Читать книгу Whiskey Sharp: Jagged - Lauren Dane - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

VIC PULLED HER chair out and leaned in, taking a sniff at the back of her neck. “You smell like jasmine,” he said, joining her.

“It’s one of my favorite scents.”

His too, now.

“How was your day?” he asked her once they’d ordered and the wine had arrived. The small dining room was absolutely packed and he wondered if she’d be all right with that, but she didn’t seem to be having any difficulty.

He warred with himself over protecting her and leaving her alone and respecting however she wanted to handle herself. It was his nature to want to take care of people. He’d always been that way. But Rachel was a whole new problem. A whole new situation to try and figure out.

“It was weird. Saw an attorney. Then we went to the courthouse and got a temporary protection order for my father. We have to go back for a permanent one in two weeks after my dad gets served. That’ll be oodles of fun.”

He clinked his glass to hers. “You’re doing what you need to, to protect yourself. Not fun, but necessary.”

“It’s a huge waste of my time and it pisses me off.”

He sat back and took her in. “Okay then. Good.” He got the feeling she’d fight better and harder if she was pissed off. And what they’d done to her and Maybe was provocative and naturally she was upset.

“He’s a retired cop. He knows how to work the system. My attorney wanted me to be prepared. I hate that I have to be. Seth called to check in on me, which I thought was nice.”

“Once the Orlovs consider you family, you can’t escape us. Even fiancés and next-door neighbors,” he told her with a smile. “You think he’ll fight you on this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. He’s used to being obeyed. When we lived on opposite sides of the country and I was doing what he expected me to everything was fine. For me anyway. He and my mother were abusing Maybe and I didn’t know how bad it was.”

She ran a hand through her hair, exposing the delicate shell of her ear, and a nearly insurmountable need to touch it with his mouth hit him square in the head.

Thank Christ the charcuterie showed up so he had something to do with his hands—and mouth—before he hauled her close enough to do it.

“I heard the whole thing. On Sunday with your father,” he clarified. Her father had shown up angry, ripe for a fight. He’d savagely ripped into his children, trying to pit one against the other so he could control his eldest. So that he could jettison the youngest. Richie Dolan was a poor excuse for a human being and a shit father. “You can’t blame yourself for that. We talked about this yesterday morning.”

“No. You said I didn’t have anything to apologize for when it came to you seeing how my dad acted. Not that I didn’t protect my baby sister.”

Shadows then in her gaze and he knew she’d remembered those three women who’d died in that basement chamber of horrors as she’d been waiting, wondering when her time to die would come.

“Can I admit something?” he asked. He had to lean close to be heard because the place was full of noisy, happy diners. It lent a sort of privacy that even a more empty restaurant couldn’t offer.

She turned, her face close enough that he could really see her eyes. The amber fringe of color around the pupil. “Yes,” she said.

“Sometimes I’m not entirely sure how to talk about certain things with you. Not because you’re fragile or because I pity you. But I don’t want to stumble into something that brings up bad memories. So I apologize in advance for the times when I’m going to put my foot in it.”

She swallowed and then nodded. “You didn’t. Stumble into something. It’s always with me. What happened. It’ll never completely go away and that’s how it is. So yes, I didn’t protect Maybe from my father and I didn’t protect those women Price killed before they found me. But they’re not the same thing anyway.”

She busied herself with food awhile as they drank wine and were just together, but silent.

“I think he will fight. I think he will try to pull strings. I think he will hurt Maybe to get to me. I think he underestimates me and how far I’ve come. And I think he overestimates how good he was at his job when he compares his skills to mine,” she said at last.

Vic nodded his head. This was good too. She wasn’t going to let this stop her from living the life she’d worked so hard for.

And it was really fucking hot when she got mad and a little violent.

“Yeah? You were a hot shit FBI agent looking all tough and sexy as you brought down the bad guys. Your sister has sung your praises more than once.”

“Maybe is good for my ego.” Rachel shrugged. “I was good at it. Better than he ever was. And that never occurred to me until this mess. I was just glad they were proud. I simply had no idea that to them pride was such a poisonous thing. But he wanted to put me and Maybe in enemy boxes and all he managed to do was put himself there instead.”

“Is there no going back? Nothing he could do to fix this?” Vic knew it was easy to be in his place and make judgments about what she should do. He thought Richie Dolan was bad for his daughters. Toxic. He’d done and said things that seemed impossible to get past. But sometimes families did.

“I don’t think so. I can forgive a lot. But what they did to Maybe? And what they’re trying to do to me now? Take away my freedom. Cage me? No. And that they don’t seem to understand why that’s a problem? I feel like they should know me better. But I guess I didn’t know them very well either. No. There might be a time when I could be in the same room and not want to punch his face, but I don’t think I’ll ever be happy to see him again. He broke something important and some things can’t be fixed.”

“Some people can’t be fixed. He’s an adult. A parent. He makes his own choices. No one can look at you now and think you’re not in control of your own life, Rachel.”

“I’m outraged, you know? Like, how dare he try to do this to me? He’s disrespecting me and my life. My friends. My sister and best friend. Their daughter!”

He rather liked seeing her this way. Not that she was experiencing emotional upset—but the passion in her tone, the way she held herself, spine straight—it was bold and exciting. Intriguing and sexy as fuck.

“And now they’re here on this date in this seriously wonderful little bistro. I apologize,” she told him.

“You apologize too much for things you don’t own.”

“You brought me flowers again. Daffodils and larkspur. And pastry shaped like a heart. You’re bringing your A game.”

That pleased him. That she teased and opened up a little bit, sharing a private part of herself, though he hadn’t failed to notice her changing the subject about always apologizing for things other people did.

“I don’t do anything halfway,” he said of his courtship game.

“So, today I dealt with that stuff with my parents. The attorney is going to handle all the response to this conservatorship stuff as well. Then I went back to work, but on my way stopped at that little clothing shop between my bus stop and Ink Sisters. There was a sale. Always a good thing. So I then went to work, where they’d just ordered lunch including a burrito for me. Also a good thing. Then it was super busy until I got off work and met you at the curb. And now I’m here with you.”

He took her hand, turning it to kiss her wrist before letting it go. “And now you’re here with me. Which is most definitely the best thing in my day.”

“I’ve told you all about my day. Tell me about yours.”

He watched the deliberate way she moved, the choices she made, how she combined and tried new things as they arrived at the table.

“Work. Stayed after we closed to help with cookie baking for this group my mom and aunts are all into at the church. They bake and then take the stuff to all the older people who are on their own. Visit with them a little, you know? She sent me and Evie over here to the market to pick up some fruit. Then made me bake for them and drink tea. They were heading out when I left to come get you.”

“Of course all those babushkas wanted you to cook for them and make tea. I mean, look at you. Anyway, it’s nice. Your whole brood are just really nice people. Except Rada. She’s a jackwagon.”

Vic nearly choked at the mention of Alexsei’s ex, who had been less than friendly to Maybe. “To be fair, she did give him a head’s up about your sister looking like she might need help.” Rada was complicated. As Evie’s best friend, she’d been part of their family a long time. She’d been worried Maybe would push her out of the family for good since she and Alexsei had already been broken up for nearly a year.

“I didn’t say she was an evil master villain. But she’s not nice. I’m not nice either, it’s how some of us are.”

He thought about that for a bit. “I think you’re nice.”

“I do nice things sometimes. But I’m not nice. It’s not an insult. It’s just a personality type.”

“Huh. Okay, I’m going to ruminate over that awhile because I’m not sure if I agree or disagree. Were you... Never mind.”

“What? Was I nice before?” she asked the question he hadn’t known if he had the right to.

“Yes.”

“I think I did all the things I was expected to. I helped people in trouble in my job. I had a fiancé who had a very good job and very nice teeth.”

“Always important,” he said to make her snicker.

“Anyway, it was a good life. I don’t want to make it seem like before I was taken I hated my situation. It was a life I was happy in. And then something happened and turned it all upside down. A lot of things weren’t strong enough to survive the carnage. But some of those, like the fiancé, weren’t quite what I believed they were from the start.

“And after I’d come through it all, after everything insubstantial had burned away, I started a different life. And I wasn’t nice anymore.”

He ate as he got himself back together. She unraveled him. Not something he was entirely comfortable with.

“Okay. I can see that.” Though he thought she was pretty damned nice, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her what she felt and who she was. “What are you doing this weekend? I’ve got both days off and I was thinking of a hike up at Tiger Mountain. It’ll be cold, but clear. Have you hiked it?”

“No, but it’s on my list.”

“It’s not super strenuous, but a good workout. I promise to take it easy on you.”

She snorted. “How do you know you won’t need it the other way around?”

“Who says I want you to take it easy? Maybe I like it hard.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. Or maybe he did but he hadn’t meant it to sound so very suggestive.

But she wasn’t offended. Not at all, unless he was misreading the way her eyelids went half-mast.

“Perhaps I like it hard too.”

Holy shit. What the hell was he supposed to do with that image? Except think about how to make it reality.

“I think we need hot chocolate. And a fire,” he said around a suddenly thick tongue. “I even have the supplies to make whipped cream for it. I’ll walk you home afterward.”

* * *

SHE SHOULD HAVE said no but she didn’t.

Instead, he tucked her up on his couch and made them both hot chocolate with fresh whipped cream while she basked in the heat of the fire and watched him.

His house was the same sort of tri-level ranch house their neighborhood was dotted with, but with a modern touch. Dark wood floors with burnished steel. The overstuffed couch she was on was plush and deep green with nail head accents.

It was a decidedly chic, adult space. Classic. Sophisticated. He was way more than she’d expected. Her mistake really, she should have paid better attention. But naturally she got caught up in that face of his.

She was only human, after all.

“So tell me about your favorite tattoo lately,” he said as he joined her.

“That I’ve given?”

He nodded.

“I’m still giving it. A half sleeve. It’s a cardinal. Full color.” She indicated the way the bird lay around the curve and muscle of the upper arm. “Wings open. There’s a lot of fine line work with the feathers.”

“What about it makes you so proud of it?”

She thought awhile about the exact words to use. “It takes a steady hand. It’s scary at first when you’re inking someone. This is a big piece. A mistake is forever. I was nervous but since I just jumped and did it, it’s turning out really awesome.”

“You’re a risk taker.”

“Not so much anymore.”

“Making art is taking risk. You create something and throw it out there to rise or fall. That takes guts. And tattooing is forever. Well, there’s cover-ups and removal but you know what I mean.”

“I do.” She hadn’t thought of it like that but he was sort of right. “You’ve got the heart of a poet.”

“Evie says the same. I can’t see it.”

Without thinking about it, she reached out and pulled his hair free to tumble down. “You even have the hair and the face of a fallen angel.” It had been intended to tease but damn it if it wasn’t true.

“I tell myself I’m going to keep it slow and easy and then you go and say things like that. So delicious, right here under my nose for three years. You’d think after three years I’d have more chill, but I don’t.”

She drew a shaky breath. “I really shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be telling you all this stuff and thinking about how you kiss. There’s something about you, Vic. I say things I don’t intend to. I want things I shouldn’t. It scares the hell out of me.”

It was only the second date, but it was way deeper than that. They’d been developing a relationship for years and it seemed like now that they’d finally stepped into this new romantic thing between them, the intimacy had sharpened.

After years of living a very pared-down life, focused on herself and surviving, it was tender, nearly raw to let someone as close to her as she found herself doing with Vic.

“I’m not that person. I make good choices. I’m responsible. I pay my bills on time and I turn the water off when I’m brushing my teeth,” she told him.

He put his mug down, taking hers as well before turning back to her and enfolding her hands with his own.

“Are you suggesting I’m a bad choice?” he asked, teasing.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?”

He leaned closer, touching his lips to her cheek quickly. “You have an amazing butt and anything you wear makes it look great.”

“You’re not a bad choice.” Especially when he said stuff like that. “I’m just being weird. I did warn you. Let’s make out.”

His smirk told her he knew she was changing the subject and also that he was down with a lot of kissing.

He pulled her closer and then into his arms, crosswise over his lap. She squirmed just enough to get a lay of the land, so to speak.

Well now. There was some big country going on.

With a growl, he cupped her jaw, turning her to angle her mouth just how he wanted it. Their first kisses the day before had been sweet and sexy. But this...this was an utter devastation.

He nipped and nibbled, licked and sucked every part of her mouth until she was a warm puddle of purring woman, arms around his neck to keep from drowning in him.

He branded himself all over her. The heat of his hands—one splayed on her thigh, the other at her hip—seared. His taste burned itself into her memory so deep she knew she’d never forget.

A sexual fire within her burst into life, sending sparks of need through her as she urged him closer.

Yes. Fuck yes. More. More. More. She shifted her hold, fingers digging into his shoulders, holding him to her.

He hummed, as if she were delicious. “Gonna take a while to get down to the center of you,” he said against her lips.

She might have come just hearing those words.

Against her ass, his cock was hard and ready and big. All the protestations that she wasn’t a size queen flew out the window in the face of the very large penis that came along with this very hot Russian.

“I’m not going anywhere, so feel free to be thorough.”

He laughed, setting her back on the couch beside him. “I plan to spend a great deal of time on you, Rachel Dolan, with your wary eyes and that mouth that makes me weep.”

“I don’t want to make you weep,” she said, her lips quirking up into a smile. “Well, maybe I’d like to make you beg.”

He leaned in and stole a kiss that left her mouth swollen and tingly. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. I’m going to walk you home now.”

“Wait. What?” She looked at the clock, noticing it was already after eleven thirty. He had to get up early and she’d gotten all caught up in her hormones. “Later than I thought.”

He pushed his hair away from his face. “It’s not that. The occasional night where I don’t get at least six hours is fine. You’re worth it and I can always nap after work. I just want to take some time. I want you to crave me the way I crave you. And when we finally end up in bed—and we both know we will—it’s going to be mind-blowing. I like this stage. Full of anticipation. Discovery. I know your favorite color, but I didn’t know you’d like heart shaped pastry.”

“Who doesn’t like pastry in any shape? What are they? Monsters?”

“I like to sip and savor.” He stood and held a hand out. “You’re complex and layered, I’m going to enjoy you.”

She allowed him to pull her to her feet and then he helped her into her coat, again pausing on the porch to zip her up.

“I liked our second date,” she told him as they walked up her front steps.

“I did too. I think the third will be awesome as well.”

“I have high hopes,” she told him, deadpan.

Once they’d gotten inside it was to find Maybe and Alexsei were sprawled on the couch, all snuggled up and looking adorable.

“You get points for walking her in,” Maybe told Vic.

He bowed to her and then turned back to Rachel. “I’m sure I’ll see you before Saturday.”

“Chances are, yes.”

He bent and kissed her right there in her house and even though they’d just kissed for like forty-five minutes, it got her all starry-eyed again.

He and Alexsei blabbered on about something or other before he headed out and she pretended not to watch his progress from her bedroom window. Which worked until he turned, looked right up at her bedroom window and waved.