Every Little Thing
Page 32

I hated that I was so attracted to him. Yet I didn’t hate it as much as I hated it yesterday.
In fact, maybe it kind of thrilled me.
“So there was no one back in New York? Or are all the stories of your playboy ways true?”
“Have you been Googling me, Miss Hartwell?”
And we were back to Miss Hartwell. “Emery told me.”
“Has she been Googling me?”
“No, you arrogant ass.” I laughed. “Her grandmother used to read the society pages to her.”
“Ah. How thrilling for her.”
“You didn’t like it? Is that why you came out here?”
“Why all the sudden questions?”
“Well, you see, when you helped me out tonight you made me hate you less.”
He grinned and I triumphed. “Ah. My mistake.”
“Yeah. You should have kept on walking when you saw my doors open.”
Just like that his grin disappeared.
“I’m not the only one who isn’t sure of you,” I said. “If you’re trying to make Hartwell your home, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
“What does that mean?”
I ignored his defensive tone, one that a lesser person might be afraid of. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you’ve figured out that what makes Hartwell Hartwell is the fact that it’s a small town where everyone knows each other and we all play our part. We’re involved in some way. Me, I get involved in events when I can, and I’m always a listening ear when someone wants to talk. Coop, he helps old ladies across the street, pisses off Uly’s Garage by working on people’s cars when they can’t afford a mechanic, and he’s the owner of their favorite watering hole. Jess, she’s new to town, but she’s a doctor. She diagnosed Anita last year and gave her more time with Old Archie. Dahlia helps make the costumes for the winter carnival every year, and is dragged into making costumes for the school plays a lot, too. But then there’s you and Emery. Em is too shy to get involved and so the town doesn’t look at her as one of them. She’s still an outsider. As for you, you don’t get involved, either. You have all that money and your fancy hotel, and you do nothing for the town.”
“Outside of helping the town’s economy thrive by bringing more tourists and business to them.”
I’d annoyed him. That hadn’t been my intention. “I know you do that. They know you do that. But have you ever even been to the music festival or the annual punkin chunkin’ competition or the winter carnival? Have you donated to the causes these events raise money for? Or have you ever considered contacting Kell Summers, our councilman and events guy, and asking him if there’s anything you can do to help with the organization of an event? You have no idea how something that simple will make people look at you differently, and start to see you as one of them.”
“By helping organize an event?” He looked incredulous but I could see he was listening to what I had to say.
“Let me put it bluntly—”
“That wasn’t you putting it bluntly?”
“Tremaine, everyone thinks you think that you’re better than us. They think you have a giant stick up your ass. Show them you’re fun and human. It will go a long way with them.”
“Yes, that was definitely more blunt.”
I grinned at him. “I’m just trying to help.”
“By suggesting I remove the stick from up my ass?”
“Yup.”
He shot me a bemused look and then stared out at the ocean.
I wondered if he was still considering my advice, but when he spoke his words weren’t the ones I’d been expecting. “Despite our differences I hope you know I would never walk away from a woman in trouble. I would never have just walked on by when I saw the inn had been broken into.”
At his stiff reply, I touched his knee without even thinking. “I know that.”
He glanced down at my hand and I realized what I was doing.
I snatched my hand back. “You know I walked into my office, calling the police, so confident that Stu wouldn’t hurt me, and I just strolled in there quite the thing and gave the asshole a chance to swipe at me, and he did. I still can’t believe he did that, and now I have to hide it from Cooper and Jess so they don’t, you know, try to kill him, and I just don’t how I can hide anything from those two—”
I was cut off by the strong, warm hand that curled around mine.
I looked down at Vaughn’s beautiful, masculine hand, holding my small one.
“You’re rambling.”
“I do that sometimes.”
“I know. You’ve just never directed a ramble at me before.”
“It annoyed Tom.” I wondered if it annoyed Vaughn.
His answer was to squeeze my hand and then let it go.
My rambling didn’t annoy Vaughn.
And just like that I was again overcome with the urge to throw myself at him.
Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, kicked up into gear again by the memory of Stu attacking me. Or maybe it was because I was just an idiot woman easily seduced by men like Vaughn Tremaine. Or maybe, and this was more likely, I was the kind of woman who was attracted to the wounded.
I liked to rescue people.
Not in an aren’t I a wonderful heroine, running around saving people? kind of way. I just . . . So many people looked past other people’s pain. Mostly because we had our own pain to deal with, it was too hard to deal with some stranger’s.