Belle laughed as she washed strawberries at the sink.
The rest of the day passed just as quickly as the ones preceding it. She and Victor had fallen into an easy routine, and while she’d had some reservations about moving in here for three months, she could see her anxiousness had been for naught.
After dinner and an extremely serious conversation about whether swimming in the pool counts as “bath time,” Pip finally climbed into the tub.
Once she was in her pajamas, Victor sat on the edge of her bed, pulling the covers back for her.
“Story,” Pip demanded.
Victor reached for the worn hardcover ofThe Day the Crayons Quit.
Part of their unspoken routine was that Belle covered the bath shift, while Victor handled the story and tucking in part.She turned the light off in the en suite bathroom, pausing as she watched Victor open the book—Pip’s favorite—without hesitation, even though he’d already read it the past six nights in a row.
When the story ended, Pip yawned widely.
“Teeth brushed?” Victor swept the hair from Pip’s forehead affectionately, the gesture so gentle it made Belle’s chest ache.
“Yes.”
“Night, squirt.”
“Night, Uncle Vic. Night, Belle.”
Belle crossed the room and placed a soft kiss on Pip’s forehead. “Night, Pipsqueak.”
Victor pulled the duvet around the girl’s shoulders and turned off the lamp. Then the two of them stepped out into the hallway together.
“You’re good with her,” Belle said softly.
Victor shrugged. “She’s easy to love.”
“It was nice of you to take her—us—in for three months.” Belle had spent the last month thinking about how Vivian’s trip would impact her life, but she hadn’t considered what it would do to Victor’s as well.
“I’d do anything for Viv and Pip.”
Belle knew that, just as she couldn’t help but feel envious, wishing her name was on that same list. Hell, she’d be happy to be onanyone’slist in that capacity. As the youngest of nine kids, her parents had been well over child-rearing by the time she came along.
After years of watching Victor with Pip, her crush—which at first had been driven mostly by hormones—had shifted to something warmer, softer, and far more dangerous.
Victor cleared his throat. “I’ve got some paperwork and shit to do in my office.”
She nodded. “Okay. I think I’ll just head to my room. Read my book. Be sure to drop a dollar in the swear jar on your way by. Disney World’s not going to pay for itself.”
Victor snorted, then his gaze lowered to her lips. Before she could think better of her actions, she ran her tongue over the lower one.
Neither of them moved, and for a brief second, the space between them felt…charged.
Then Victor stepped back. “Good night, Belle.”
“Good night,” she said, watching as he turned and walked downstairs.
Belle stayed in the hallway for a moment longer. Her heart felt oddly full. And unsteady.
Because the truth was becoming harder to ignore.
Victor wasn’t just Pip’s uncle. He was a man who paid attention, who showed up, who opened his home without hesitation.
And somewhere in the past couple of years, Belle had started looking at him differently, less fixated on the sexy hair, incredible body, and deep, commanding voice that sent her fantasies to very dirty places.