Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(64)

“I can deduce it, yes. I just don’t know if my deduction is correct.”

“Tell me what you think it is.”

“I don’t know. When you like something or you want to do something, you say goals? Is it like a bucket list of sorts?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Hmm.”

I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. “Do you have any goals?”

He was quiet for a moment. I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me over the music, but then he said quietly, “I do have goals.” He didn’t elaborate, so I didn’t push him.

We got to the hotel, checked in, went to dinner, laughed our asses off as Victor came up with a story for every old man in the restaurant. I’d missed this. Fun. Laughter. Feeling carefree. I realized in the last eighteen months, I’d become a reclusive, introverted side of myself, one I couldn’t entirely get used to. With Victor, I slowly felt I was getting myself back. Finding me.

“So basically all of their wives married them for money,” I said, taking a sip of my Riesling.

He shrugged. “Basically.”

“Do you ever want to get married?” I asked.

His eyes snapped to mine, and for a moment I got lost in their intensity, the greens mixing with the browns, and the blue undertones swirling around.

“Maybe . . . probably.”

My eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t take you for the married type.”

His lips twitched. “You only took me for the random hookups in his office type?”

“I guess so?” I smiled. “At least I didn’t assume you’d hooked up with any previous clients.”

His eyes dropped to the table, and my stomach went with them.

“Have you?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me. Suddenly, I felt disgusted. The way I felt when I found out Gabe had potentially cheated on me. My stomach turned at the thought of Victor with another woman, driving her away like this to not get caught. He was quiet for so long, that my mind threatened to run off into the realm of visualization. Victor with some prissy redhead, or skinny blonde, everything I wasn’t. His deep chuckle cut through my thoughts.

“No, Nicole. You’re my first. And last.”

My heart pounded loudly at his admission, at those words and the way he said them. I narrowed my eyes at him despite the way I was feeling.

“Asshole,” I said. He laughed harder, and even though I was laughing along and felt a sense of ease at his words, I wondered if he felt the same. I cleared my throat. “Would it bother you if somebody asked me out on a date?”

His laughter stopped instantly. “Why? Who asked you out? That * realtor?”

That made me laugh. “No. You know there are more men in the world, right?”

“Who asked you out?”

“Some guy. A neighbor of mine.”

“What’s his name?”

“Why do you need to know his name?” I asked, frowning. “It’s not like you know my neighbors.”

“You can tell a lot about a person from their name.”

I laughed. “Brent.”

He shot me a look. “You’re going to go out with a guy named Brent?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything.” He stood up and folded his napkin on the table. “Ready?”

By the look in his eyes, the thought of me on a date wasn’t sitting well with him. He looked . . . demanding. Intense. Sexy. Irresistible. I put my hand in his and stood. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it before pulling me closer and walking toward our room. I expected him to throw me against the door the moment we walked in. Instead, he’d said he was going to shower first because he needed to make a phone call to follow up with a client. I couldn’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed, but I took it in stride. He’d brought me here to spend time with him, away from prying eyes. I’d seen the desire in his eyes. I knew he wanted this as badly as I did, but I also knew work was a priority, and I wasn’t going to act like a child over it.

The shower switched on as I was unpacking our things and removing the tags. I tried not to picture him naked on the other side of the door, but it was difficult not to visualize the water dripping down his hard body. I groaned, and when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a white bathrobe, I had to take a calming breath to regain composure.

“I’ll only be fifteen minutes,” he said, kissing the top of my head. I wanted to tuck my hands inside the robe and climb him like a f*cking tree, but I nodded and brushed past him instead, taking my new underwear with me.

When I walked out of the bathroom wearing a white fluffy robe, I found Victor sitting at the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand. As soon as he sensed me come in, his head snapped up. He took in my appearance and pushed a button down on his phone, slinging it to the couch beside him. I untied the robe and parted it to show off my new lingerie.

“You like me in my sexy Target bra?” I asked, placing a hand on my hip and jutting it out as I modeled for him. He nodded, eyes hooded as they raked over my body.

“I like you in any bra. Every bra. But I prefer no bra,” he said, voice raspy, eyes darkened with desire. “Strip for me.”