Like a Fox (7 page)

Chapter 10

It’s been five days since Vic left and I’m physically aching from his absence. I’m frightened by it, as I am with everything that Vic is doing to me. I’ve preoccupied myself with the business, books, and silly girl time with Liza; being around her is always effortless and easy. I don’t mention to anybody how I’m anxiously waiting for Vic to get back, but Maya can tell; she knows me too well. She finds it amusing I’m so hung up on a guy, having always been so weird about dating and all the rules I believe should go with it.

I grab two plates of food that are ready, almost dropping them when I turn around.

Vic has just walked through the door, newspaper tucked under his arm as he strolls to his usual table.

I try and compose myself, but it’s not working. Butterflies have transformed into humming birds, their wings flapping all over the place at a frenzied speed, my heart beating in excitement.

Before Vic sits down he makes eye contact and my heart thumps right out. He gives a small nod towards the bathroom, places his paper on the table, and retreats to it.

I quickly place the hot plates still in my hands on the table they belong and follow, peering behind me to make sure nobody is watching before stepping inside.

Vic has me pinned to the door, locking it behind me as soon as I enter, kissing me roughly. Or maybe it’s me kissing
him
roughly.

“You’re early,” I pant as his mouth makes delicious movements all over my neck, his hands pawing at my breasts.

He doesn’t respond, pushing me up from behind. I hold back a yelp from the surprise of it, wrapping my legs around his waist. He’s already hard and grinding against me.

Quicker than I’m able to register what’s happening Vic has freed himself and shoves aside my undies, pushing deep inside me. As he moves I bury my face in his neck, taking in his smell, still missing and longing for him, my heart not caught up to the fact that he’s here.

“Freya,” Vic moans into my neck, inhaling me as well.

“Vicsuyan,” I groan.

Faster than I ever thought possible, we climax together in an explosion that has us biting into each other to muffle the noise.

Vic breathes heavily into my neck, “Get off early.”

“I’ll try,” I promise.

“Please,” it comes out with desperation, like possibly the separation was just as hard for him.

“Okay. Tell me your room number. I’ll come to you.”

Vic stiffens, “My hotel?”

I nod, “I want to see it.”

He lifts his head from my neck, meeting my eyes and searching them, lips straight-lined, his brows slightly pulled together. He gently pulls out of me, adjusting anything out of place before putting me down, “There’s nothing to see. It’s a standard room. Besides, I won’t be there much longer.”

My mood falls from the clouds and crashes to the ground.

“You’re leaving?” I ask in a hushed tone.

He responds to his crotch as he’s zipping back up, “I’m buying a place.”

I perk up, “Here?”

He looks at me, “Of course.” He gives me a kiss, with just enough tongue that I become slightly aroused, and leaves.

I clean myself up, peeking around the door to make sure nobody notices before I exit.

The only person with a knowing smile is my sister, who is pouring coffee for the table next to Vic’s.

“Welcome home, Vic.” Maya smiles with amusement over the fact that I just had a quickie in a bathroom, when in the past I’ve made it very clear how I feel about public restrooms: disgusting. I hate them. “My sister’s been miserable.”

My mouth drops open, not believing she said that.

Maya leaves with a snicker. Sisters suck.

I clear my throat, smoothing back my hair before coming to Vic’s table, “The usual?”

“Yes,” he confirms, unfolding his newspaper, indifferent towards me. I turn to head back to the kitchen to put in his order, but I stall when he speaks my name barely above a whisper, “Freya…I was the same.”

I stare at him, trying to decipher what he means as he reads his paper, face expressionless. I realize it’s in regards to what my sister said about me being miserable. I flush, a big smile on my face as I leave.

~~~~~

I go to Dad’s office to inform him about leaving early and find him having an argument over the phone.

“You told me Thursday,” he growls. “That’s not my problem. The weekend is our busiest time and I need my order.” He slams the phone down, rattling his desk.

You never want to deal with my dad when an order is delayed or messed up; he turns vicious, revealing another side to him.

He glances up, noting I’m there. His murderous glare turns soft, and his scowling lips turn up, widening.

“Everything all right?”

“You bet,” he answers cheerfully.

“I just wanted to give you a heads up that I’m taking off. Mom’s going to keep an eye from the bookstore in case the café needs her help.”

“You seeing your man?” He guesses, having seen Vic eating breakfast.

I nod, unable to control a fat grin.

“Tell him your mom and I want to have him for dinner this Sunday. I’ll make my famous lasagna.”

“I don’t know…” Vic doesn’t seem like the meeting-the-family type.

“Oh, come on,” he comes around the desk, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and giving me a shake. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“You can’t be high,” I warn. “Or make any of your ‘special’ desserts. Or play John Denver.” I add the last one in, more for myself, “
Or
burn sage around him to cleanse his aura.”

My dad chuckles, “Anything else?”

“Wear a shirt.” He usually takes it off as soon as he gets home. It was beyond embarrassing growing up with friends over.

“Fine, fine,” he waves a hand. “Easy peasy.”

“Ha!” I bark. “We’ll see.”

I hear him laughing as I leave.

Chapter 11

To my surprise, Vic is in my living room resting on the couch when I arrive home. He places a finger up at me to wait a minute, pointing to the phone that’s to his ear.

His eyes have hardened, a slight sneer to his upper lip, “Give me another week and you’ll have your answer…It’s only been seven weeks. Anybody else it would have been at least double, if at all…I’m not the kind of man you want to threaten…” He hangs up with a grunt.

“Business?” I guess.

“Unfortunately.” Vic gestures for me to join him and I plop down on the couch, snuggling close to his side. His arm wraps around me, holding me tighter to him.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No,” he says into my hair, kissing the top. He lifts his free arm and peers at his watch, “Our appointment’s in an hour.”

“Appointment?”

“Mm,” is his confirmation.

“What kind of appointment?”

“You’ll see.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, moving to straddle him, “Do you purposely try and be mysterious, or were you born that way?”

Vic lifts my top over my head, “Both. I like the look on your face when I’m confusing you. It’s cute. I like it when you’re cute.”

“As opposed to other times…I’m what? Not cute?” I joke, squealing when Vic swiftly moves us, my back slamming against the couch cushion, his body weighing down on me.

“Sexy,” he mouths along my skin, lips voyaging downward. “Sexy
and
forbidden.”

“Forbidden?”

He stills, dropping his forehead to my thigh, his breaths shallow and heavy. “Yes,” he confesses, low and deep.

I stroke his hair, growing uneasy, “Vic…”

“I shouldn’t be falling for you.”

Falling for me
.

I wonder if he can hear how fast my heart is beating.

“I disagree.” If I’m falling over
that
cliff, I’m glad he’s going with me.

“Do you?” I can feel him smirking, head still to my leg, but now it’s turned to the side and he’s laying along my leg like it’s a body pillow while I continue to play with his hair. “My job forces me to travel a lot. Can you handle that?”

“Yes.”

“I could be gone as long as a month.”

“Can you call me?”

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”

“And what is it you do exactly…” I trail off, remembering our conversation from before.

“You can never repeat what I am telling you. To anyone. Not ever. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes,” I respond with firm assurance.

He sighs, his breath hot down my leg, “I find the impossible.”

“Oh, so you’re like a private detective.” That’s not so bad. I had far worse ideas running through my head.

“In a sense…”

His guarded tone has me uneasy again. “What happens when you find them?”

Another heavy sigh, “Nothing good.”

I swallow a bit too loudly, “And that’s why you’re here? To find someone?”

“Yes, but that’s all I can tell you. You will never be able to know who or why, or who I’m even working for.” Vic lifts up his head, resting his chin above my knee, eyes on mine.

He has worry in his brown eyes, darkening them. I smooth out the crease between his brows. “You don’t kill them do you?”

“No. I only find them.”

“Are they bad people?”

“Mostly,” he states unapologetically.

“Are your employers bad?”

“Some…” He pauses. “Except now. I will be taking a permanent position with a company so I can stay here with you.”

“Will it be safe for you? For us?” I can’t believe he’s finally opening up to me and actually talking about who he is.

“Yes. He’s one of the few people I trust.” Vic slides up my body, his sudden intense stare making my breath stop. “You’re a part of it now. There’s no going back.”

I feel like I should be scared, that I should be worried about his character, but I’m tired of worrying about all the “shoulds”. I’m tired of being confused about us because it doesn’t fit into the way love and relationships should be. So what if we’re moving fast and he doesn’t have a conventional job? Screw anyone who judges us. The only thing that matters is how we feel about it, and I’ve never felt more alive since meeting him.

Vic enters me, taking his time with long, slow strokes, closing the contract with his final statement, “You’re mine now, Freya.”

~~~~~

“Should I change first?” I ask Vic as we put our clothes back on. “You know, into something nicer?”

He fastens the tie that I hadn’t noticed when I first came in. He’s professionally dressed, in slacks, a button-up with complementary tie, and gray peacoat with the collar popped up. His hair’s slightly unkept from the way I was just tugging and pulling on it. He looks delicious. Like can’t-stop-staring-brain-jumbled-seriously-orgasmic delicious.

“You’re fine.”

“No.” It’s obviously an important appointment if he’s dressed up. “I’m changing.”

“Hurry.”

I do, knowing how he is about time. I quickly throw on dress pants and a pink cashmere sweater, leaving my hair loose and wild, hoping post-sex hair makes mine just as sexy looking as his.

Vic appears impressed with my speediness. He tells me the appointment’s close by, so we walk a few blocks up and a couple blocks more to the right, taking us into my favorite area of town (or at least, my favorite neighborhood).

I sometimes walk this way just to be surrounded by all its beauty. The homes are older, from somewhere in the early nineteen hundreds. They are either cottages or ranch style. The fronts are expertly cared for with rich landscapes and bounties of flowers and plants. The trees lining the streets are usually the most incredible during fall and spring, except now as we reach the end of February they’re blooming with pink cherry blossoms. At Christmas time it’s simply picturesque with all the homes eloquently done, making you feel like magic might possibly exist from the way all the white lights twinkle from house to house.

Vic stops me in front of a simple one-story ranch style home, the yard full of lavender plants that complement the rich wood framing of the house and the moss green coloring, “What do you think?”

I love it, just like I love every home on this block. That’s when I notice the For Sale sign. “Are you thinking of buying this place?” My mouth has dropped open. These homes are a fortune and extremely hard to buy into.

“Only if you like it.”

“I love it,” I gush.

“You haven’t even seen the inside.”

“I don’t have to.” I’m trying not to hyperventilate with excitement that I might possibly know someone who lives on this street; this neighborhood is my dream.

Vic smirks, then turns straight-faced as a blue BMW pulls into the driveway and a woman in her mid-forties steps out in a gray business suit and chignon coiled brown hair.

She smiles a bleached-out-fancy smile, “Mr. Vitalle. On time as usual.”

“Nadine,” Vic greets curtly and they kiss each other’s cheeks.

“This must be Miss Brennan,” the woman acknowledges, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Nadine.”

I accept her hand, “Nice to meet you.”

She motions to the house, “Are you ready to see the inside?”

Vic leads the way. Nadine gestures for me to follow, and as I’m turning I see her admiring Vic’s backside. Naturally my possessive instincts kick in, but the reality is he has one of the nicest asses known to mankind and I can’t fault the woman for admiring it.

She opens the front door that looks like it was designed by an artist, with wood carvings all around the frame that instantly make you feel all warm and homey from the intricate designs.

“Original hardwood,” Nadine says with pride as we step inside.

I gasp at the home’s beauty and it echoes through the vacated space. Nadine guides us around, pointing out where things have been updated and what has been with the home from the beginning. There’s more windows than walls, the natural sunlight lighting up the place and making it glow. It has crown moulding and built in shelves, antique door knobs, and latte painted rooms. The main living room has a bay window with a window seat, enticing me to grab a book and read. The dining room has a beautiful antique crystal chandelier already in place. The kitchen hasn’t been updated, which to some would be a disappointment, but to someone like me it makes me swoon and fall in love with its old-style charm of shabby but chic. It has a big window overlooking the side of the house with a view of the street and the backyard. Next are the two bedrooms, which are small but enough for the necessities like a bed, a dresser, and perhaps a desk or bookshelf. The bathroom across from them could use an update, but the bear-foot-clawed bathtub makes up for it.

Vic has his hand resting on my lower back as we explore, spending more time observing my reaction to each room than taking the time to notice it for himself.

We stop in the master bedroom, which has an attached bath and his and hers closets. French doors lead to the backyard that despite it being winter is a haven of furniture so comfy it looks like it should belong in the house, with a fire pit in the middle ready for cold nights or days.

Vic begins interrogating Nadine about things I could care less about: plumbing, electrical, and such, so I step outside, taking in the crisp fresh air. I can already recognize that come spring it will be blossoming with flowers, filling it with color.

The sun is brightly shining and I close my eyes for a moment, letting it warm me. If this was my place I would spend most of my time out here, reading, relaxing, having friends over.

A hand is placed back on my lower back, Vic’s body snug against it, “Do you want it?”

I watch birds playing in the nearby rock fountain that was handmade and takes up most of the left side of the fence, “Shouldn’t
you
be answering that?”

“No. This is for you.”

My stomach twists with so many emotions I can’t keep up with them all.

“I have a home,” I remind him, though more to myself.

“With your sister. I want you to share this with me.”

“I can’t afford it.” Not even half the mortgage, probably not even a fourth of it.

“I can.” He’s so matter-of-fact, as though this isn’t some monumental step forward, like this isn’t one of the most important decisions one ever has to make.

“You don’t think this is all happening too fast?”

“No.” Vic brings his lips to my ear, tongue grazing the outer edge as he murmurs into my ear, “Move in with me, Freya.”

I shiver, “Did you know how much I love this neighborhood?”

He tugs on my lobe with his teeth, “Yes. You walk here often.”

“Have you been stalking me?” I tease, turning around and wrapping my arms around his neck, an extra-large smile on my face, not able to contain the happiness soaring through me.

“I couldn’t stop,” he confesses, bringing his lips to mine. “I became obsessed.”

Our tongues wrap around each other as Vic holds me closer, his hands firm against my back. The kiss turns into one of those you know you will remember for the rest of your life, how it took control of all your senses and didn’t let go. The kind that has your skin tingling and your heart feeling like it’s pounding out of every crevice of your body. More importantly, it’s the one that lets you know that it’s not the kiss making you feel that way, but the other person and what they have come to mean to you, how hopelessly you have fallen for them, and suddenly realizing that you’ve landed exactly where you were always meant to be.

“Move in with me,” he repeats.

“Okay,” is all I can manage, too caught up in where his hands are roaming and how he’s making me feel things I never have before.

He smiles along my lips.