ran a hand through her hair, exposing the delicate shell of her ear, and a nearly insurmountable need to touch it with his mouth hit him square in the head.
Thank Christ the charcuterie showed up so he had something to do with his hands—and mouth—before he hauled her close enough to do it.
“I heard the whole thing. On Sunday with your father,” he clarified. Her father had shown up angry, ripe for a fight. He’d savagely ripped into his children, trying to pit one against the other so he could control his eldest. So that he could jettison the youngest. Richie Dolan was a poor excuse for a human being and a shit father. “You can’t blame yourself for that. We talked about this yesterday morning.”
“No. You said I didn’t have anything to apologize for when it came to you seeing how my dad acted. Not that I didn’t protect my baby sister.”
Shadows then in her gaze and he knew she’d remembered those three women who’d died in that basement chamber of horrors as she’d been waiting, wondering when her time to die would come.
“Can I admit something?” he asked. He had to lean close to be heard because the place was full of noisy, happy diners. It lent a sort of privacy that even a more empty restaurant couldn’t offer.
She turned, her face close enough that he could really see her eyes. The amber fringe of color around the pupil. “Yes,” she said.
“Sometimes I’m not entirely sure how to talk about certain things with you. Not because you’re fragile or because I pity you. But I don’t want to stumble into something that brings up bad memories. So I apologize in advance for the times when I’m going to put my foot in it.”
She swallowed and then nodded. “You didn’t. Stumble into something. It’s always with me. What happened. It’ll never completely go away and that’s how it is. So yes, I didn’t protect Maybe from my father and I didn’t protect those women Price killed before they found me. But they’re not the same thing anyway.”
She busied herself with food awhile as they drank wine and were just together, but silent.
“I think he will fight. I think he will try to pull strings. I think he will hurt Maybe to get to me. I think he underestimates me and how far I’ve come. And I think he overestimates how good he was at his job when he compares his skills to mine,” she said at last.
Vic nodded his head. This was good too. She wasn’t going to let this stop her from living the life she’d worked so hard for.
And it was really fucking hot when she got mad and a little violent.
“Yeah? You were a hot shit FBI agent looking all tough and sexy as you brought down the bad guys. Your sister has sung your praises more than once.”
“Maybe is good for my ego.” Rachel shrugged. “I was good at it. Better than he ever was. And that never occurred to me until this mess. I was just glad they were proud. I simply had no idea that to them pride was such a poisonous thing. But he wanted to put me and Maybe in enemy boxes and all he managed to do was put himself there instead.”
“Is there no going back? Nothing he could do to fix this?” Vic knew it was easy to be in his place and make judgments about what she should do. He thought Richie Dolan was bad for his daughters. Toxic. He’d done and said things that seemed impossible to get past. But sometimes families did.
“I don’t think so. I can forgive a lot. But what they did to Maybe? And what they’re trying to do to me now? Take away my freedom. Cage me? No. And that they don’t seem to understand why that’s a problem? I feel like they should know me better. But I guess I didn’t know them very well either. No. There might be a time when I could be in the same room and not want to punch his face, but I don’t think I’ll ever be happy to see him again. He broke something important and some things can’t be fixed.”
“Some people can’t be fixed. He’s an adult. A parent. He makes his own choices. No one can look at you now and think you’re not in control of your own life, Rachel.”
“I’m outraged, you know? Like, how dare he try to do this to me? He’s disrespecting me and my life. My friends. My sister and best friend. Their daughter!”
He rather liked seeing her this way. Not that she was experiencing emotional upset—but the passion in her tone, the way she held herself, spine straight—it was bold and exciting. Intriguing and sexy as fuck.
“And now they’re here on this date in this seriously wonderful little bistro. I apologize,” she told him.
“You apologize too much for things you don’t own.”
“You brought me flowers again. Daffodils and larkspur. And pastry shaped like a heart. You’re bringing your A game.”
That pleased him. That she teased and opened up a little bit, sharing a private part of herself, though he hadn’t failed to notice her changing the subject about always apologizing for things other people did.
“I don’t do anything halfway,” he said of his courtship game.
“So, today I dealt with that stuff with my parents. The attorney is going to handle all the response to this conservatorship stuff as well. Then I went back to work, but on my way stopped at that little clothing shop between my bus stop and Ink Sisters. There was a sale. Always a good thing. So I then went to work, where they’d just ordered lunch including a burrito for me. Also a good thing. Then it was super busy until I got off work and met you at the curb. And now I’m here with you.”
He took her hand, turning it to kiss her wrist before letting it go. “And now you’re here with me. Which is most definitely the best thing in my day.”
“I’ve told you all about my day. Tell me about yours.”
He watched the deliberate way she moved, the choices she made, how she combined and tried new things as they arrived at the table.
“Work. Stayed after we closed to help with cookie baking for this group my mom and aunts are all into at the church. They bake and then take the stuff to all the older people who are on their own. Visit with them a little, you know? She sent me and Evie over here to the market to pick up some fruit. Then made me bake for them and drink tea. They were heading out when I left to come get you.”
“Of course all those babushkas wanted you to cook for them and make tea. I mean, look at you. Anyway, it’s nice. Your whole brood are just really nice people. Except Rada. She’s a jackwagon.”
Vic nearly choked at the mention of Alexsei’s ex, who had been less than friendly to Maybe. “To be fair, she did give him a head’s up about your sister looking like she might need help.” Rada was complicated. As Evie’s best friend, she’d been part of their family a long time. She’d been worried Maybe would push her out of the family for good since she and Alexsei had already been broken up for nearly a year.
“I didn’t say she was an evil master villain. But she’s not nice. I’m not nice either, it’s how some of us are.”
He thought about that for a bit. “I think you’re nice.”
“I do nice things sometimes. But I’m not nice. It’s not an insult. It’s just a personality type.”
“Huh. Okay, I’m going to
