Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Belle walked outside with a glass of wine in hand, drawing in a slow, deep, steadying breath, as she tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing.
Her head had been spinning since Victor’s unexpected—and oh-so-fucking hot—kiss two nights earlier. He’d claimed it was a mistake, and she could tell from his expression he’d genuinely believed it.
Though she couldn’t understand how.
How the hell could he be a part of that kiss and not think it was the most amazing, perfect, right thing on the planet?
Belle had been kissed before by at least a half dozen different guys, and some of those kisses had been really good.
However, none of them—not a single one—came close to the way Victor kissed.
Holy shit.
It had honestly felt like she was going to spontaneously combust.
When he pulled away, it had physically hurt. Her body had been that turned on and ready.
Just. From. One. Kiss.
That had never happened to her before.
But then he’d pushed her away, apologized, and left her so confused and horny, she had no choice but to walk away. The kiss had blindsided her so much, she’d known the smart thing to do was to take some time to try to figure out not only what had driven it but the abrupt ending.
However, before she could consider his actions with any semblance of logical, coolheaded thinking, she’d been forced to pull out her vibrator and take care of business.
Mercifully, Victor had remained in the living room, because her orgasm had struck hard and fast and a little louder than she’d intended. She’d never come so quickly, and while the climax had taken the edge off, the effects were short-lived.
For the past two days, she’d walked around like a live wire, her body—even her skin—feeling electrified, sparking and sizzling. She and Pip had spent a lot of time yesterday and today in the pool, simply because Belle needed the water to stay cool.
Also, her assurance that she’d accepted Victor’s apology for his impetuous kiss didn’t seem to take. He’d made an art form out of avoiding her ever since.
Yesterday, he’d opted to do his workout at the training facility, even though it was typically a day when he would have used his home gym.
Then he’d texted to say he was having lunch and drinks with his coach.
He’d arrived home in time for dinner, but rather than spend time in the kitchen cooking with her and Pip, as had been their routine, he’d shown up with pizzas.
Pip had been delighted when he announced they were going to eat dinner in front of the TV, watching her favorite movie, Moana.
The movie was a clever way to avoid conversation and eye contact—and Belle had hated every minute of it.
Tonight, he’d continued to evade her by inviting several of his teammates over for a cookout. With a dozen Stingrays players and their significant others around, Victor had managed to give her a very wide berth, the two of them exchanging fewer than a dozen words.
Everyone had left half an hour ago. Victor had suggested he clean up while she handle Pip’s bedtime routine. She’d expected Victor to escape to his bedroom afterward, just as he had last night after the movie, so she was surprised to hear the back door to the patio open.
Glancing outside, Belle spotted him in his usual Adirondack, sitting by the pool, a bottle of beer on the table beside him.
She hovered by the window for a full five minutes, trying to decide what the smart move was. It was obvious he was trying to avoid her because he regretted the kiss. While that hurt—a lot—she hated the distance between them even more.
So, she quietly walked downstairs and poured herself a glass of wine before stepping outside to join him.
Victor glanced up when she walked past him.
“You started without me,” she said softly, infusing her words with as much playfulness as she could muster.
“I thought you might be too tired,” he said. “It was a busy day.”
It had been. When Victor announced he was hosting the cookout and swim party, things had shifted into overdrive as he’d gone to the store to buy food, while Belle remained behind with Pip to organize things in the backyard.
However, they both knew that wasn’t why he hadn’t invited her to join him tonight.
“Not sure sitting and relaxing with a glass of wine is tiring,” she said, claiming her usual spot, hoping to find a way to get the two of them back to normal. “Victor,” she started.
He raised his hand, stopping her. “I’m sorry, Belle.”
She frowned, hoping he wasn’t apologizing for the greatest kiss of her life again. “I told you—”
“I don’t mean for the kiss,” he interjected.
“I mean, I am sorry for that. But this time, I’m apologizing for the past couple of days.
I’ve left too much of Pip’s care to you.
I just thought maybe you’d be uncomfortable spending time with me after…
” Victor shrugged, letting the gesture finish his sentence.
“I’m not uncomfortable around you at all.”
He gave her a rueful grin. “I’m glad.”
“I hope you aren’t uncomfortable around me,” she added, praying the easy rapport they’d established hadn’t been completely wrecked.
His brows furrowed. “No, I’m not. I’m glad you came out to join me.”
She smiled. “I’ve missed our nightly chats the last couple of days.”
Belle’s heart skipped a few beats when Victor graced her with one of his all-too-rare smiles.
“Half the time, we sit here in silence, Sunshine,” he said.
She giggled, his use of her nickname proof that things were going to be fine between them. “Well, I’ve missed that too. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Pip tends to fill any and every room she enters with noise.”
Victor chuckled, and she tried to hide how delighted she was to hear it. Five minutes in, and she’d gotten a smile and a laugh. It was a big night.
“She gets that from her mother. Vivian was the same way as a kid. If she had a thought, everyone in a five-mile radius heard it.”
Belle nodded in agreement. “Viv hasn’t changed much. Though it’s probably safe to say Pip inherited a fair share of her chattiness from Phil too.”
Victor’s smile faded slightly, as it always did whenever Phil’s name was mentioned. He’d confided that he had loved his sister’s husband like a true brother, and Belle could tell Victor missed the man as much as Vivian did.
Hell, Belle missed him, and she hadn’t been anywhere near as close to him as Vivian and Victor. Phil had a way of lighting up a room with his positive energy and infectious laugh, both things he’d genetically passed on to his daughter.
“I’m glad you knew Phil,” Victor said after a moment. “Glad you’re able to tell Pip about him.”
It wasn’t uncommon for Pip to ask questions about her father, and at least once a week, she pulled out the small photo album Vivian had given to her for Christmas this year, flipping through the pages to look at pictures of him.
“I’m glad I knew him too. He was an amazing person. He changed my life when he offered me the nanny job. I can’t even begin to imagine where I’d be right now if he hadn’t. Probably working long-ass days for minimum wage with no hope of escape.”
“You’re a smart woman. You would have found a way to improve your future even without Phil’s help.”
She smiled at him, so touched by the compliment, her throat closed.
He acknowledged her appreciative look, then took a drink of his beer before turning his attention away, glancing toward the pool.
She followed suit, sipping her wine, looking across the yard without really focusing on anything.
For two days, she’d obsessed over Victor’s kiss, wishing it hadn’t ended the way it had.
Originally, she hoped he’d been driven to it by jealousy.
She was the queen of wishful thinking, after all.
But she could see now, it was just as he’d said.
A lapse in judgment driven by the fact they’d been living in close quarters and essentially co-parenting.
Their relationship had always been one of not-quite-friends but more-than-acquaintances. That had changed this summer, the two of them making the leap to a genuine friendship.
She loved that as much as she hated it. Because getting to know Victor better and spending so much time with him was only making this ill-fated attraction of hers more powerful.
Belle had become accustomed to them sitting in quiet companionship, their conversations typically brief between longer periods of self-reflection. So, she was surprised when Victor broke the silence.
“What’s Belle short for?” he asked, his dark eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “Isabelle?”
Belle sighed, because she really hated that question. “No. Not Isabelle. I wish,” she said under her breath.
“You wish?”
She darted a glance in his direction before looking away again.
She’d never liked her name. Never. “Mom had used up all the girl names she liked before I came along. So she decided to name me after her two favorite aunts.” She bit her lower lip, hoping Victor would take that nugget of information and let it lie there.
Of course, he didn’t.
“And what were your great-aunts’ names?” he prompted.
“Clara and Belle.”
Victor frowned briefly before the tiniest bit of amusement crept into his dark chocolate-brown eyes.
She narrowed hers in response. “You don’t have to say it aloud.”
A wise woman would have realized those words were tantamount to a dare, especially when Victor’s smile grew so wide, she wondered if it was hurting his face…considering those were muscles he rarely used.
“Your name is Claribel?” he asked, going on to spell it the traditional way, which was wrong.
Now, it was her turn to scowl. “Not that spelling. Apparently, my mom and dad saw no problem with hooking those two names together, so they decided to spell it like the Disney cow. Clarabelle,” she replied, spelling it back to him correctly.
Victor’s smile faded, his expression growing more thoughtful. “I like it.”