Suddenly One Summer (FBI/US Attorney #6)(66)

“Oh—thank you. That’s good to hear.” Looking surprised by the hug, Victoria blushed as she caught Ford’s eyes over his mother’s shoulder. She gave him a little smile as she hugged his mom back, as if to say, What can you do, right?

And in that moment . . . something tightened in his chest.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping my daughter and granddaughter,” his mom said to Victoria when she pulled back. “Nicole told me all about it. And Ford, too. He says you’re a very talented lawyer, and a saint to be doing all this for free.”

“A saint? Really?” Victoria turned to him, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she undoubtedly recalled his skepticism over Nicole’s use of that very word just a few weeks ago. “Ford, you are too kind.”

He shot her a look. Cute. “I’m not sure saint was the actual word I used.”

“It sure was.” His mother smiled at Victoria. “And my son is not one to give compliments lightly, so if he has such wonderful praise for you, there must . . . be something to it.” She paused, as if thinking about that, then turned to him with a curious look.

“I’m happy to help Nicole and Zoe,” Victoria said. “It’s a unique situation, so professionally this has been a nice opportunity for me.”

“You have your own firm in the city, I hear,” his mom said.

They chatted for a few moments about Victoria’s law practice, and then she held up her grocery bags. “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should probably get these upstairs, anyway. It was very nice meeting you, Mrs. Dixon.” As she turned to head inside their building, she gave him a nod in good-bye. “Ford.”

“So, that’s Victoria,” his mom said when it was just the two of them. “She seems lovely.”

Through the glass door, Ford watched as Victoria stopped at her mailbox, the one next to his. Her hair, which she wore in a long, sexy ponytail again, fell over one bare, golden shoulder as she perused her mail. “She definitely has her moments.”

“Sounds like you two have been spending a lot of time together.”

He turned his attention to his mother, just now catching her sly tone. “Some, yes.”

“Will she be at your barbecue today?”

“Yes, I invited several of my neighbors.”

“Any others who you stare at like that?” She smiled knowingly when he didn’t immediately respond. “I didn’t think so.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re as bad as Brooke.”

“Brooke is a smart woman. Probably, you should listen to her about . . . well, whatever the situation is between you and Victoria.”

Not wanting to have this conversation with his mother—because there was no “situation” between him and Victoria, at least not the kind his mom was thinking—he shifted the box in his hands and kissed her on the cheek in good-bye. “I have to get back upstairs. The grill’s warming and Charlie and Tuck shouldn’t be left around open flames without adult supervision.”

His mom opened her mouth, likely to object—and then seemed to reconsider. “Too true.”

* * *

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Ford made his way through the living room, where a group of die-hard fans sat watching the Cubs game and drinking beer, and out onto the terrace. The loft was packed, both inside and outside. Every year, the party seemed to get bigger, although he wasn’t quite sure where all the extra people were coming from.

He had music playing on the outdoor speakers, and unlike last year’s weather fiasco—an unexpected downpour that had driven everyone inside—it was sunny and in the midseventies. He did a quick round on the terrace, going from group to group to say hello to new arrivals and to make sure no one needed anything. Tucker manned the grill, and in addition to beer and wine, Charlie had made a tropical rum punch, supposedly “for the ladies,” that seemed to be a huge hit.

“Hey, when’s my future wife going to be here?” Tucker asked, standing at the grill with Charlie.

“Still, with that?” Ford said.

Charlie had a question of his own. “Speaking of Victoria, now that you two are hooking up, do you think you could put in a good word for me with her friends? You know, the two cute ones she was with at The Violet Hour.”

“You can put in a good word for yourself,” Ford said. “She mentioned she’s bringing her friends with her today.”

Tucker pointed with the spatula. “Ooh—I call dibs on whichever one looks hotter.”

Ford gripped his friend’s shoulder. “It’s a wonder you’re still single, Tuck. Truly.” Spotting a group of colleagues from the Trib, he headed that way. They were in the middle of a debate over the reasons for the mayor’s recent drop in approval ratings when Victoria stepped out onto the terrace.

Ford’s eyes slowly moved over her appreciatively.

She looked fantastic, wearing some multicolored sleeveless dress and killer turquoise heels that showed off those legs she liked to wrap around his waist when he was inside her. But what most caught his attention wasn’t what she was wearing. Rather, it was the white Pyrex dish she carried in her hands.

The woman had cooked for him.

He excused himself from his co-workers and made his way over to her. “You brought me a casserole. That’s so . . . neighborly.”