Hannah picks up a crumpled napkin and throws it at Chelsea.
“You know it and we know it. It’s only a matter of time before you sleep with him.”
Hannah balks, but it doesn’t escape my notice that she doesn’t argue against Chelsea’s claim.
A bit later the doorbell rings. We’ve got the frosting made and Chelsea’s demanding she spread it, but the cakes are still cooling.
I open the door to find him in a light sweater and dark jeans. Casual and edible.
“Good afternoon.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out onto the porch then shuts the door. “They’re all in there, right?”
He pushes me against the side of the house, his hands already on my cheeks, his lips millimeters away from mine.
“Yeah.”
“That’s why we’re out here.”
His lips crash onto mine, his tongue sliding in through my parted lips. His knee wedges between my legs and grinds into my center. If we weren’t on the porch and I didn’t have a household of friends inside, I’d suggest a heavy make-out session in his car. Then again, Abe probably dropped him off.
Closing the kiss, I drag oxygen back into my lungs. Luckily, he continues to hold me up before I crumble to the ground.
“Sorry, I missed you.” He leans in and kisses my forehead.
“Don’t be.”
He keeps me in his arms, staring down at me with the loving look I’m slowly becoming addicted to.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
“I knew something was wrong.” He leads me over to the bench on my mom’s porch, my hand in his. “What’s up?”
“The case you won. Biggest case you’ve ever had?”
Just the mention of the case, a look of exhaustion crosses his face. “Not the hardest, but the biggest spectacle, yes. The most televised one for sure.” His hand fiddles with mine. “Why?”
“Is there a chance you might become district attorney in Chicago?”
He huffs. “No. The DA spot isn’t going to be up for a while here.”
“Like how long?”
“Why all the questions?” He leans forward to look into my eyes, as if the answer lies there.
I shrug. “Just curious.”
“Remember, I like how forthcoming you are. Just spit it out, Vic.”
“Is there a chance that you’ll be offered a higher position somewhere else and you’ll leave Chicago?”
His head falls down and his hand grips mine even tighter. Looking up from the corner of his eye, he nods.
He fucking nods.
I want to scream NO and run down my street refusing to believe that he’ll be gone.
“There’s a chance, but I might not. I mean no one’s reached out yet.”
“The case just ended yesterday.”
He nods again. “Yeah, but all I can say is that at this point, I haven’t been asked to go anywhere.”
“And if you are?”
He blows out a breath. “Honestly?”
I pull my hand from his grasp and tilt my head in a what-the-fuck-do-you-think, mannerism.
“I don’t want to think about it. I can’t stay assistant forever, there are things I want to achieve in my career but leaving Henry and you wouldn’t be easy.”
I can tell he’s thought about it which makes me think the possibility of him getting an offer is much higher than he’s implying.
“Did you sign those guardian papers for Henry?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. I have a friend looking over them first. I told Ned I’d let him know next week.”
“And if you move?”
He turns directly to me, gripping both my hands. “I don’t want to discuss this, Vic. If the time comes, we’ll talk about it of course, but that time is not now, and I feel like this is all wasted breath. You’re getting upset when nothing’s happened and here’s me trying to figure out how to keep everything I love together. When in reality, the call might never come.”
I stare down at our joined hands in my lap. Sensible Reed has made his appearance and talked me off the ledge.
“It’s Jade’s birthday. Let’s enjoy it. Worry about this shit later.”
I smile, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest. Calm quickly replaces the tension with just the scent of his cologne.
“One more thing.” I stare up at him, shooting him my best innocent eyes. “Pete’s coming to dinner.”
He rolls his eyes. “Great.”
He stands, takes my hands and pulls me up. “Now, let’s enjoy the day.”
“Okay. I should get in there before Chelsea decorates Jade’s cake all by herself.” I head to the door, his hand in mine.
“That’s a bad thing because?”
“Because I make her cake. I’m her mom.”
He nods, but I can tell he clearly doesn’t understand a mother’s right to complain about having to do something while insisting on doing it herself at the same time. It’s a mom thing.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Do you want me to grab Henry?” I ask Reed, staring at his ass bent over in the bathtub.
“No, I’m almost done. It wasn’t that hard.” He stands up, pulling on the bar. Then he pretends to sit down in the tub and pull himself up.
“I never would have thought you could do that.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You thought I was too white-collar, did you?”
He steps out secure in the fact the grab bar will hold my mom’s weight if she needs it and stalks toward me.
“A lawyer. Winnetka. Rich boy.” I flip up my fingers counting the reasons off.
He reaches me, tickling my ribcage until he gets me right where he wants me, in his arms.
“Maybe I should have worn my tool belt?”
I wiggle to get free. “That and no shirt. You’d look much manlier. Maybe Ned can help you out.”
His fingers dig deeper until he’s got my hands over my head and his body has me pressed against the wall. He trails his nose along my neck and up to my ear—back and forth, a painful arousal building deep inside me.
“I think you know how manly I am,” he whispers sliding his other hand up my shirt, cupping my breast over my bra.
“Someone could come,” I whisper.
“Tell me how manly I am.”
“You’re manly.”
“You don’t sound convincing.” His fingers pinch my nipple and I push into his touch, unable to stop myself.
“Your manhood is so manly I’m sore for days.”
He hems and haws. “I need more information.”
“Well, counselor, I’m not sure what you’re looking for.”
Another tweak of my nipple and I moan.
“Shh… you’re going to get us caught. Now, where were we?” His fingers pull down the cup of my bra. “Tell me.”
“You’re so manly that I bet you can fix my bed.”
“What’s wrong with your bed?” he asks while he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, like he’s playing a game.
“It doesn’t squeak.” I pretend to pout.