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“Sorry, I forgot you don’t like physical displays. Of any sort. Minus ones under the cover of darkness, of course.” Thoughtfully, she pursed her lips. “I have to admit, I’m really starting to wonder why you can’t get a girlfriend without setting up arrangements.”
Back to the jaw ticking. “Yo
u know how busy I am.”
“I do. But perhaps there’s another issue. Maybe you couldn’t satisfy a woman if she drew you a map. Maybe your idea of wax play is getting freaky with crayons.” She leaned forward, making sure he got an eyeful of her cleavage in her scoop-neck top. “Come on, Cory, you can tell me. Is the problem dead wood?”
She knew from the orgasm he’d given her the other night that it wasn’t, but taunting Cory was too much fun to miss.
He stared at her for a long, pulsing moment, not smiling. Barely breathing. Then he rose, unfolding his long frame one delicious inch at a time. “You go too far, Victoria.” His voice was low. Hot.
She tilted her head and batted her lashes. “So pull me back in line. If you can.”
He reached out and for a second, she actually thought he was about to grab her hair and yank her over the desk. For nefarious or sexual purposes, she couldn’t tell.
But she couldn’t wait to find out.
A knock sounded at the door. As Cory’s mother popped her head in, he clenched his hand and dropped it to his side. And swore under his breath. Colorfully.
“Vicky! I thought I heard your voice.” Corinne hurried inside the office and swept her into a hug.
Vicky eagerly returned it. She’d adored Cory’s mom ever since Corinne had come in to assist during a few school events. She’d gravitated to her right away, probably because she hadn’t had a mom around of her own. Melly was a couple years older and seemed to take everything in stride, but Cory’s mom had helped fill the gaps for Vicky.
Then Vicky remembered the events that had transpired since the last time she’d seen Cory’s mom. As in the bump ’n’ grind photo seen ’round the world—or at least ’round Haven. A flush crept up her cheeks despite Mrs. Santangelo’s relaxed demeanor.
Maybe she was so relieved her son was finally getting some action, she didn’t care where or when.
“I’ve seen some of the pictures—” oh God, here it came “—from the magazine and can’t wait to see the finished product.” As Vicky sucked in a lungful of air, Corinne cupped her cheek. “We’re so lucky to have you working with us on this project. No one’s a better designer than my girl.”
Vicky’s throat swelled so fast she didn’t have time to stave off the surge of emotion. It also helped distract her from her lingering embarrassment. Leave it to Corinne to be able to get to her so easily. Must be a shared family skill. “Thanks. Not sure Cory feels the same,” she said with a watery laugh.
Speaking of Cory, his eyes had gone to slits and his jawbone appeared ready to snap. Because his mother liked her so much? Or because he wanted to strangle her with his bare hands?
Corinne frowned. “Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. Is it, Cory?”
He didn’t answer, which really freaking pissed her off. He was the one who’d appeared at her door last night with his supposed solution to the picture situation, though she still wasn’t sure why he’d come up with that idea at all since he’d rebuffed her attempts to help him with his little girlfriend problem.
Perhaps the time had come to nudge his hand.
Forcing a smile, Vicky walked around the desk to slip an arm around Cory’s waist. He stiffened.
She hated to lie to the woman who’d been the closest thing to a mother she’d had after her own mom had walked out on their family without warning. But if there was one thing that superseded even her love of Corinne, it was driving her son crazy. This should do it.
“He’s so quiet because he’s not sure how to tell you about us.” Vicky hip-checked Cory hard enough to knock him off his stance. His glare didn’t exactly go miles to add veracity to her statement, but whatever. “Right, darling?”
No response. Just a blank stare as if he scarcely recognized her, never mind claimed her as his significant other.
They probably wouldn’t be winning any of those “best couple” radio contests anytime soon.
“Is it true?” Corinne rushed the desk like a linebacker about to tackle. Cory somehow managed to shove additional steel supports into his spine and braced even more. “I saw the pictures in the paper, of course. Horrible paparazzi,” she added in a low voice. “But I wasn’t sure that you two were…well, pictures sometimes can be deceiving.” She paused in front of the wood monstrosity Cory called a desk. “Is that why you were so resistant when we mentioned Melinda?”
Hurt quashed Vicky’s brief amusement. Just what she needed—the reminder that even Corinne believed Mel was a better fit for him than her. Not that she necessarily wanted him for anything other than sex—a lot of sex—but still.
And if that was the case, why did Corinne look downright giddy now? Was she that desperate for her son to couple up with anybody?
Hello, ego blow number 10,000. She shook it off. It wasn’t relevant. She wasn’t going to second-guess his mother’s motives or even Cory’s, for that matter. She’d agreed to do this thing and she was going for it.
No fear had become her motto years ago out of necessity. It applied now. She was more than capable of facing whatever he threw at her and not only surviving, but thriving.
