Chapter 2 #5
That thought resonated, and she acknowledged the way he cared about Pip was the real reason Victor was so dangerous to her when it came to guarding her heart.
They finished the rest of the shopping trip with only two more minor debates.
The first was about whether cookies counted as “emergency snacks”—another of Pip’s opinions that had been formed by her mother.
Vivian was famous for her belief that no household should ever be without ginger ale and saltines for sickness, and cookies for emergencies.
The second was waged between Belle and Victor as they argued which was the better breakfast food—waffles or pancakes. That one was declared a draw when they bought a mix that made both.
By the time they reached the checkout counter, Pip was humming to herself while stacking items on the conveyor belt in what she insisted was the correct order.
Victor paid, gathered the bags, and steered the cart toward the exit.
Outside, the late-morning sun cast a soft golden glow that made everything look warmer than it actually was.
Belle preferred June’s milder weather to the humidity of July and August. Though she suspected she wouldn’t mind the heat nearly as much this summer, as she and Pip planned to make daily use of Victor’s pool.
They loaded the bags into the trunk of his car and Belle slid into the passenger seat once Pip was secured in the back. The drive home was filled with Pip’s occasional chatter and questions, while Belle flipped through the radio, quietly singing along to the songs.
Victor alternated between responding with quiet, patient answers to Pip, and giving Belle a hard time for getting a lot of the lyrics wrong.
When they got back to the house, Victor and Belle carried the groceries inside while Pip ran ahead to supervise. Within minutes, she was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Reese’s Puffs for lunch like it was the greatest victory of her life.
Victor leaned against the island, arms crossed. “You’re going to crash from all that sugar in thirty minutes.”
“Worth it,” Pip said with her mouth full.
Belle laughed as she washed strawberries at the sink.
The rest of the day passed just as quickly as the ones preceding it. She and Victor had fallen into an easy routine, and while she’d had some reservations about moving in here for three months, she could see her anxiousness had been for naught.
After dinner and an extremely serious conversation about whether swimming in the pool counts as “bath time,” Pip finally climbed into the tub.
Once she was in her pajamas, Victor sat on the edge of her bed, pulling the covers back for her.
“Story,” Pip demanded.
Victor reached for the worn hardcover of The Day the Crayons Quit.
Part of their unspoken routine was that Belle covered the bath shift, while Victor handled the story and tucking in part.
She turned the light off in the en suite bathroom, pausing as she watched Victor open the book—Pip’s favorite—without hesitation, even though he’d already read it the past six nights in a row.
When the story ended, Pip yawned widely.
“Teeth brushed?” Victor swept the hair from Pip’s forehead affectionately, the gesture so gentle it made Belle’s chest ache.
“Yes.”
“Night, squirt.”
“Night, Uncle Vic. Night, Belle.”
Belle crossed the room and placed a soft kiss on Pip’s forehead. “Night, Pipsqueak.”
Victor pulled the duvet around the girl’s shoulders and turned off the lamp. Then the two of them stepped out into the hallway together.
“You’re good with her,” Belle said softly.
Victor shrugged. “She’s easy to love.”
“It was nice of you to take her—us—in for three months.” Belle had spent the last month thinking about how Vivian’s trip would impact her life, but she hadn’t considered what it would do to Victor’s as well.
“I’d do anything for Viv and Pip.”
Belle knew that, just as she couldn’t help but feel envious, wishing her name was on that same list. Hell, she’d be happy to be on anyone’s list in that capacity. As the youngest of nine kids, her parents had been well over child-rearing by the time she came along.
After years of watching Victor with Pip, her crush—which at first had been driven mostly by hormones—had shifted to something warmer, softer, and far more dangerous.
Victor cleared his throat. “I’ve got some paperwork and shit to do in my office.”
She nodded. “Okay. I think I’ll just head to my room. Read my book. Be sure to drop a dollar in the swear jar on your way by. Disney World’s not going to pay for itself.”
Victor snorted, then his gaze lowered to her lips. Before she could think better of her actions, she ran her tongue over the lower one.
Neither of them moved, and for a brief second, the space between them felt…charged.
Then Victor stepped back. “Good night, Belle.”
“Good night,” she said, watching as he turned and walked downstairs.
Belle stayed in the hallway for a moment longer. Her heart felt oddly full. And unsteady.
Because the truth was becoming harder to ignore.
Victor wasn’t just Pip’s uncle. He was a man who paid attention, who showed up, who opened his home without hesitation.
And somewhere in the past couple of years, Belle had started looking at him differently, less fixated on the sexy hair, incredible body, and deep, commanding voice that sent her fantasies to very dirty places.
Sexual attraction was one thing. Because she was an adult and fully capable of keeping a firm grip on her desires.
But the warmth spreading through her chest right now?
It was something else entirely, and she had a feeling it was only the beginning.