Page 34 of Let Me Love You

Liquid heat settles deep in my stomach, flowing until it’s molten lava. I’d lick every crease on his body if …

“Mommy!” Summer hollers from the living room. “My stomach is growling.”

I shove Victor again, and this time he moves away. “How about we go eat dinner?”

“I’m looking forward to eating whatever you cooked,” he says, his light blue eyes a shade darker. “I’m sure it will be the most amazing food I’ve ever tasted.”

Why am I now thinking about him eating other things?

A few minutes later, we’re all seated at Victor’s dining room table. The room is cold and uninviting, but maybe I can redecorate it into something that makes it feel more like home. Just because this is temporary—something I desperately need to remember after what happened by the entryway—doesn’t mean we have to live in a house that looks staged.

All of the food is in the center of the huge, rectangular table. I also made garlic bread, roasted vegetables—the non-canned kind—and a tossed salad to go with the shrimp scampi. Victor piles food on his plate after serving Summer and me. He lifts a fork to his mouth but pauses halfway to his lips. “Why aren’t you eating?”

I swirl the serving spoon around in the air, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in my stomach. “I will. I just want to see how you like it first.”

“Are you doubting your culinary skills?” He points over at Summer, who is already chowing down. “It looks like she likes it.”

Summer grins around a bite of her vegetables. “It’s super yummy, Mommy.”

“Thank you, dear,” I say to Summer. Turning my attention back to Victor, I squirm as he stares me down. “This is your first home-cooked meal, so eat, or else I’ll whack you with this.” I hold the serving spoon up to show him I’m serious.

A grin curves his lips. He glances at Summer, who isn’t paying us any attention, before saying, “I might enjoy that a little too much. Now, please, eat before the food gets cold.”

Aren’t billionaires supposed to only care about themselves? I’m not sure how many of them actually care about others eating before their food gets cold.

He brings a bite to his mouth and chews it slowly as if he’s trying to get a taste of every flavor. His eyes close as he swallows. Then he sighs. Oh, God, he hates it. Well, I guess that’s the end of me cooking for him. I can hire a chef if he hates—

“This is the best food I’ve ever tasted,” he says before I can finish my thought. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

I raise a brow. “I cook every day. You don’t eat it.”

“Well, from now on, I’m eating what you make.”

Against my better judgment, I sit a little taller at his compliment. Since when do I care about what he thinks of me? I need to cut this out before I start searching him out for praise.

“Me too,” Summer chimes in, speaking around a mouthful of food.

I reach over and pat her hand. “Thank you. Now make sure you eat all your vegetables.”

Victor takes another bite and savors it just like the last. After he swallows, he says, “Before I forget, how do you feel about volunteering?”

I never had enough time to volunteer, but I always wanted to. “It’s a worthy pursuit.”

Victor smiles. “There’s a clinic that I donate to every year, and they were impressed with your resume.” I open my mouth to question how the hell he would get his hands on my credentials, but he plows forward. “They don’t have a lot of money to pay, and you are financially secure, so I thought I’d ask you if you wanted to volunteer there.”

Real live butterflies erupt in my chest, and tears fill my eyes. Victor Barlowe. The billionaire whom I always assumed didn’t have a heart actually does? “Yes, I’d love to volunteer.”

Chapter 15

Serenity

Ifall on my bed, landing on my back, and the bottom of my dress poofs out around my legs. These dresses are too restrictive with the corset I wear underneath, but Victor picked out this outfit and had it delivered specially for this party.

It has been two days since I touched Victor. Two days since he said he found me a volunteer opportunity. Two days since butterflies took flight and I didn’t resist them. If Summer hadn’t kept me running during that time, I would’ve thought more about what that meant.

But now, we have to attend Sebastian’s birthday party at some nightclub. And with how my emotions have been all jumbled, a dark, intimate place with alcohol might not be the best place for us to go together.

Summer leans over me, and her red ringlets drape over my face. Concern flickers across her delicate features, and my stomach twists. If I wasn’t pushed by those bastard loan sharks, we’d be back home, and her life wouldn’t be so out of whack.