Hot Pursuit - Denise A. Agnew [28]
The door opened before he could ring the bell. “Hey, soldier.” She grinned. “Get in here before you turn into a frozen dessert.”
Oh, yeah. I’d like to be your dessert. A rush of heat filled his groin as he thought about it. “Ah, I hoped you’d be interested in warming me up.”
She blushed. “Smart ass.”
He grinned as they closed the door on the weather. “I think you like me that way.”
She grunted. “Don’t push it, buddy.”
He liked her attitude and the smile on her face even more. She looked happy, healthy, and that made him feel damned glad he’d shown up. Dressed in a navy blue sweater and baggy sweatpants, she had the aura of a woman who didn’t care what anyone thought. Not an arrogant don’t-care look, but a confident I-can-do-anything woman. Thick socks covered her feet.
“Come on in before you freeze to death. I was just about to spike some hot chocolate.” She strode through the living room toward the kitchen. “Want some?”
“You bet. Not too much whiskey in mine.”
She stopped before she reached the kitchen. “Drinking and driving?”
“Yep. Can’t do it.”
She nodded, her eyes cleared of amusement. “Of course. I didn’t think.”
He smiled, worried by the sudden soberness in her gaze. “Don’t worry about it.” He showed a half inch of air between thumb and finger. “Just a splash.”
He wrestled out of his big coat, hat and gloves and left his snow boots on the entrance rug. She made the hot chocolate, spiked with a dram of whiskey. As he watched covertly, he tried not to wonder where this visit would lead. He needed to take it slow, take things to a natural conclusion, even if it meant he went back to the inn tonight without making love to her. He approached her in the kitchen as she stirred the whiskey into the mugs.
She hung her head a moment and sighed. She turned toward him, and damned if there wasn’t moisture in her eyes. She shoved a hand through her hair, and the inky strands stood up like she’d jammed her finger in a light socket.
Instinct pushed Vic to cup her face and swim into those deep ocean blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed hard. “Sorry. I’ve had a strange day.”
He released her face, but cupped her shoulders. “Like what?”
“Hormonal. Or just plain out of it. It’s been one of those days where things went wrong. I went over to the studio and sorted through paperwork. My business…well, things aren’t looking so good for my business.” Her voice went soft, weary. “I’m sorry. I didn’t invite you over to whine.”
His heart pinched in sympathy, and he realized it hadn’t done that in a long time. Pinched because he felt her pain down deep, down inside him where he didn’t want to feel it.
He rubbed her shoulders gently. “If you want me to go…”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. I…this week has been kind of a mess.”
“All of it?”
A weak smile touched her mouth. “The only time that felt good and right was the time I spent with you.”
Sensing a lot more to this saga than he understood, he kissed her forehead. “Come on. Let’s sit down and talk about this.”
Lucy settled on the couch, cupping her mug in both hands. Her eyes threatened to tear up again, and she wished the day could return to the beginning and she’d have the opportunity to start from scratch. Vic settled near her and put his mug down on a coaster on the coffee table. She dared look at him and saw such understanding and compassion in his eyes that a sweet wave of emotion sideswiped her.
He sat with his arm up on the back of the couch, the rest of his body facing her.
“Whatever’s been happening this week, you can tell me. I’m a good listener.”
A smile managed to touch her lips. “I remember.” She also recalled the delicious way he’d touched her, caressed her, kissed her until she’d screamed with the joy of it. “All of it.”
He grinned, and that knowing look in his dark eyes made her heart thump. God, maybe she was