Every Little Thing

by Samantha Young

I was going to kill them later.

  “Yeah.” Ben nodded.

  “How much is it these days, Ben?” I nodded to the rifle.

  He pointed behind him at two big signs. The first said, Five Dollars—Hit Three Blue Hens and the second, And Win Prize of Your Choice.

  I’d never in my life hit one hen.

  Vaughn handed over ten dollars.

  “I would have paid for my own.”

  He smirked. “Oh, I’d gladly pay a thousand dollars to see this happen, Miss Hartwell. Five bucks is nothing.”

  “Hey, guess what? I don’t think I like you stick-free after all.”

  Vaughn threw his head back in laughter, and I knew I’d just lied. I liked him stick-free. I liked him stick-free a whole lot.

  Complaining under my breath, I picked up the rifle in front of me and took aim.

  And missed.

  I shot a look out of the corner of my eye and watched Vaughn lift the rifle and point it with expertise. He took aim. He fired.

  One blue hen down.

  Determined now, I tried again.

  I missed.

  Vaughn hit two more in the time it took me to miss once.

  “Damn it!” I glared over my shoulder at Cooper, who was shaking with the effort to control his laughter. “Are you happy?”

  He just laughed harder.

  “Here.”

  I jumped because the word had been said right in my ear. Vaughn had put down his rifle and was standing right next to me. Right in my personal space. I could smell his cologne and see the silver striations in the iris of his eyes.

  My body tingled all over at his close proximity.

  “What are you doing?” I panicked as he slid in behind me, my ass grazing the top of his thighs. I tensed as he wrapped his arms around me, taking both my arms in his hands and adjusting me.

  “You’re holding it wrong.” His voice rumbled in my ear.

  I squeezed my eyes closed as I got a flashback of lying beneath him, feeling him move inside me while he whispered dirty things to me.

  “Princess,” he murmured. “Are you listening?”

  Why are you doing this to me?

  “I’m holding it wrong,” I managed to wheeze out. “Okay. Show me how.”

  “With pleasure.” His tone was filled with filth.

  “The gun, Tremaine,” I bit out.

  He chuckled, the movement causing his body to shift against mine. “Right.” He adjusted my stance for a few moments, his hands caressing me as he adjusted my hips, too. Frankly, it felt like an excuse to feel me up.

  “You done?” I snapped.

  He laughed again. “Sure. Try now. Follow the sight line. Yes, like that. Now wait. Hold it. You want to pull the trigger just as the tip of the hen’s face comes into the sight line.”

  And my smartbuttery got the best of me. “I hope you don’t take the same advice in the bedroom.”

  Vaughn leaned closer, the slight bristle of his cheek brushing mine as he whispered, “We both know for a fact that I don’t.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Bastard.”

  “You walked into that one.” He pulled back before I could dispute that comment. “Now follow my advice.”

  I waited. I concentrated. I followed his advice.

  And I freaking hit the thing!

  “Whoop!” I spun around, and smacked him playfully across the chest. “I did it!”

  “You did. But I still won.”

  “I don’t care.” I shot Cooper a triumphant grin. “I hit the damn hen.”

  “Yeah, you did,” he chuckled.

  “It only took you twenty-nine years,” Cat added.

  “You, Cat Lawson, are a party pooper.” I looked at Joey. “You want to play next?”

  He shook his head. “I want to ride the roller coaster.”

  “Cool.” I quirked an eyebrow at Vaughn. “What do you say, Tremaine? Want to hit the roller coaster? Or are you chicken?”

  He gave me an exasperated look. “Really?”

  “Well are you?”

  “Roller coaster it is.” He started walking away. “Lead the way again, Joey.”

  “You two are children,” Jess admonished, stepping forward. “And it would be funny except you haven’t even noticed that Rex has gone.”

  My stomach dropped as I realized she was right. “What? Where? When?”

  “About a minute ago, when Vaughn started using that”—she gestured to the rifle range—“to cop a feel.”

  Guilt weighed on me. “I need to go after him.”

  “Are you dating him?”

  “No. We’re just friends. I told you that. I just . . .”

  “We all know how he feels about you,” she said. “I know I’m pushing you toward Vaughn but I feel bad for Rex now. He looked upset.”

  “Jess. Don’t. I’m already guilt-ridden here. I have to go. Tell Joey I’m sorry.”

  “Doesn’t anyone want to claim the prize?” Ben asked.

  “I’ll deal with it,” Jess said. “Go.”

  Without another word I hurried away, running through the park and out of the main gates. That’s when I ran into a problem because Rex could have gone in either direction. I decided to head out the way we’d come in from Main Street. To my relief, just as I turned onto Main Street, I saw him in the crowds up ahead. Thankfully he was taller than the average guy, and he was wearing a red T-shirt with an album cover on the back of it.

  “Rex! Wait up!”

  But he either didn’t hear me or he was ignoring me. I shoved through the crowds, apologizing to those I pushed accidentally or bumped into. Finally I caught up with him.

  “Rex.” I pulled on his arm, drawing him to a stop. “Where are you going?”

  He stared at me, incredulous hurt in his dark brown eyes. “Really?”

  “That?” I gestured behind me, indicating the moment at the park. “That was nothing. We were just needling each other. That’s what we do.”

  “If you believe that, you’re in denial.”

  “Rex.”

  “No.” He cut me off. “I . . . I’ve asked myself what I’m doing these past few weeks. Convinced myself that you were what I wanted and that you were worth the wait. And I’m not saying you’re not, but I think we both know that I would be waiting forever for you.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you. If I knew what I wanted, I would tell you.”

  “You do know what you want. You’re just smart enough to realize he’s an asshole, and that you should stay away from him.”

  “Rex.”

  “I hope either there is more to the guy than that smug arrogance I just saw, or if there isn’t, I hope you come to your senses. What I do know is that there was more than one moment back there where everyone but you two melted away. It was like we didn’t exist. And I’m standing there like an idiot trying to convince myself that I can win you from him. I can’t win you from him . . .” He flung his hand out in the direction we’d come from. “I mean, fuck, he’s like a movie star or something. And he’s successful and rich, and so confident I want to knock his front teeth out.”

  That was kind of funny, and I struggled not to laugh.

  Rex saw and gave an unwilling sigh of amusement.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Don’t be. You’ve been honest with me from the beginning. I just wasn’t listening.”

  We were quiet a moment.

  Finally he sighed. “I’m going to go.”

  “No. Stay.” I reached for his hand. “Enjoy the rest of the festival with me.”

  “Nah. I can’t. Staying would just make me feel worse. I can’t let another woman fuck with my head, unintentionally or not.”

  Understanding it and hating that I’d hurt him, I let go of his han
d. “There’s someone great out there for you, Rex.”

  “Someone that’ll take on all my bullshit like you with Vaughn?”

  “Not like me and Vaughn. The woman that falls in love with you will actually trust you. Because you’ll love her. You won’t ever think she’s not good enough.”

  Hearing the slight crack in my voice, Rex pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight. I felt his sweet kiss on top of my head, and once more cursed my goddamn stupid heart.

  “You deserve better, Bailey Hartwell,” he whispered.

  “I feel like you’re saying good-bye.” Tears welled in my eyes at the abrupt turn of events.

  He let go of me, his expression telling me I wasn’t going to see him anytime soon, and then as quickly as he’d come into my life, Rex McFarlane vanished out of it and into the festival crowd.

  Melancholy swelled over me and I turned, despondent, looking for an escape. I moved through the bodies, not hearing or seeing anything as I got free of the masses on the boardwalk and let my feet take me somewhere isolated.

  I ended up on the beach, following it around the coast until I came to a tranquil, solitary spot.

  Pulling my dress tight under my thighs so I didn’t burn myself on the hot sand, I sat down and stared out at the ocean, at the way the sun glinted off the water. It was a sight that usually filled me with peace.

  But today I couldn’t find it.

  My life was too chaotic.

  A shadow fell over me and I peered up through my sunglasses, my heart slamming against my rib cage at the sight of Vaughn standing over me holding two iced teas. He held one out to me and, dumbfounded, I took it, sipping it as he sat down so close beside me our elbows bumped.

  We drank our iced teas in silence, both of us staring out at the water and enjoying the reprieve the sea breeze provided from the heat of the sweltering sun above us.

  “Did I scare him away?” Vaughn eventually asked.

  He must have followed me from the park, witnessed the scene between Rex and me, and followed me out to the beach. Why? Why would he do that?

  God, I didn’t know anymore. “I think I did. Or we did.”

  “We did?”

  “Apparently we share a vibe, you and I,” I said unhappily.

  “Apparently we do,” he replied just as unhappily. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line at the park.”

  More silence fell between us, and it reminded me of the night we’d spent on the boardwalk before the epic sex. It was comfortable between us—as comfortable as two people who were sexually aware of each other could be.

  I didn’t know when I’d become comfortable with him. How had that happened? Because I didn’t trust him, obviously.

  With your heart.

  Right. I didn’t trust him with my heart, but . . . he still made me feel safe. And I got a thrill out of verbal sparring with him. He excited me.

  How goddamn confusing.

  “You were gone for a while,” I said.

  “My hotel in New York. The Montgomery. Remember I said there were problems with it? Yeah, well I went up there to check it out. Turned out my manager had a coke addiction.”

  Somehow the magnitude of the problem he’d been facing made me feel better about the fact that he’d stayed away so long. “Did you solve the problem?”

  “Yes. I have a new manager. I’ve fired the people who were slacking and rehired people he fired who weren’t slacking. The hotel is back on track.”

  “And you got to spend time with your dad?”

  He nodded. “He’s the only thing I miss about New York now.”

  “You really do like it here, don’t you?”

  Vaughn studied my face. “What’s not to like?”

  Frustration welled up in me. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Smolder at me.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t realize I was.”

  “Well you are. And I want you to stop.”

  “I’d like to stop hearing your voice in my head saying, ‘I bet you’ve thought about it. Fucking the hostile Princess of the Boardwalk into submission,’ but I can’t.”

  I squirmed beside him, remembering my aggressive come-on. “Is that what this is about then? You sticking your nose into my business? Your obvious jealousy over Rex and what I think now was you putting it to him at the fun park with all that rifle adjustment stuff?”

  “Obvious?” He scowled.

  “Yes, obvious jealousy. Are you going to deny it?”

  He finished his iced tea and placed the empty cup beside him. “No. I wanted to kill him for breathing the same air as you.”

  A sad thrill moved through me. “Is it just about the sex?”

  “It was pretty spectacular.”

  “Vaughn.”

  He sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest to wrap his arms around them. “I try to stay away, I do, because I know I can’t give you what you want.” He looked at me with those pale, soulful eyes of his and I wanted to cry at the longing in them. Why? Why did he have to be the guy that looked at me that way? “I had the chance in New York to sleep with another woman. I couldn’t. So . . . no . . . it’s not just about the sex. But I’m . . .” He shrugged, seeming at a loss.

  I let him off the hook, looking away so I didn’t have to see his expression, the one that tore at my insides. I didn’t even want to think about the idea of him sleeping with someone else, or how confusing and thrilling it was that he hadn’t. I searched for a subject change. “You must miss your dad. You two seem so close.”

  “We are. He’s my best friend.”

  Wow. That was nice. And surprisingly honest. “I’m glad. There are many people with parental issues these days. It’s sort of depressing.”

  “Are you one of them?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “My mom is a little off the wall, but she loves me, I love her. And my dad is just the best guy ever.”

  Vaughn took a while to process that.

  So long in fact I had to break the silence for fear I’d reach over to hold his hand, to touch him one last time before I got up the courage to sever this connection between us. “How is Liam?”

  I heard his soft chuckle. “He’d love it that you call him Liam and still call me Tremaine.”

  “You keep calling me Miss Hartwell,” I explained.

  He shrugged and I felt the movement against my shoulder. Such an innocent touch, but it sent goose bumps up all over my arms. “My dad is well enough. I worry about him sometimes.”

  The confession stilled me. Was Vaughn actually talking to me, as in . . . sharing his feelings? “Oh?” I treaded carefully, not wanting to scare him off.

  “Remember how I told you about how much my mother loved my father?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, if possible, my father loved her even more. When she died . . . he was a mess for a while. The only thing that stopped him from falling apart was me. I had a nanny but my dad was always there to tuck me in at night, read me a story, talk about our days. A day didn’t go by that I didn’t feel his presence in my life. As the years went on he dated but never anything too serious. Then about fifteen years ago he started a relationship with Diane. A very wonderful lady.” I could tell from the tenderness in his voice that he was fond of this Diane person. “While I was in New York she pushed my dad to consider marriage, something he has been adamantly against. Now they’ve separated. And he loves her. However, he has this deep-seated belief that he shouldn’t marry her because he gave that honor to my mother. He’ll never love anyone the way he loved my mother, but that doesn’t mean he can’t love at all. I worry he’s throwing away his happiness because of pure stubborn grief.”

  For a moment I was astounded by Vaughn’s confidence in me. That he would share something so personal with me.

  Yet
as I sat there thinking about what he’d said, some things started to become clear. “You don’t want to get married, either.”

  “What?” He frowned. “No, I’ve said as much.”

  “Well don’t you think that’s a little bit of a coincidence?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you ever thought that your problem is actually your father’s problem?”

  “Bailey, stop talking in circles and just say whatever it is you’re getting at.”

  “Vaughn, you pretty much hero-worship your dad, right? That’s clear. So a lot of your emotions are tied up with him. And you’ve spent the majority of your life watching him pine and grieve for his lost love. He can’t move on from her. No wonder you don’t want to commit to a woman. You’ve seen firsthand what it might do to you if you ever lost her.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked, a fairly good sign that he was pissed.

  I braced myself.

  Vaughn remained quiet for a while.

  Then . . . “Maybe you’re right,” as he got to his feet.

  I stared up at him, chilled by the blankness that had come over his expression.

  “Or maybe you don’t know me well enough to make that analysis.”

  “And whose fault is that?” I shot back.

  With what sounded like a low rumble of frustration, Vaughn abruptly walked away, marching down the beach and out of sight around the bend. Running away. Like a little boy!

  As for me I slumped back on the sand, willing the high-level hum to fade from my body. I was a furnace, and not because of the summer day.

  To my utter horror the combination of Tremaine’s smoldering eyes and confiding in me had turned me on.

  “Holy hell,” I grumbled, slinging an arm across my face so I could hide my mortified annoyance from the world.

  Vaughn

  He couldn’t get away fast enough.

  If he’d stayed, he would have kissed her, touched her, and made her hate him all over again. He’d hate himself if he did that to her.

  So he walked away.

  The nonsense she’d spewed about his father and how he felt about it . . . maybe it wasn’t nonsense, maybe it was, but the fact was he’d seen the hope in her eyes when she drew that conclusion. As though finding the answer to his commitment issues would somehow solve everything.