Page 78 of Holiday Home 4
“Portugal,” Victoria said. “Where much of my family is from. I lived there until I was seven, and then we still made trips back every summer. Long, long road trips, visiting every grandparent, aunt, uncle, and cousin. For not a very big country, I sure spent a lot of time in the car whenever I was there.”
“So, itisPortugal,” Liam said, announcing his thought as though he’d won a prize by finally figuring it out.
Victoria’s raised eyebrow led him to reveal that he’d been wondering for a while now where she was originally from.
“Sim, Portugal, a terra da minha família,” Victoria said, revealing a mild accent when she spoke Portuguese. “Not my land, however. I... don’t return very much. Not anymore.”
“A bad break with family?” Liam asked softly.
“With some elements of my family, yes. My mother, especially.” The game remained paused, and Victoria glanced toward her garden. For a few moments, she was no longer herusual inscrutable self, and Liam could practically peer into the past and see the time when she and her mother had gardened together. “My parents and brother moved back to Portugal when I was nineteen to tend to my ailing grandmother. I... refused to go. I had a scholarship to a good school, and I wanted to complete that, but my mother wished for me to ask for an extended leave. I didn’t. It has been a wound of fifteen years, worsened by my grandmother’s death six months later. I’m not certain if it will ever wholly mend.”
“I hope it does,” Liam said, unsure of what else there was to say.
“So do I,” Victoria said. Shaking her head, the dismal thoughts gathering over her head dispersed. “If you end up watchingThe Sandlot,I’ll join you. I haven’t watched it in a long time. I wonder if I’ll still be able to quote the movie fully. I could, once. From beginning to end.”
Propping his mouth up with a smile, he nodded enthusiastically. The game resumed. Unfortunately, having recovered her focus, Liam proved unable to close out the game, even if it was the closest to victory that he’d come. It might have made seeing his king put into checkmate even worse than usual, being so close.
Over the next three games, he continued to taste defeat. For a little while, it seemed likely that it’d be the only thing he tasted tonight. Victoria changed that with an offer to cook them some dinner.
“Yeah, if it’s not a hassle,” he immediately replied.
“It’s not,” she assured him. “We can pick up play again while we eat out here. It’s a beautiful afternoon, and I think it’ll stay beautiful into the evening.”
Nodding along, Liam shoved himself up and offered his immediate services to whatever Victoria intended to make. He felt like he earned a little bit of approval by doing so. And thena little more once she discovered he wasn’t completely useless in the kitchen.
Thank you, Tess!Liam thought, working to dice a few onions for the dish.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Frenetic
The dinner was good. Maybe not quite at the level of one of Tess’s dinners, but he thought it unwise to make that comparison outside of his mind. Chessandcooking; apparently, Tess was allowed to lock down any hobby that started with the letter C. Nevertheless, he thoroughly enjoyed eating dinner with Victoria. Especially because he had a massive appetite after three rounds of passionate lovemaking with heralmostsister-in-law.
It was the only good taste allowed in his mouth. Defeat was the other thing he consumed—a lot of it. After seven chess matches in a row—three before dinner, two during, two after—that she’d so far claimed victory in, Liam gritted his teeth. He’dbeensoclose, and now it seemed like the natural order had restored itself.
He sat with his hands clasped before his mouth, staring at the chessboard. She’d trounced himagain.He hung around longer, knew the openings, even had a few good moves in the mid-game, but he still couldn’t seem to bring her down once they transitioned past move fifteen or twenty. Were his plans too ambitious, not ambitious enough? Was he too obvious about them, not committing hard enough? He really couldn’t tell.
“You’re staring rather intensely,” Victoria noted, sipping from her wine glass—she’d gotten herself the real stuff, and he’d just stuck with water. Maintaining this “intense focus” really upped his thirst, and he’d nearly drained a whole pitcher’s worth in the past hour. There was nearly more ice than liquid left in it, where it sat on the table.
“I just really want to win,” he grunted.
“I can see that,” Victoria said, brilliant eyes sparkling with a hint of mirth. “That badly?”
His eyes lifted, meeting hers. “Yes.”
Victoria didn’t respond. She only took another sip of her wine, longer than the last, and let him have the time to review. Afterward, they leaped into their eighth game of the day, which was now evolving into a crisp, balmy evening.
He got to play white, which meant he could go first. So, as he’d done twice already, he went for the Ruy Lopez opening. Having mostly played the London when going up against Victoria, he’d yet to show he knew this one. Maybe it was the wrong avenue for him to take against a more experienced player, but he’d read, watched, and been told repeatedly it was worth adding to his repertoire. It was aggressive, so it should grant him some tactical options, and maybe he could catch her off guard, which he felt he needed to accomplish inoneof these games.
Most importantly, he’d secretly practiced this opening with Tess. She’d admitted that she didn’t use it often, so hopefully, Victoria wouldn’t be too practiced against it.
Drawing in a deep breath, Liam advanced his king’s pawn two spaces.
Victoria did the same thing, causing them to butt heads in the center of the board.
Liam freed his rightmost knight.
Victoria did the same thing.