Belle rose. “Victor, that’s Jerry, my old boss. He and Pip are best friends,” she added.
Victor’s scowl grew less deadly, but only a little bit. Then he caught a glimpse of the tattoo on Jerry’s arm. “You a Marine?”
Jerry nodded. “Twenty years.”
Victor’s expression cleared, replaced with something that looked like respect. “My dad was a Marine. Did his twenty too.”
Jerry looked ready to launch into a long conversation about that—because he loved talking about his military days—but a large group of women entered the shop, all loudly chatting andlaughing. Jerry shifted back behind the counter to help Kelly fill the orders, recruiting Pip to help.
“Belle?” Scott stood up, his gaze traveling from her to Pip to Jerry…before landing on Victor and lingering. It was clear he was trying to place Victor, which wasn’t an odd thing in Baltimore for hockey fans.
Belle took over the introductions. “Scott. I think I told you when we were messaging back and forth that I was a nanny.” God knew she hadn’t imparted that information today because apart from a few single-word replies, he’d carried the conversation. “That little girl over there is Pip.”
Pip was too busy supervising as Jerry made the women’s coffees, to acknowledge her name being spoken.
“And this is her uncle, Victor Reed.”
As soon as she said Victor’s name, the light went on in Scott’s head. “You play for the Stingrays. Jesus, man, you’re a hell of a defenseman. My family’s business rents a box a couple times a season to schmooze our clients.” Scott reached out, shaking Victor’s hand effusively.
Victor nodded, not bothering to offer any sort of friendly greeting.
“You didn’t tell me you knew Victor Reed,” Scott said to Belle, like she’d committed some major faux pas.
Belle was tempted to ask just when she was supposed to let him know, considering he hadn’t shut up about himself once in the past two hours.
“Belle is living with me,” Victor said, leavingwaytoo much unexplained in that one sentence.
“Pip and I are staying with Victor this summer, while her mother’s out of the country for work,” she hastily added, though she wasn’t sure why she was bothering. There was no way in hell Scott was getting a second date.
Victor crossed his arms. “What do you do for a living?”
Scott reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his business card, offering it to Victor. “I sell insurance. I don’t know who you’re currently with, but if you’d like to switch companies, I could give you a great deal on home, life, auto, whatever you need.”
“I’m happy with my insurance agent,” Victor said, not even bothering to look at the card. “I’ll let the two of you get back to your date,” he said darkly.
Belle assumed that meant he was going to collect Pip and head out. But Victor clearly had other plans, as he ordered himself an Americano, then claimed a table very close to the booth she was sharing with Scott. Pip remained behind the counter with Jerry, who was letting her create her own lemonade with the fruit flavors.
Belle sat back down, even though she’d been done with this date for at least an hour. Regardless, she was hesitant to let it end now.
For all the wrong reasons.
While she had no interest in Scott, she sort of loved the fact that Victor had shown up here to check on her. Sure, maybe his presence was exactly what he’d said—Pip demanding Mr. Jerry’s special drinks. But more likely, that overprotective nature of his had gotten the better of him and he’d come to make sure she was safe.
Of course, her heart chose to pretend that he was jealous. So since that was the excuse she’d decided to latch on to, it only made sense that she continue her date to see if she could turn Victor’s gorgeous brown eyes green.
Scott glanced in Victor’s direction, his brows furrowing when he realized Victor was staring right back.
“You just work for him?” Scott asked under his breath.
Belle shook her head. “Actually, I work for his sister. Like I said, we’re just staying with him this summer.”
“And the two of you…” Scott didn’t voice his question, though it was obvious what he wanted to know.
“We’re just friends,” Belle said cheerily, even though that sentence hurt. “We’re basically co-parenting Pip until her mom comes back.”
Pip, armed with her lemonade, headed toward Victor, then bypassed him and came to their table instead. “Mr. Jerry let me put in whatever flavors I wanted!”
Given the murky purplish-gray color of the drink, Belle guessed Pip had addedallthe flavors. “That was very nice of him.”