* * *
SHE MADE IT a point to be outside at the curb right at seven. Over the years, Rachel had taken note of how punctual he was. Generally amiable, he got agitated when everyone lagged or made him wait.
He pulled around the corner and frowned when he saw her. It didn’t stop him from double parking to let her in, though.
“I said I’d come in and get you,” he told her once they were headed home.
Though Rachel knew what he meant—that he wanted her to wait inside so he could come to the door—she couldn’t seem to stop herself from acting like she didn’t. Just to get a rise out of him. “You did come and get me. That’s how I came to be in your car at this very moment.”
“You should have waited for me to come in and get you,” he said in a grumbly tone.
“Well, that’s silly when I can just take a few steps out the front door so you don’t have to try to find a place to park. We’re not teenagers on a first date and you parked at the curb and honked your horn.”
“Sometimes I think you argue because it pleases you,” he said and it made her laugh.
“I think you’re too used to how easy your life is. You’re pretty and charming so everyone just gives you what you want. You don’t know what to do when anyone won’t go along.”
“If everyone did that, life would be better. It’s not too much to expect,” he told her, the laughter in his tone obvious.
That was the difference between his sort of bossy and what her parents were trying to do. It was why he was charming and they were being abusive.
Funny how she knew that and yet it still caught her up.
It puzzled her but she put it away as Vic pulled up at her place.
The lights were on inside so Maybe and Alexsei were already home. Rachel had thought it was nice to have her sister’s boyfriend around. Maybe had brightened even more since they’d become an item. She was more confident—if that was possible—and steadier. Love suited Maybe.
If for no other reason than the fact that he made Maybe happy, Rachel would have liked Alexsei. But he’d become an awful lot like a brother since he’d moved in. And it meant Vic was at their house a lot more too.
“I’ll be back to get you in half an hour. We have dinner reservations,” he told her before he drove the half block to his driveway.
“Okay then,” she muttered to herself as she let herself into the house.
Jesus, hot Russians everywhere. Alexsei stood in the kitchen with Maybe and one of the various cousins, Gregori, who was a fancy-pants megastar artist. His girlfriend, Wren, also an artist, sat at the table with a glass of wine.
They all greeted her with smiles and hellos when she moved through the room on her way to her side of the house. “Hi, all!” she said as she kept going. “Gotta run!”
Maybe was at her door two minutes later. “What are you going to wear?”
“Sweater, trousers, boots. It’s fucking freezing out there.” Rachel tossed off the layers of T-shirts and tanks and swapped out for the beautiful smoky gray cashmere sweater she’d splurged on after they’d left the attorney’s office earlier that day.
“But cute underwear, right? I mean what if something happens and you two want to throw off some clothes and you’re wearing something old and gross?” Maybe said as she dug through a nearby drawer.
“I don’t wear old and gross panties!”
“Okay, but you’ve got like, underpants to be viewed by the outside world and then those you save for your period.”
“I promise not to wear my period panties on my date, Maybe.”
Her sister tossed a hot-pink bra and panty set her way and then shook her head. “Never mind, not those. The color is too bright and you’ll be able to see through the sweater. Hmm.” Maybe pawed through her stuff some more before finding a similar set in an icy blue with a triumphant hoot.
Rachel knew her sister well enough to just put on the things she’d procured. The bra was one of those extra perky ones so it mounded up all that lady-flesh nicely at the neckline of the sweater.
“Go eat dinner with your boyfriend for god’s sake and stop pestering me,” Rachel said, batting Maybe away from her hair.
“Just let me get to the back. It’s sticking up.”
Finally she just let her sister fuss as she managed to reapply her lipstick after brushing her teeth.
“I want to know every detail,” Maybe said in a stage whisper as they heard the noise downstairs that indicated Vic had arrived.
“So everyone keeps telling me. This is dumb though. He’s your boyfriend’s BFF!”
“Shut up and go break off some of that. I’ll be waiting up and don’t argue because it won’t matter.” Maybe pushed her down the hall.
“Bossy bitch.”
“You got that right.”
VIC PULLED HER chair out and leaned in, taking a sniff at the back of her neck. “You smell like jasmine,” he said, joining her.
“It’s one of my favorite scents.”
His too, now.
“How was your day?” he asked her once they’d ordered and the wine had arrived. The small dining room was absolutely packed and he wondered if she’d be all right with that, but she didn’t seem to be having any difficulty.
He warred with himself over protecting her and leaving her alone and respecting however she wanted to handle herself. It was his nature to want to take care of people. He’d always been that way. But Rachel was a whole new problem. A whole new situation to try and figure out.
“It was weird. Saw an attorney. Then we went to the courthouse and got a temporary protection order for my father. We have to go back for a permanent one in two weeks after my dad gets served. That’ll be oodles of fun.”
He clinked his glass to hers. “You’re doing what you need to, to protect yourself. Not fun, but necessary.”
“It’s a huge waste of my time and it pisses me off.”
He sat back and took her in. “Okay then. Good.” He got the feeling she’d fight better and harder if she was pissed off. And what they’d done to her and Maybe was provocative and naturally she was upset.
“He’s a retired cop. He knows how to work the system. My attorney wanted me to be prepared. I hate that I have to be. Seth called to check in on me, which I thought was nice.”
“Once the Orlovs consider you family, you can’t escape us. Even fiancés and next-door neighbors,” he told her with a smile. “You think he’ll fight you on this.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. He’s used to being obeyed. When we lived on opposite sides of the country and I was doing what he expected me to everything was fine. For me anyway. He and my mother were abusing Maybe and I didn’t know how bad it was.”
She ran a hand through her hair, exposing the delicate shell of her ear, and a nearly insurmountable need to touch it with his mouth hit him square in the head.
Thank Christ the charcuterie showed up so he had something to do with his hands—and mouth—before he hauled her close enough to do it.
“I