making sure that Garrett knew exactly who was responsible for her being at Red tonight.
“Only the flan recipe on the dessert menu isn’t hers, although she’s talking about creating a chocolate version.”
A server put a plate of enchiladas in front of Garrett, smiled flirtatiously at him—or maybe knowingly—then sauntered away. Marcos excused himself, then Emily stood.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said.
Victoria was glad for the empty seat between her and Garrett because she wanted too much to sit closer, to brush arms, to straddle him right where he sat. “So, you come in every Sunday night for enchiladas?”
“And to pick up a standing order for a week’s worth of dinners.”
“You don’t cook, I guess.”
“I barbecue now and then, and breakfast and lunch are easy, but dinner’s a challenge. They freeze individual portions for me. Makes it simple.”
“You don’t get tired of eating the same things night after night?”
“Nope.” He scooped up a mixture of rice and beans then chewed thoughtfully while watching her. After he swallowed, he said, “You okay after today?”
“So far, so good.” She couldn’t remember being this tempted by a man. She’d had plenty of flirtations in her life, but she craved Garrett. He’d dominated her dreams for months, had held her hand for an hour, kissed her once—but very well—and now he was just sitting there, eating, and she wanted to go home with him.
He eyed her. “Your cheeks are pink.”
“It’s warm in here.”
“You sure you’re just not remembering our kiss?”
She angled her body toward him and crossed her legs, pleased that the kiss was on his mind, too. “I told you I was a good kisser.”
“It takes two.”
She smiled leisurely. “It certainly does.”
He gave her a cool look, which made her laugh.
“When do you go back to Atlanta?” he asked.
“Soon. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” She leaned closer. “I’d like to see you again.”
“Why?” He didn’t seem surprised, which annoyed her.
“You interest me,” she said.
“And you usually get what you want, I expect.”
She thought she should be offended by that, but realized he was speaking the truth as he saw it. She was a Fortune, therefore her life must never hit any speed bumps.
“Most of the time I guess I do,” she answered, although she’d never wanted anything that mattered a whole lot—until now.
He stood, tossed a couple of bills down for the bartender, then swiped his hat off the bar top. Was he going to take off without another word?
“May I come out to your place tomorrow?” she asked, her insides churning. He apparently didn’t have a high opinion of her. She’d like the opportunity to change that.
“Not a good idea.”
Her brows went up. “That wasn’t a no.”
He touched a finger to her chin, then dragged it down her neck, his expression intense. “It sure as hell wasn’t a yes. Good night, princess.”
“See you around, cowboy,” she replied, pleased her voice didn’t shake.
She watched him walk away and sighed. The skin he’d touched still burned. She’d always wondered what it would be like to want a man like that, really want him. Now she knew.
It probably wasn’t smart on her part, trying to get him to meet with her again and see what happened, but an insistent voice in her head—and heart—was telling her to pursue him. She’d always been the resistant one, the person to keep a suitor at arm’s length. Now the tables were turned, and she totally understood the frustration of being rejected, or at least being held off.
She wasn’t proud of her past behavior, but in her own defense, she hadn’t understood it, either.
Emily returned. They put on their jackets and walked back to the Mendoza house.
“You looked like you wanted to gobble that man up,” Emily said.
“Too bad he wasn’t on the menu,” Victoria said, smiling, enjoying the crisp April evening. Life was so different here from Atlanta, so starkly different. “Wendy seems to love living here, Em. I never would’ve predicted that.”
“I’m not sure it’s the where but the who. She loves Marcos. That’s all that matters to her. Plus she found a passion for making desserts, so now she has a career. Add in motherhood …” Her voice trailed off. She shrugged.
“Are you envious?” Victoria asked. “I know how much you want to be a mother. It would be good to have a husband first.”
“In an ideal world. How about you? Unlike me, you’ve never talked about—”
“Obsessed about, you mean,” Victoria interrupted.
Emily nodded. “I admit to an obsession. Anyway, you’ve never said anything about wanting a family.”
“I’ve given it some thought, but I’m not in a hurry. I don’t think I’ve found me yet. I’ve got a job that doesn’t excite me, but I don’t know what else I want to do. I have great friends, but they’re settling into relationships and careers, so I feel at a loss a lot of the time. I’ve gotten restless.”
As they left the downtown, the night seemed darker and quieter, and yet Victoria felt safe. She didn’t know how safe she would feel at Pete’s Retreat. Garrett’s desolate location, where animals and humans could be hovering without anyone knowing, made her nervous. What a city girl she was.
Victoria’s cell rang just as they reached the house. Emily went inside, leaving Victoria alone on the porch.
“Coward,” Victoria said into the phone instead of hello.
“No question about it,” her cousin Jordana said. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stay any longer. Couldn’t do what I said I would.”
“Your sisters are worried about you. They think you’re seriously ill.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That they shouldn’t worry, because you’re not. But you know you’ll be showing soon. How long do you expect to keep your secret?”
“I already can’t fasten some of my pants.”
“Then you can’t delay. And Jordana? Tanner deserves to know.”
“Soon,”
