Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2)

His grin faded immediately and a glare settled on his face.

“That would have been unfortunate…for Chance,” he said, his voice filled with dire promise. This time it was Vicki who laughed.

Chance remained in the kitchen, giving them space. He was clearly treating this the way he would any other of Vicki’s dates or outings. After his initial teasing words, he had put down his drink, and assumed his intimidating business-as-usual stance. Ty was no longer his buddy; he was merely the man Chance’s charge was dating.

“Where are we going?”

“Chance knows,” Ty said, dropping a kiss on her nose. “I’ll see you in about half an hour, okay?”

“I need to change. I wasn’t expecting to go out tonight. I’m not dressed for the cold.”

“Okay. Chance will let me know when you’re there.”

“What should I wear?”

“Dress comfortably.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I told him traffic would be a fucking nightmare,” Chance grumbled beneath his breath, while Vicki’s wide eye took in their surroundings. She could not quite believe where he had brought her. “But did he listen? Nooo. Did he care? Nooo. Why not? Because I’m the hapless twat who has to do the driving, aren’t I? He just gets to be the boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Vicki corrected distractedly, unbuckling her seatbelt. Chance held the door for her, his eyes busily surveying the echoing—largely devoid of people—underground car park on Cornwall Road.

They were in South Bank.

Vicki knew this area of London well, of course. She visited frequently. For shopping and entertainment. Sometimes with family, more often with friends. But she would spend this evening with Ty, and she felt a simmer of excitement in her stomach.

A date, that’s what this was. Not just dinner, but an actual date. The date…

Tyler-made just for her.

They took a short elevator ride to ground level, where Chance led her out from the sheltered car park and onto the street. Once there, he opened a huge, black umbrella to ward off the sullen drizzle that had plagued them all day.

Thanks to the dampness and humidity in the air, Vicki’s hair was a ball of frizz. She’d hidden it beneath a fuzzy red hat that her mother had made for her. It was a cold mid-October evening, and she tucked her hands into her coat pockets as they walked toward the brightly lit Eye in the distance. Despite the cold, South Bank was bustling with activity. Laughter, happy squeals, chatter, and clashing music traveled from different directions as buskers showed off their talents. It was a joyful cacophony, and Vicki loved it.

The cold breeze carried the scent of fried food, and she could actually taste the caramelized sugar in the air from a nearby candy floss vendor.

Ty was waiting for them just across the road from the car park. He was standing beneath a lamppost, and Vicki’s heart did a turn in her chest. She couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her lips at the welcome sight of him.

He also held an umbrella, but his other hand was tucked into his front jeans pocket. He was wearing his good jeans, not the faded ones. A darker blue—less worn—pair that also fit him like the proverbial glove. With it he wore a white, open collared dress shirt, and a fur-lined denim jacket. His brown hair gleamed with gold highlights beneath the lamppost.

He was carrying what looked like a camera bag over one broad shoulder, and her gaze dropped to it for one baffled moment. She lifted her eyes back to the warm, welcoming smile that had lifted his lips and crinkled his eyes. He hadn’t shaved today, and his stubble darkened his jaw. It made him look rougher around the edges than she was used to seeing him.

“Hey,” he greeted, when they reached him. His arm slipped around Vicki’s waist. He tugged her possessively against his side, and dropped a kiss on her lips.

“You look pretty,” he complimented.

Vicki blushed like a schoolgirl. So silly. He had said similar things to her before, but this was their first real date, and the compliment made her feel giddy and giggly.

She was wearing a plain sage green blouse—front hem tucked into the waist of her blue skinny jeans—knee-length brown leather boots with a platform heel, and an adorable red Victorian-style frock coat that she’d found in a thrift store a few years back. The outfit was rounded off with her cute wool hat.

“You look pretty too,” she said, then went an even deeper shade of red. “In a handsome way, I mean.”

He chuckled and gave her another kiss. His arm around her waist tightened and he started to walk, with only one glance back at Chance to ensure the man was following.

Chance maintained his usual discreet distance. In fact—when Vicki craned her neck to see where he was—she realized that he was hanging further back than usual.