Vic found Eric watching her, just the hint of a smile on his face, his blue eyes warm. “You know what, city girl? You’re alright.”
Chapter 3
“What doyou mean the pizza wasn’t good?” Eric followed Victoria up the sidewalk, his laptop tucked under his arm. “First you make fun of our reservoir, and now you don’t like the pizza?”
Victoria swiped her key card, buzzing them in through the inn’s private guest entrance. “Have you ever had real Chicago deep-dish pizza?”
Of course, he hadn’t. “How could it be that much different from what Joe serves up? Put toppings on dough with sauce and cheese and bake it. That’s pizza.”
She smiled. “If you don’t know the difference, there’s no way I can explain it.”
They stepped into the elevator together.
He pushed the button for the third floor. “If Chicago-style pizza is so much better, why don’t you make some and prove it? Or don’t you cook?”
“Are you kidding? I love to cook.” Her chin came up—proof he’d set off her stubborn streak again. “Okay, you’re on—ifI can find the ingredients somewhere.”
The elevator doors opened.
Victoria stepped out, walked to her door, opened it with another swipe of her card. “Do you think Lexi and Austin suspect anything?”
Eric followed her inside, locking the door behind them. “Nah. We’re good.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Eric had seen the pissed-off look on Taylor’s face when he had offered to drive Vic home. Taylor thought Eric was ignoring his warning and trying to get naked with her.
Would Eric like to have sex with Victoria? Hell, yes. But he wasn’t actively working to make it happen. He’d heard what Taylor had said. Besides, Victoria was Lexi’s best friend, and if he slept with her, it might blow up in his face. He wouldn’t risk his friendship with Lexi and Austin for anything.
Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true either. Eric wouldn’t initiate anything, but if Victoria started it, he would sure as hell finish it.
He stopped and looked around, dresses, tops, and pants lying haphazard on the sofa. “Did one of your suitcases explode?”
“Sorry about the mess. I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”
Eric couldn’t understand that problem. A clean shirt and a pair of jeans, and he was good to go. “You shouldn’t stress. You’d look great in anything.”
She grabbed the clothes and disappeared into the bedroom. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in sweats and a T-shirt on a Saturday morning.”
Oh, he most certainly would—though he wasn’t complaining about the wispy little spaghetti strap number she was wearing now. It had taken no small amount of willpower to keep his gaze on her face and away from the deep V neckline.
Her feet were bare when she stepped out of the bedroom, her toenails painted a sexy shade of red. “Where do you want to set up?”
“How about over there?” He pointed to the small dining table near the window.
“Perfect. Are you thirsty?”
“Water would be nice. You’d better be drinking lots of water, too, after spending all that time in the sun. You just got here from the flats.” He carried his new laptop over to the small table, plugged it into the nearest outlet, and then booted it up.
She walked over with two glasses of ice water. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
From nearby, her cell phone buzzed—again.
Her body stiffened, her head snapping around toward the sound.
“Your boss again?”
Victoria hurried toward her handbag, which sat on the coffee table, and pulled out the phone. “Yes. Another email. It’s midnight in Chicago.”