He drew her into his lap. “What do you love?”
She seemed flustered, either because of his question or because he was holding her. “Well ... um … I don’t know. I guess ... Ireallylove to cook, and I’m good at it, too. But I don’t want to start over and go to culinary school. Owning a restaurant is a lot of hard work.”
Her scent washed over him, female and sweet, making him wish they could forget the video and get naked. Then again, she was leaving in four days, going back to the big city and her shitty job. What was he thinking? “Work doesn’t feel like work if you love what you’re doing.”
“Does your job never feel like work?”
“Sometimes it does. I hate paperwork. There are days when it feels like I’m managing an adult daycare center and drowning in bullshit, but those days are rare. Most of the time, I feel incredibly grateful to make my living the way I do. As my mother says, ‘You’ve got to choose the life you want to live, or something will choose you.’”
“Yeah, well, I thought I’d chosen.” She gave a little laugh. “I got exactly what I wanted, and it wasn’t what I wanted at all. The joke’s on me, I guess.”
“You can change your mind, you know. That’s the cool thing about still being alive. There’s time to change everything.”
“No, not everything.” She got to her feet, sat in her chair, and went back to work.
* * *
Vic putthe finishing touches on the video, thanking the long list of people who’d given interviews, her mind far from the work her fingers were doing.
She should tell him. No, it wasn’t that she was morally obligated to tell Eric. Some part of herwantedto tell him. After the closeness they’d had last night, a kind of intimacy that hadn’t had anything to do with sex, she wanted him to understand, wanted him to care.
But, God, what if he reacted the way her dad and brother had? They’d blamed her for the whole thing. Her brother had even called her an idiot—a fucking idiot, actually. She hadn’t talked to him since.
Uncertainty niggled at her, weakening her concentration.
“You spelled my last name wrong.” Eric pointed to the computer screen. “It’s got an ‘e’ on the end.”
“Oh, sorry.” She fixed the mistake. “What do you think?”
Eric leaned in and read aloud. “‘With love to Lexi and Austin on your wedding day, from Hawke and Victoria.’ You don’t think that’s too corny?”
“It’s a wedding. It’s supposed to be a little corny. Besides, you love Austin. I know you do. And I love Lexi. So it’s not corny. It’s the truth.”
“When you put it like that …”
“Do you want to watch it through one last time?”
He rubbed his eyes. “Please, God, no.”
She laughed. “How are you going to show this at the reception?”
“Belcourt is bringing a laser projector and a screen. He’s going to handle setting up at the reception.” A worried frown settled on Eric’s face. “You really think they’re going to like it?”
“They’re going to love it. I know they will. It was an incredibly thoughtful idea. You did a wonderful thing.”
“I didn’t do it alone.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch burning her cheek. It was the second time he’d done that since she’d been here. It was a simple gesture, but it felt caring and intimate. She liked it.
Tell him.
“Eric, I ...” Her pulse spiked. “I’m not going to Central City. I’m just going to stay here and relax tomorrow night.”
She got to her feet and went to refill her water glass, afraid those blue eyes of his would see through her.
“Does this have anything to do with those bastards in Buena Vista?”
“Yes.” She turned on the faucet, let the water run, forgetting the glass in her hand. “I know they won’t be there, but ...”
Just tell him.