Page 36 of A Family Affair: The Vow
So, why couldn’t he be attracted to Monica and not the she-wolf who refused to admit she feltanythingfor him? Sometimes karma really did come back around and bite you. Maybe the Man Upstairs found it humorous to toss him in a situation with a woman who didn’t want or need him to breathe.
“I brought you something.”
Monica “brought him something” at least once a week: cookies, muffins, a six-pack of his favorite beer, a new T-shirt. He wished she’d stop, but even suggesting it made her tear up. So, he accepted the gifts and apologized for the insensitive behavior. Vic glanced at the container, bet they were chocolate chip cookies since he’d mentioned having a taste for them. “Let me guess.” He raised a brow. “Chocolate chip cookies.”
The tiny squeal said he’d guessed right. “Just for you,” she murmured, her voice a mix of sugar and sultry. Monica opened the container, removed a cookie, and held it out for him to take a bite.
What could he do other than lean in and bite the damn thing? A nod, a smile as he chewed and contemplated how to get her to leave. He glanced at his watch, noted Rae had been in the other room almost half an hour. “Delicious, as usual.” Vic stuffed the rest of the cookie in his mouth, chewed so hard his jaw hurt. It was time for Monica to leave because any minute now—
“Excuse me, Vic?”
Rae stood just outside the doorway, no doubt formulating an opinion that he and Monica had a “thing” going on. Let her think what she wanted, let her think he was sleeping with Monica, even though they’d been over for three months. In fact, he hadn’t been with anyone since then, until Rae. She’d never believe that one. “Rae, this is Monica Whitmore, baker of extraordinary chocolate chip cookies and the best sixth-grade science teacher in Magdalena.” Vic smiled at Monica, let his voice dip just enough to make her blush. “Monica, this is Rachel Darlington.” Pause and a casual “She’s come back from Virginia to help run her parents’ place while Leah recovers.”And she’s set up house in my brain.
“Goodness, but I’ve heard all about you. I’m so very sorry to hear about Leah.” More blushing, a nod and the softest “She’s such a nice woman. I got to know her when we worked together on the annual flower planting in the park a few years back. That woman is an organizer, had the whole bunch of us from the Bleeding Hearts Society working like we were on a production line. It was pretty fantastic and we got so much done!”
Monica was a sweetheart but she was a talker, said it was her way to help other people relax. Vic tried to tell her that incessant chatter didn’t relax everyone and had she ever considered she did it to relaxherself? She hadn’t liked that comment and that’s when the tears started, so he’d shut up and changed the subject. But he wasn’t going to let her spill everything in her brain to Rae because who knows what might gush out? “I think Rae knows how valuable her sister is and how much we want her to get well.” He reached for the container of cookies, tucked it under his arm. “Thanks for the cookies.”
“Of course.” She linked her arm through Vic’s, smiled up at him as though she thought he was her very own sunshine. “Anything for you.” Another smile, this one wider, more inviting. “Mom’s making lasagna on Sunday and a chocolate cream pie. She asked me to invite you.”
Of course she did because Susannah Whitmore had pegged him as husband material for her daughter the first time he met her. And the woman didn’t want to accept the truth: whatever had existed between himself and Monica was over and it had never been about marriage. Susannah could make trays of lasagna, pork tenderloin with au gratin potatoes, or a whole turkey dinner, but that wasnotgoing to turn him into husband material for her daughter. As for Monica, she said she understood, was okay with them being friends or anything as long as she could still see him, but he should have known a guy couldn’t maintain a friendship with someone he’d slept with... And Monica’s next words told him why.
“Come for dinner.” She leaned on tiptoe, placed three tiny kisses along his jaw, brushed a finger over his lips as though they were the only ones in the room...as though she thought there could still be something between them. “You won’t regret it. I promise.” Then she turned to Rae. “When you talk to Leah, please let her know I’m praying for her.”
Rae nodded. “Thank you.” She stepped aside to let Monica pass, waited until she disappeared out the front door before she settled her gaze on Vic.
Was that anger or hurt he spotted in those honey-brown eyes? Maybe both? “So, that was Monica.” Vic cleared his throat, grabbed the first thing that flitted through his brain. “Her mother was a teacher, too. Geometry. I think Josh had her in his class.” More throat clearing. “She retired a few years ago, works part-time at the flower shop.”
“I see.”
“Uh-huh.” He clutched the damn container of cookies like they were his oxygen, waited for her to say more. Of course, she wasn’t going to ask him about Monica, no matter how bad she wanted to know. “Don’t you want to ask me about Monica?”
The scowl said she’d bite her tongue before she asked him one word about the woman. “What’s to ask? I can see she’s beautiful and very sweet.” Long pause, followed by a clipped “Quite devoted to you, too. No worries she’ll ever call you out on less-than-stellar behavior.” A tiny huff and a shake of her dark head. “She thinks you’re some sort of god.” There wasn’t even a hint of warmth in her smile. “You make a nice couple.”
That’s all she had to say?Talk about avoiding a situation. Vic set the container of cookies on top of a file cabinet, moved toward her. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t make assumptions about people and situations when you don’t have all of the information. Ever think that maybe you should listen more and stop drawing conclusions?”
“I listenedandI heard every word.” She thrust her chin up, crossed her arms over her chest. “It wasn’t too difficult to understand the language—spoken and unspoken.”
Vic took a step closer. “Monica and I aren’t together. It was over months ago.”
“Guess you forgot to tell her.”
“I told her, but people have different interpretations of what they hear.” He met her gaze, held it. “She’s still after the whole picket fence and thinks I’m the guy who’ll give it to her. Her mother thinks so, too; that’s why I get the dinner invitations and sweets. But it doesn’t matter if she fixed me filet and lobster for the next twenty years, it’s never going to happen.” His gaze inched to her lips, zeroed in on them. “Not possible.”
“And why is that?”
He didn’t miss the extra breath in her voice, a mix of desire and anticipation. Vic should not touch her. He should step back and shove his hands in his pockets—out of reach. But of course, when had he listened to reason where Rachel Darlington was concerned? Never, and that was the problem. He took a step closer, cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “She’s not the one, not for me.” When he leaned in to brush his lips against hers, she sighed. Yeah, she could deny the attraction all she wanted, but it was there: red hot, not going away. “If you don’t want me to see other women, why not just ask?”
Rae pushed him away, anger smothering her expression. “Why would I do that when we both know that sort of commitment is impossible for you to keep?”
Was she serious? “I wasn’t the one who came to town three years ago looking for a hookup, was I?”
“No, but you were the one everybody knew was the most available, no strings, no expectations.”
“Nice.” So, they were back to that. Sex without the rest of it? No relationship, no commitment, nothing past the next hookup. He’d actually been idiot enough to think she’d see a different side of him as she spent more time with him. Maybe she’d see the side that wanted her, not just for a night, or a week, but for good. But she wasn’t going to see that because she still thought of him as a distraction she could enjoy when she wanted to relax and get away from real life.
“That’s not what I meant.” Pink swirled from her cheeks to her forehead.
“Sure, whatever.” Vic shrugged, forced a tight smile. “No big deal.” He headed toward his desk and the inventory that would prove the savior to his sanity.
