Vision in Faith (Legends of the North Book 3) (7 page)

Her mum's head whipped up at her question. "Why? What have they been saying?"

Vicky leaned back from the accusation in her mum's voice and held her palms up in defence. "Nothing. Why? What would they have to say?"

Her mum's shoulders dropped and she carried on feeding Teazle. "Nothing, dear. Why would they?"

What the hell?
"Mum? I know you and Mrs Altenbury don't get on. I just wondered why?"

"Eat your cake, dear."

"Mum!"

Her mum waved a hand at her. "It's nothing. I just don't like that woman, and for some reason, she has something against our family. I don't know why, and the Lord knows I've tried, but I refuse to give that woman the time of day."

Vicky fingered the little scissor charm on her bracelet so she wouldn't have to look at her mum. "What about her kids?"

"What about them?"

"Do you feel the same way about them?"
 

Vicky felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at her mum's comforting face.
 

"I don't know her children, but they are always polite when I see them in the village. I have nothing against them. It's not their fault their mother is how she is." Her mum squeezed her shoulder as she straightened. "I heard you've been spending some time with the 'Bury boys." Her mum smiled at her then and Vicky relaxed.

Why does it matter what my mum thinks of them?
"Yeah. You remember Emma, don't you?" Her mum nodded, so she carried on. "Well, she just got engaged to Matt, Matthew Altenbury. And their sister Jessica—Jess—used to live with Emma before she moved in with Matt."

"Mmhmm. And the eldest boy?"

Vicky slid her gaze towards her mum, not liking her tone. "What about him?"

"Oh, nothing," she said as she boxed the carrot cake up. "I heard you were in the pub with him, that's all. Just the two of you."

Her mouth dropped open to say something, refute it maybe, but her dad chose that moment to walk in.

"Hi, honey," he said as he pressed his lips to her mum's cheek. Turning to Vicky, he smiled and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "This is a lovely surprise to come home to. Are you staying for tea?"
 

Vicky nodded and, not for the first time, felt a pang of envy because she wanted a relationship like her parents had. She wondered if the love her parents shared still existed for people of her age. Probably not, since most people were too obsessed with their smartphones or tablets to hold an actual conversation with each other.

How was she supposed to get to know someone if they had their nose glued to their phone? She didn't want to meet someone on a dating site, although she'd thought about it several times. She guessed she was still holding out for hearts and flowers.
 

She had a feeling she would be in for a long wait.

***

James picked up his phone and thumbed through to his messages, rolling his eyes when he saw it was only from Matt. James wasn't in the mood to go to the pub, even if it was a Saturday night. In fact, he hadn't been in the mood for anything since that Monday night with Vicky. He hadn't heard from her, which wasn't actually a surprise.
Irritating, but not really surprising.
He scowled at his own thoughts.
 

She confused the hell out of him. Women were usually quite obvious in how they felt about him, but Vicky? She was like a tornado, unpredictable and prone to random changes in direction. He glanced at his phone as another message from Matt popped up.

It's for our engagement. Vicky is invited!

It looked like he'd have to go then if it was for their engagement.
Nothing at all to do with Vicky.
He shook his head.
She might not even turn up. Yeah, right. Who am I trying to kid?

An hour later, he'd showered and changed his clothes and was walking into the pub. He spotted Matt at the bar and headed in his direction. Clapping his hand on Matt's back in greeting, James leaned his back against the bar and scanned the rest of the room, looking for Emma.
Not looking for Vicky. Shut up.
 

She was sitting at a huge table in the back of the room beside the fire. They had the whole raised area roped off just for them, by the looks of it. Emma was lost in conversation with Jess, the two of them sat on their own. He turned back to Matt as he set a pint in front of him.

"Shouldn't I be buying you a drink? Commiserate your loss of freedom and all that?"

Matt laughed as he paid the barmaid. "Are you kidding? I couldn't be happier, bro. Freedom is completely overrated. I can't wait until we actually get married."
 

"Jesus. You're going to be insufferable until that day, aren't you? Fair warning, I might avoid you until the wedding."

"Good thing I'm asking Rob to be my best man then, isn't it. Just wait until it's you and Vicky. Then you'll understand."

James coughed as the sip of beer he took went down the wrong way.
 

Matt thumped him on the back. "You all right there?"

"I would be if you didn't say shit like that." His brother needed to learn to keep comments like that to himself.

"Come on, Emma's waiting for the champagne," Matt said with a grin as he grabbed the bottle and led the way.
 

James followed him and took a seat opposite Jess so he could keep an eye on the door. As they talked dates and venues, he let the conversation wash over him; he had nothing useful to add. Besides, he was far too busy watching the door to concentrate on what they were saying.
 

Rob joined them and then John. Some other friends of Matt's who James hadn't met turned up, as well as some women Emma knew who kept throwing not-so-subtle looks his way.

He was about to give up hope and see if he could slip out without anyone noticing when she walked in. And the sight of her made it more than worth the wait. Skinny jeans clung to her legs, and by the looks she received as she walked past, they showcased her arse spectacularly too. A white top showed off a hint of cleavage and the black bra she wore beneath it. Curled around her neck was a scarf that made him imagine all the uses he could put it to, and his dick twitched.

He started to stand as she reached their table, smiling up at her, until she glared and turned her back to him.
What the fuck?
What had he done to earn that look?

***

Vicky paused, her hand flat against the pub door. Taking in a deep breath, she told herself she could do this. James would very probably be in there. She hadn't spoken to him since that text. But he hadn't tried to contact her since, and well, she just didn't know how she felt. And to be honest, she was more bothered by the fact she'd had that same vision from Monday every night that week.

Apart from briefly talking to her mum, she hadn't told anyone about it. Emma had been so caught up in her engagement—and rightly so—that Vicky didn't want to bring her down. And who else was she going to talk to? She'd considered Jess but, as much as Vicky liked her, they weren't
that
close. Matt? The same reason as Jess. There was no way she would talk to James about it. That would be a real ego stroke for him.

"Oh, yeah, did I not mention I've been dreaming about you every night?"
So
not going to happen
. But there she was, and she'd have to see him. When all she really wanted was to wish Emma well and then get so drunk, she could forget about everything else, for one night at least.

Pushing the door open, she purposely strode through the pub to where Emma had said they would be. As she climbed the stairs to the roped-off area, she saw James. When he noticed her, he started to smile. The same smile he'd worn as he discussed his unborn child with another woman. And she knew it was ridiculous, but she wanted to wipe that smile off his face. Scowling, she turned her back on him, not wanting even to look at him right then.

Emma pulled her into a hug, and she quickly rearranged her face into a smile.
It's supposed to be a celebration, remember?
"Congratulations! I'm so happy for you both."

"Thank you, thank you. There's champagne over there. Help yourself to a glass and then come join us."

Vicky did as she was told, pouring herself a large glass. Angling herself so she didn't have to look at James, she took a seat by Emma and tried to join in the discussion of wedding dress styles. But honestly, who cared? Emma should wear whatever she wanted to; it was her wedding, after all. And Vicky didn't have a clue between sweetheart and illusion necklines. Hairstyles, now
that
she knew about.

After several glasses of champagne, she gave up trying to join in and just listened. Emma sounded happy, and that was really all Vicky needed to know. Clumsily, she got to her feet and weaved her way to the ladies' room. When she walked back out, someone grabbed her arm and dragged her backwards into the darkened corner.

Vicky opened her mouth to scream, a puff of warm air blew over her ear as a hand clamped over her lips. She could tell by the smell of bittersweet coffee mingled with beer that it was James.

"Don't say a word. Just hear me out." He pressed her back against the wall and caged her in with a hand on either side of her head. His hips pinned her in place and when she looked up at him, his jaw was clenched, the muscle in his cheek twitching.
He's mad at me?

Before he said anything, she pushed her palms against his chest. "No." He took a step back as her anger flared. "You don't get to laugh at me, to look down on me, and then think you call the shots. No." Shoving him, he stumbled back, and she took the chance to escape.

Emma looked up as she sat back down next to her. "You okay?"

"Fine. Why?"

"You look a bit flustered, that's all."

"Nope, I'm fine," Vicky said, finishing the champagne in her glass. Helping herself to another, she was so annoyed with herself for saying anything to James.
Maybe I really am going crazy.

Taking a sip of the champagne, she turned to see Matt and Emma kissing. She glanced over to where Rob and Jess were tongue-duelling too.
 

Placing her full glass back on the table, she walked towards the exit. Emma wouldn't notice, and frankly, she'd had enough of happy couples for one night.

Chapter 8

James had stood outside the ladies', where Vicky had left him, stunned. Leaning against the wall, he replayed her words, trying to make some sense of them. When had he laughed at her? It didn't make sense. And he certainly would never have looked down on her. Why would he? Who was he to look down on anyone?

He pushed off the wall and made his way slowly back to their table. As he scanned where they all were sitting, he couldn't see Vicky anywhere. Rob and Jess were caught up in each other, and Matt and Emma seemed oblivious to everything as well. Pushing through the crowded bar area, he headed for the door. When he made it outside, he started to jog in the direction of Vicky's flat, assuming she'd walked home.

Before he reached the edge of the village, he saw her and slowed to a trot. She was angry and probably drunk—not a good combination. But he didn't know why, so for once, he wasn't sure what to do. It was a feeling he didn't particularly like. He was used to being in control, getting things done; that was how he worked. He wasn't sure that would work with Vicky though.

She was at her front door already, and he hesitated at the top of the path, not knowing if he should just leave her be since he at least knew she was home safe. When he heard what sounded like a sob after she dropped her keys, he darted to pick them up. He held them out to her, but she didn't take them.

His mind went blank when he stared into her eyes, and his body took over. Cradling her jaw with one hand, he leaned down slowly, never taking his eyes off hers, so she had plenty of time to stop him if she wanted to. She didn't, so he brushed his lips against hers gently. Leaning back fractionally, he said, "Why on earth would I laugh at you, snippy."

Tilting her head away from him, she asked, "Snippy?"

"Yeah, you know, like one of the seven dwarfs, but more spiky. And scissors," he said with a shrug.
 

She shook her head and his lips grazed hers. When she didn't answer, he took a step closer until she was backed against the door, and he pocketed her keys. He curled his fingers in her loose hair while his other hand gripped her hip. His mouth covered hers again, but less gently that time.

Tracing her lips with his tongue, he nipped at the bottom one until she opened for him. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and then pressed his hips against her when she groaned. He was becoming uncomfortably hard as his jeans tightened and he wanted her to feel what she did to him. Her hands brushed up his chest, and she twined her fingers in his hair, tugging on it. It was his turn to groan.

That tug travelled down his spine, right to his balls, and he broke the kiss before he was no longer able to stop it. They were both breathing fast, and he held her hips with both hands, his fingers digging in. He didn't want to stop, but he knew they needed to talk. She was pissed off about something, and he didn't want to give her another reason to add to his seemingly growing list.
 

"Let's take this inside." When she gave him a heated look, he added, "We need to talk." Her shoulders tensed, but he just pulled her keys from his pocket and handed them to her. Taking them from him, she unlocked the door, and Teazle launched herself at him. Laughing, he picked her up and stroked her head.

"She's not lacking in personality, is she?"
 

Vicky gave him a weak smile, and he put Teazle down, kicking the door shut behind him. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he waited until Vicky looked him in the eye.

"I swear, I have never laughed at you. Cursed you in frustration, yes, but never laughed at you. I would never look down on anyone, Vicky. That's more my mother's style, unfortunately. But especially not you. You're going to be running your own business soon, and I have nothing but admiration for that. Especially as you seem to be doing it all by yourself."