Every Little Thing
Page 90

Vaughn studied me carefully. “But not the having sex in public part?”
“What?”
“It didn’t put you off the idea of having sex in public?”
Excitement coursed through me at the thought of having sex somewhere risky with Vaughn. I shook my head, biting my lip to stop myself from grinning like a big kid.
His eyes darkened with heat. “Where?”
Where did I want to have dangerous risky sex with him? “Surprise me.”
His answering smile was wicked with intent.
“No word from Vanessa then?” Emery said as we sipped coffee in the bookstore the next day.
“None.” I tried not to sound as worried as I felt and clearly failed because Dahlia wrapped her hand over mine and squeezed.
“It’ll be fine.”
“The deeper she gets into it with Jack, the more possibility things will not be fine.”
Emery lowered her gaze to her coffee, a slight blush tinting the crest of her cheeks. “Do you really think he’ll hurt her?”
Damn. Was Emery still crushing on him? “The old Jack is not someone who would ever have been interested in anyone as shallow as my sister.”
“He did sleep with Dana Kellerman,” Dahlia pointed out.
“Yes, once. Did he ever go back there? No.”
“Which makes him doing it and screwing over his best friend all the more confusing.”
“Right? It also means I’m almost positive Vanessa is going to get hurt in all of this.”
“Let’s forget about Vanessa’s feelings,” Dahlia huffed. “And worry about how this problem affects you and your inn that you have worked your ass off to make super-duper successful.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“Oh?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think any of my people would ever let the Devlins do anything to hurt me or the inn. You all will crush them if they try.”
My friends grinned at me. “Yeah, and Vaughn will be first in line. How is Mr. Hartwell since you took him bowling?”
“Mr. Hartwell?”
Dahlia smirked. “Well he’s been getting awfully involved in town stuff since you suggested he should and he is in love with Hartwell’s local princess.”
“Cute, very cute. Don’t call him that to his face though, okay? His masculine pride has been hurt enough in the last twenty-four hours.”
“You whipped him at bowling,” she surmised.
“I didn’t whip him but I won. You know, for never having bowled before he did pretty well.”
“I still can’t believe you took Tremaine bowling.”
“Every time he mentions something ordinary that he’s never done my heart hurts a little.” I shrugged. “I just want him to experience a normal life. Do normal things. He works so hard all the time and in the five-star hotel environment. He needs a break from all that hoity-toity, everything has to be perfect, ‘I have to make a ton of money’ stuff.”
“But that is who he is, right?” Emery said. “Vaughn is career-focused.”
“Yes. I know that. And I expect him to be busy a lot. As it is, last night was the first evening we spent real time together. We’ve only seen each other late at night, if you catch my meaning.”
Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Okay, stop. Some of us aren’t getting it regularly.”
“But doesn’t that bother you?” Emery said. “Not the getting it regularly part.” She blushed. “The him working a lot part.”
“We’re both busy with our businesses. I, more than anyone, can understand it.”
“Don’t you want to spend time with him?”
“All of the time. I want to spend an obnoxious amount of time with this man.” I huffed and flopped back in my seat. “I never felt this way with Tom. I actually liked the space from Tom, even in the beginning. But with Vaughn I just want to be with him all the time because every moment we spend together I find out something new about him—his quirks, his sense of humor, his cockiness, his flaws. And do you know what? I like it all. Flaws and all! What is that?”
Emery gave me a dreamy smile. “You’re falling in love.”
“No, I’m not. It’s too soon. I’m just . . . I’m infatuated.” I bit my lips as my worries came to the surface. “Shouldn’t he want to spend all of his time with me?”
“You need to talk to him about this. Now. Before it goes any further,” Dahlia said. “If Jess was here, she’d say the same.”
Jess wasn’t here. She was in Canada on a three-week honeymoon.
“I don’t know . . .”
“Do you really want a husband and a father to your kids who is never there?”
“No.” I didn’t. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. It’ll probably scare him off but I’ll talk to him.”
“After what he said to you”—Emery smiled, referring to the speech he’d given me on the beach, the one that was too good not to share with my best friends—“I don’t think anything you do will scare him off.”
“Yeah,” Dahlia agreed. “He certainly seems to get a kick out of your obnoxious honesty.”
“My obnoxious honesty?” I gestured to her. “Pot.” Then to myself. “Meet kettle.”
She laughed. “Whatever. Just talk to him.”
The bell tinkled over the bookstore door and Emery got up to greet her customers. She returned a minute later and sat down. “They’re just browsing the books, so I told them to come get me if they need me. What were we saying?”