out of sight before her return.
She wasn’t sure what had changed in his mind, what had convinced him to take things to the next level with her, and honestly, she probably should have asked.
But then, he’d dropped another one of those mind-blowing kisses on her, and she’d decided she didn’t give a shit. He wanted her, she wanted him, and talking was overrated.
She understood his concerns about the two of them hooking up. She got it, she truly did. Part of what she adored most about the man was how much he loved his niece and sister, how he put their needs and happiness above his own. It was selfless and wonderful and just…so Victor.
Obviously, they’d taken a big risk tonight by sleeping together, and they were compounding that by her climbing into his bed now.
However, caution had flown out the window, along with his reasons for holding back, and Belle didn’t want to invite either back in.
For the first time in years…
No.
For the first timeever, she felt like she was right where she was supposed to be. So she wasn’t going to question this thing or talk it to death. They’d taken the next step, and all Belle wanted to do was keep walking the path with him, desperate to see where it led.
Despite living here for seven weeks, she’d never seen the inside of Victor’s bedroom. It was a huge space, neat, clean,everything in its place. One of the first things she’d learned about Victor after moving in was that he was a bit of a clean freak. Not in an annoying way but in a “there’s a place for everything and everything in its place” kind of way. She liked that because she was the same. After so many years of living in an apartment approximately the size of a postage stamp, she’d learned that organization and well-labeled storage tubs were her friends.
Her eyes widened as she took in the neutral colors and elegant furnishings—the navy-blue duvet on the large king-size bed, the frame made of dark wood that matched the dresser and armoire. The nightstands were uncluttered, with only an ornate lamp on each, along with a book and phone charger resting on the surface of one. The bed was made and there were no random piles of clothing on the floor or draped over the large, overstuffed reading chair that sat next to a window.
The lighting was soft, provided by the bedside lamps, creating a calm glow rather than a harsh brightness from an overhead light.
The door to his walk-in closet hung open, allowing her to see that his tidiness carried over to that space as well, his clothes all hung up or neatly folded into cubbies, with like items stacked together. At a glance, she could see which shelves held the sweatshirts and T-shirts, and she was impressed by just how many suits he had, all of them hanging and organized by color.
“Victor. Your room is beautiful.”
He smirked, probably because she’d spoken with a smidge of surprise. Part of her had wondered since moving in if he was taking special pains to keep the parts of the house she and Pip occupied tidy just for their stay, if he was really a closet-slob, and that was why the door to his bedroom was always closed.
“I’d like to pretend this was all me, but the truth is, Viv decorated my room right after I moved in. She was home for thesummer, missing Mom and Dad, and I thought it would offer her a distraction from the grief. So I gave her a budget and told her to go wild. She did an amazing job.”
Belle nodded. “She certainly has an eye for design. Her own house could be in magazines.”
“She got that from my mom. Mom had subscriptions to God only knows how many home décor magazines. Our mailbox was always filled with the latest editions ofBetter Homes and Gardens, Southern Living,andReal Simple. Vivian liked looking at the magazines as much as Mom, and they were forever dog-earing pages with ideas of things they wanted to do in our family home. Dad and I were always handed one of those damn magazines with a page marked to use as our “guide,” whenever they roped us into repainting or moving furniture or shit like that, to make it look like the pictures.”
“I understand why one of your Christmas gifts to Viv is always a subscription toReal Simple.”
Victor shrugged. “I know she doesn’t look at them like she used to. She even admitted to me once she hated that I kept spending money on it, since she never has time to read it, but…”
“It’s a way to honor your mother’s memory.”
He blinked a couple times before nodding. “Exactly. She didn’t want me wasting money, but she also didn’t want me to stop. I could tell.”
