by R. E. Laurel
“Victor?” Teresa asked, “That is if you want to.”
“Oh most assuredly. I’m thankful for having Maren fall into my life and giving me the opportunity to see how a family who loves one another really act. And I’m thankful for this gorgeous cutie to help me begin to open my eyes to issues I would have never dreamed of seeing.”
He glanced around the table noticing the strange looks they gave him. “You wouldn’t understand unless you knew my family,” he muttered.
Soon the laughter flowed easily with everyone. It was obvious how well that Victor fit in. It was like he has been with her for years and true she felt so comfortable around him. They seemed to match like the flawless couple. She gave a sideways glance at him as he took in the second helping of everything. He acts like he almost never had a good home cooked meal.
“Victor, what does your family do?” Davis wondered, passing another bowl of vegetables around to the others.
“They dabble in real estate. Own businesses and others,” Victor vaguely replied.
“Oh! What kind of business? We have a vineyard that is very resourceful, along with a building in town that we use as a second shop,” Teresa explained, looking proud at Davis.
“Teresa,” Davis said, hating to be the center of attention.
“You worked hard to get the business to the name it is. It is a thriving business and Rick helps. Maren will be working there too now that she lost her job.”
Victor looked at Maren, noticing a slight scowl cross her features.
“Thanks to Mr. Neal the Sixth,” she sneered the name.
Victor nervously swallowed at her hateful tone of voice associated with his name. “As I and Stan said, the orders came from higher up the chain of command.”
Maren rolled her eyes at him, “why are you defending him? Just because you were saved?”
“I think the subject needs to be changed,” he politely suggested.
Teresa didn’t miss the tightness of his face before he spoke. “More stuffing?” She asked, handing him the dish.
The sudden shrill chirping filled the room causing them all to grab their cell phones to look at the screen on the front. Victor watched them all as if they’d gone crazed.
“What is it?” Maren asked, wishing hers wasn’t in her purse.
Rick sat back, “Whew. That major snow storm they have been talking about has been expanded to our area with a significant amount of snowfall, high windy conditions, and hazardous driving. The airports have been closed in the west stranding holiday travelers. It is heading this way. Should reach here in a couple of days.”
CHAPTER 14
It was mid-afternoon when the kitchen was finally cleaned and all the leftovers packed for the ‘kids’ to take home along with containers filled with the various cookies. After hugs and goodbyes being said, Victor drove them back to her home. The ride back was completely the opposite of earlier. The radio still played but there wasn’t any singing.
Victor looked at his hand that he casually laid on top of the gearshift and her hand resting on top. He couldn’t recall how any of this actually happened. How he was spending his time with Maren and not hanging on the beach with his friends. Then suddenly he meets her family and it all felt so relaxing. It wasn’t anything like being with his family. Each tried to outdo the other. Despite a few moments when he sensed her discomfort, the day went well. Shifting his gaze to her beautiful profile, he noted her brow furrowed. Deep in thought, he guessed, but in what?
“I can’t believe how much I ate today,” he groaned.
“Yea.”
“Your brother is such a character. He kept me in stitches.”
“Yea.”
“Your nephew Ted is a cutie pie. I enjoyed how much he wanted me to play with him.”
“Yea.”
Victor studied her face. She was definitely not involved with this conversation.
“Did you see when Ted walked into the kitchen and helped with the dishes and then he returned dancing the salsa before doing the disco dance before dropping down to do some break dance spinning?”
“Yea.”
“I have a lot of money but have never been happier than I am with you.”
“Yea.”
Victor shook his head trying to clear it. He was always one to get to the point. That was the President in him. “Hey, gorgeous. What’s going on? Did you hear what I just said to you?”
She blinked, returning to the present. “Did you say something?
“Yea, I said quite a bit.”
“Oh Vic, I’m so sorry. I guess I haven’t been myself today. I have a lot on my mind.”
“So I gather. Want to share what’s on your mind?”
“No, not particularly.” She gave her head a brief shake.
“How about your mom? What’s up with her googling about the necklace? You did say you’d tell me later.”
“Oh, that. She likes to learn things and is always researching. She’s the family historian so I suppose it’s in her blood,” she explained through a forced smile.
He nodded. “Something still bothering you?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot today about a few things.”
“Well, the best way to solve a problem is to face it or talk about it. If I can help solve whatever it is, then feel free to discuss it with me.”
“Sex.”
“Straight to the point, and?”
“Back in school when I’d overhear the popular girls saying they lost their virginity. And then they’d say where. For example, the back seat of a car. On the ground on a blanket. At a party in the boy’s bedroom. Out on the football field of all places. That all sounds so unromantic.”
He remained silent thinking of the place where he lost his. At a beach party. He and the very well-known girl in school walked away. He had sand everywhere on him and damn if it was uncomfortable. His chest shook with his chuckle at the memory.
“You finding this subject funny?”
“No, not at all. I was just thinking of my first time. It was not the best. A lot a fumbling around, being clumsy. She was four years older than I was and very experienced.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Unreal. And see? You had no idea what it was all about. You had no feelings at all just get it done and then brag it up to your friends.”
“Pretty much.”
Crossing her arms in disgust, she released a scoff.
The talking stopped for the remainder of the ride to her house. He kept looking at her, seeing the many facial expressions crossing that very pretty face he came to enjoy looking at. Smiling he pulled onto her drive to park around the back.
“Wait,” he ordered as he once again hurried to her side of the car to open the door for her.
“Thank you.”
She stepped out, stopping at his refusal to move. Looking up into his face, she couldn’t help but see the hint of desire darkening his pale blue eyes a shade.
“You’re so cute.”
Rolling her eyes, she followed him to help carry in the abundance of food her mom sent home. He helped her put away the hoard of food, grabbing an orange cookie in the process. She grinned at the little boy quality showing.
“Go on into the parlor, I can put this stuff away.”
“No, I can help.”
“Make some coffee or whatever you want,” she suggested, nodding in the direction of the sage and brown colored handmade pottery canisters sitting in the corner.
What I want would be you, he thought the desirous idea.
“I can’t believe what all I ate. I’m going to have to run an extra mile or two to wear it off,” he complained, grabbing another piece of fudge.
“Me too.”
“You run?”
“Yep. Helps to take a lot of stress out.” Maren leaned her buttocks against the counter, watching him work in her kitchen, and rather liked how he looked like he did this every day.
“I agree with you
on that and I have a lot of stress,” he confessed.
Maren poured their drinks and carried the mugs of steaming coffee and hot chocolate into the parlor and just set them onto the coasters on the coffee table.
“I need to place a few calls and do some fact checking.” He withdrew his cell phone while disappearing to the front of the house.
Maren watched him, with interest. He wasn’t acting like a mere manager of a men’s department. She slowly turned back to the window, watching the snowfall and thought too bad that storm wasn’t hitting now instead of later.
A short time later, Maren entered the parlor carrying a tray of assorted cookies. He was still talking on his phone as she set the tray on the coffee table. He looked up with a smile.
“Thanks, gorgeous.”
“Who the hell are you calling gorgeous?” Stan wondered.
“Maren.”
“Maren is now named Gorgeous? You have me speechless,” Stan stated, adding, “I’m stuck here on the beach with the bevy of babes but should be back this weekend.”
“Did you meet Miss Perfect yet?”
“Um.”
“You did say you were tired of the playboy life, as I recall.”
“Let's just say I’m picking up the slack since you’re not here. They’re hot and ready to go.” He let out a long, low whistle.
“It appears I’m more tired of it than you are. I was checking in on the storm and the store. Pending the closure on Monday for possibly a few days then?”
“Whatever you say. You’re the boss.”
“Hopefully, the roads should be passable in those days. I’ll talk to you later.” He laid his phone on the coffee table.
“Here you go, handsome,” Maren said, taking a seat on the couch next to him, bending her right leg beneath her and letting her left foot touch the floor as she faced him. She smiled at the stunned look he shot her.
“Handsome?”
She nodded. “You call me gorgeous.”
“You are.”
“As are you, handsome that is. Where is Stan?”
“The Bahamas. We go with a group every year but something more interesting came up, so I remained home.” Victor shifted on the cushion to move closer and matching how she sat so he could look at her.
“You should have gone if you had plans. You didn’t have to stay here just to go with me.”
“All we do is drink, party, have se....fun. There is more to life than all of that. A man has to take responsibility for himself and actions sooner or later. I guess it’s sooner for me.”
“Ah, but I feel bad now for being the cause of you not having se...fun.” She added with a knowing smile as she reached for the remote to turn the television on. Going to the weather channel they watched the huge swirling mass coming in from the lake and it looked like it wasn’t moving very fast. “Check out the snow amount for the whole storm.”
“Sixty-four inches? Do you want to know what would be hilarious? If I’d be here when it hits, and I get stuck with you at your house. A lot of time to get to know each other better, don’t you think.”
“Or watch a lot of The Christmas Story. It’s playing twenty-four seven.”
He took her hand in his to ease her nearer. “I’ve seen it,” he stated. Their eyes connected. “Come to me, Maren. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Victor laid back. Without hesitating, Maren easily followed appearing to be under his spell. Her hands gripped the arm of the couch as she gazed long onto his face. His eyes shifted to her eyes then her kissable mouth and back.
“Our drinks will be getting cold,” she helplessly whispered. Her nerves began to kick in. Her body was crying out for his touch and she had been fighting with it all day.
“We can reheat them. Christ, do you know how hard it’s been for me to be close to you all day and not be able to touch you like this, to kiss you in the manner I’ve craved?”
She shook her head, getting pulled further into his power.
“How, what manner? Like this?” she whispered, then her lips came down on his, tasting, nibbling, lingering, urging him to respond. She heard his groan, felt his arm wrap about her shoulder blades, his hand splayed on her face sliding to get lost in her hair. He deepened the kiss, slowly opening her mouth then the touch of his tongue on hers.
His lips left hers to trail kisses along her jaw until he reached the wild pulse beating at her neck. He felt her body pressing intimately against him as her head lifted to feel his mouth on her neck. She squirmed against his body, fighting to give in, fighting to give. The ringing of her cell stopped her. She struggled to get free from his strong grip.
“I need to get it. It could be my mom and she’ll just worry herself to death until she hears my voice,” she explained. Feeling him loosen his arms, she slipped onto the floor, reaching for her cell on the coffee table. Reclining against the couch, she pushed to accept and answered in a breathless voice.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Maren. How did the day go?”
“Belinda.” She glanced at Victor to see him lying on his side, watching her. She reached her arm out to lightly lay her hand on his forearm.
“Today went wonderfully. Did you expect less?”
Victor slid to the floor to sit next to her. Leaning in he began pressing playful kisses on her neck, nuzzling until she began to giggle. She placed a hand on his chest, trying in vain to ease him away but he remained persistent. Going on all fours, he easily pushed her over, following to lay on his side next to her.
“Stop it, that tickles!” She lightly squealed.
“What?” Belinda asked through a smile.
Victor slid his hand beneath her sweater, touching the warmth of her stomach.
“You can’t handle this.” He began to tickle her.
“No!” Her laughter rang out.
“Hey, did I just hear Victor?”
“Y-y-yes!” Maren answered through her giggle. “Vic, I am on the phone!”
He came to an instant stop, but his hand remained on her stomach. “Oops.”
“I’ll oops you, you monster.”
“Sounds like I’m interrupting something?”
“Let’s just say you have lousy timing,” Victor spoke into the phone.
“Vic! Why can’t you behave yourself?” Maren demanded, playfully slapping at his hand that began moving higher.
“I’m laughing just listening to you two,” Belinda giggled. “Guys? Maren? Victor?”
Victor pressed Maren against the floor, his mouth slanting over hers in a long kiss. The tenderness overwhelmed him, he was never this tender with anyone. He just went to get laid and ciao ladies. But with Maren, he felt different.
And he loved it.
He reached for the phone in her weakened grip, removing it to toss across the floor. His hand returned beneath her shirt, sliding along the warm stomach to cup a breast. His thumb moved across the firm mound bringing the nipple to a hardened peak. He felt Maren’s hands slide up his arms to lock behind his neck, refusing to release her hold as their mouths melded together in a French kiss. He moved away enough to speak with their mouths a breath apart.
“You taste sweet,” he whispered.
“It’s peanut butter fudge,” she answered, taking in a long shuddering breath.
He laughed, “You’re cute.”
“You’re handsome.” She squirmed beneath his partial weight, causing him to move so she could sit up. Deep inside she didn’t want the contact to end.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous. Did I do something?” Victor sincerely asked, concerned. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt this precious lady. He sat up next to her, bending one leg the other stretched out. He reached out, lightly touching her chin to force her to look at him. “Did I?”
He gazed long into her eyes, trying to read her mind by her expression and saw hesitance.
“Vic, this isn’t something I take lightly I mean it’s a lot for a woman to just give to someone her body in such an intimate way.”
“Oh, that would be something you’d say.” She kept her hand in his. “You're used to the kinds that will flaunt themselves in front of you or even just purposely throw themselves at you and you act upon that and well, have sex with them.”
“I’m not going to lie. True, I have done that but now all I’m saying is that I can’t help it if I find you so temptingly irresistible and I’m sorry if I upset you with my forward attentions but damn it, lady, I find you on my mind all the time. That is something others failed to accomplish.” He watched as her eyes began glistening. “Also, I’d never ask you to do anything you don’t want to. So, with that said, I think I’ll get a piece of the pie.”
Grinning at how easily he always managed to put her at ease, she let her hand slip from him as she silently watched him stand. He grasped their cups before he disappeared through the doorway towards the kitchen and realized that he was a rare find in the male specimen and none other she ever met ever made her feel as she was right at this moment. The moments he held her made her body desire more from him. His touch was magical, enticing, exciting, gentle and demanding all together and damn if she craved more of him, from him.
He returned with she swore half of the pie on a plate and their drinks reheated. She watched with amusement as he placed their cups on the coffee table and then sat next to her on the floor, without spilling a drop.
“I’m telling you, babe, this pie is way better than any I have ever eaten,” he paused, the fork laden with pumpkin pie held in the air in a toast to her. “Kudos to the chef.”
“Thank you but that is the easier kind to bake,” she explained as he took another bite. “Open the can and add the ingredients and place into the pie crust and bake.”
“You can sure open cans wonderfully.” He complimented.
She shook her head with wonder. “And, I’ve been thinking and yes, I tend to over think things.”
