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Chapter Seventeen
Vance hummed as he read through the millionth page of documents on the case he was working on. A lot of Lil’s music was like bat claws scraping over bleached bones but some of it was dare he say…catchy? She’d probably despair if he told her so, and the thought made him smile. Which was saying something because combing through all these records for evidence in this derivatives dispute was mind-numbing at best.
It’s not that he liked dealing with all these complex financial instruments—it was fun like a nail through the foot—but he understood them and that was a lucrative thing for a person to be able to wrap their head around so he’d take it.
This case was dragging on and made him feel like someone had scooped his brain out of his skull with a lobster pick by the end of the day, but unlike before, he had something to look forward to. Well, more accurately, someone.
It had been a month’s worth of weekend visits now, and he didn’t even play at leaving on Saturdays anymore. No, he’d head up to Thistledon on Friday evenings, Lil would have dinner ready and they’d have a nice meal before falling into a cauldron of kink and sex and cuddles and he had to drag himself home to his Clover City townhouse on Sunday nights.
Yeah he’d work some while he was at the cabin because he still had to get his billable hours in and toil away on this frigging case if he ever wanted it to be over, but it was in between spanking Lil, feeding Lil, changing the diapers he liked to keep her in while they were together, giving her bottles while she snuggled in his arms, and the myriad orgasms they gave each other.
As much as they knew each other’s bodies and fetishes inside and out, he still felt like she was holding back. It frustrated him that he could sift through reams of financial data to find a tip-off that some asshat had embezzled or a transferring entity had withheld important information or whatever else he was looking for, but he couldn’t get this woman to show him her whole self.
It was possible he should be satisfied with everything she did give him—every inch of her body, an agreement she wouldn’t take another night shift job because it wasn’t safe, letting him ferry her to the market on the weekend and get her groceries so he didn’t have to worry she’d be walking on Ninety-Two in the dark or starving.
But that was the thing; he was almost never satisfied. Which was great when you were a kid from the wrong side of the tracks trying to infiltrate some of the most elite institutions in the world, maybe less great when it came to nascent relationships. Because despite how well he felt like he knew Lil, looking at a calendar would tell him otherwise. And it’s not like they saw each other all the time either. No, just forty-eight blissful hours that bookended his time bent over spreadsheets, dealing with firm finances and politics, and supervising associates and paralegals.
What would it be like to have Lil with him all the time? The thought clanged like a gong in his mind, making his ears ring and his vision do that funny dolly zoom, vertigo effect. It would be great is what it would be.
He’d be able to hug her instead of text, daddy her instead of call, and while they could sure as hell go up to Thistledon sometimes—hello, privacy, and also the ability to cut a switch from right outside his door—he wouldn’t have to drive two hours one way to see her. And maybe she could find a job in Clover City. Or not find one at all.
It was a bonkers idea that his pragmatic little girl with her practical magic would totally blow off because it was way too soon to be talking about him taking that more permanent-seeming responsibility for her. But how different was it really from what they were already doing? Not, as far as he was concerned. He’d just get to see her more, and maybe shove past some of those ripped fishnets, that black tulle, and sooty eye makeup to get to what actually made her tick. Besides her goth rock, her carefully curated dark aesthetic, and how much she loved her sister, anyway.
A knock at his door distracted him from dreams of domestic bliss, and when he looked up, he found Arthur there.
“What’s up, old man?”
Arthur looked down his aristocratic nose, and Vance grinned back.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see if you were free for lunch. Although maybe we should skip food in favor of a barber shop. You’re starting to look like a yeti.”
“I’m not sure what the problem is,” Vance told him, shaking his head so his hair flew out.
But really, whatwasthe problem? Lil liked to card her fingers through his hair when they were watching TV or use fistfuls to grip while he was giving her head—if she wasn’t tied down anyway—and besides, Yeti comes upon innocent village girl trapped in a snowstorm and offers warmth in exchange for sex sounded like a great role play. He’d have to text Lil that one later. Sometimes she liked to thrift for costumes and—
Arthur shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose just above his signature glasses. Once he’d settled his frames just so, he eyed Vance.
“You’re seeming more chipper lately.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Vance shrugged as he slammed shut his laptop and marked his place in the document with a fresh sticky note.
They hadn’t talked much about Lilith except for Arthur asking how his “houseguest” was when Nikki wasn’t around, and giving him the eyebrow when Vance would say she was still there.
“Does this have anything to do with your weekends in Thistledon and a certain…habitué?”
“I don’t even know what that means, so probably not,” he replied, knowing goddamn well Arthur meant Lilith.
Vance pulled his suit jacket on from where he’d hung it on the back of his chair, came out from behind the desk, and headed for the door.
Arthur fell in behind him through the narrow hallway until they reached the elevator.
“Sojourner? Visitant? Guest?”
“Ah, got me with that last one,” Vance muttered while he jabbed the Down button. “That must be how you won Saoirse over, huh? With your really big…vocabulary?”
Arthur sniffed but didn’t argue, and the door slid open to reveal an empty carriage. Good. They didn’t have to stop talking.
“So when do we get to meet this mystery woman of yours?”
