Every Little Thing

by Samantha Young

  He shot me that wicked grin. “I’m just telling you what these women thought.”

  “Oh, I believe you. You’re a beautiful man.” I shrugged. “I’ve never denied that. Okay. I’ve maybe denied that.”

  “You’ve definitely denied that.”

  “Wasn’t it awful being wanted just for your looks?”

  “Not just for my looks. My wealth, too. And was it any fairer than me wanting Camille because of her position in society and her old-fashioned view of marriage?”

  “I guess not.”

  “We were a year into our engagement, the wedding was around the corner, and I was starting to have major doubts. Her composure in all things was starting to irritate me. She never got annoyed with me, even when she had a right; she never demanded more time of me, and I was starting to think if she cared, then she should. There was no passion between us, no fire, and it troubled me. I started to understand the moniker society had given her. Yet I continued to convince myself that the distance between us was a good thing; that no matter what, I got what I wanted out of it without getting hurt. Without either of us getting hurt.

  “A month before the wedding Camille’s younger sister Caroline came home from a year in Europe. We’d met briefly before she’d left, and we’d seen each other again at Christmas. But I knew nothing of her, and I had no interest in her. However, she started to show an interest in me.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “Yes. As soon as Camille’s back was turned Caroline would flirt with me, and aggressively. One time she cornered me at a party and tried to stick her hand down my pants.”

  “What?” I was outraged on Camille’s behalf. “What kind of sister is that?”

  “You know all about crazy sisters, princess.”

  “True,” I agreed, “but I’d hope even Vanessa wouldn’t cross the line by feeling up my fiancé.”

  “Caroline did cross the line.” Vaughn turned grim. “She turned up at our apartment one night when Camille was at a meeting for some charity board she was on. She was naked before I even blinked and acting like a lunatic trying to get me to sleep with her.

  “I had to physically manhandle her out of our apartment. It was a fucking awful scene. She cursed and railed out in the hallway until one of the neighbors called for security. And of course it got back to Camille, and Caroline told her that we’d slept together and afterward I’d behaved like a bastard, throwing her naked out of the apartment.”

  “She did not.”

  “She did. And Camille believed her.”

  “Oh, my God,” I breathed. “That’s horrible. What a conniving bitch.”

  “You haven’t heard the worst part.” His smile was sad. “Camille said she forgave me, that she still wanted to marry me.”

  “What?” I couldn’t imagine having taken Tom back after he cheated on me. “Why? If she believed you cheated?”

  “Exactly what I said to her when I called off our engagement two weeks before the wedding. I told her I couldn’t marry someone who didn’t trust me. And I couldn’t. I might not have been looking for the traditional things in a marriage but I at least expected trust and respect from my wife.”

  “Of course.”

  “To make matters worse, Caroline came to me and apologized, but told me she’d done me a favor and that I was marrying the wrong sister anyway. She said Camille was cold, and she was the opposite. She was also desperate. Both Camille and Caroline had been given a substantial trust fund on their twenty-first birthday. While Camille made smart investments and didn’t spend too lavishly, Caroline blew it all in five years.”

  “She wanted to marry into money to keep up her lifestyle,” I concluded.

  “Exactly.” Vaughn stopped. He stared out at the water and my heart started to beat a little faster at how gloomy he’d grown. “The night before the wedding was supposed to have taken place Camille called me. She begged me to change my mind about not marrying her. I’d never heard her like that. She was crying hysterically, telling me that she was humiliated, that she’d never be able to show her face again. She said if we didn’t marry, her life would be ruined. All of her friends had stopped talking to her, her mother’s friends had suggested she take some time off from her charity work, but it wasn’t out of kindness. These women, all of them, assumed she was somehow defective because she hadn’t been able to keep me. She said she couldn’t stand their pity. And then she kept telling me she loved me over and over.

  “Not once did I ever get that from her . . .” He turned, his eyes hollow with pain. “She told me she loved me when we were together but I never really believed it. I still don’t know if she did or if she just loved our life together. So I let her rail at me. At first she begged, and then she yelled, and then she screamed, and then she cried.

  “And then she hung up . . . and this awful feeling came over me.” He looked deep into my eyes. “I have good intuition, always have, it’s how I’ve become successful, and it’s how I knew that I needed to check on her. I still had my key to our apartment.

  “God, Bailey,” he whispered, “I’ll never get the image of her out of my head.”

  “Vaughn.” I grabbed onto his arms, fearing the worst.

  He shook his head. “She was in the bathtub. Drowned. I got her out. I did CPR, got the water out of her lungs, got her breathing again, and I called nine one one. She recovered. At least physically. But it took her a long time to get over me. She’s engaged now to a neurosurgeon.”

  “Thank God,” I breathed. “You should really have led with that.”

  Vaughn gave me a dry, humorless smile. “What happened to her fucked with my head a little.”

  “Of course it did.”

  “I happily went back to never wanting to be in a relationship again. Not just because of how my defection caused a woman to try to commit suicide, but because I was happier before Camille. I was more comfortable in my own skin without her.”

  That more than anything made me uneasy. What did that mean? And why were we having this conversation if that was true? “Vaughn, her reaction wasn’t a normal reaction. You get that, right? I imagine there have been other hearts broken by you and they didn’t react that way.”

  “I get that. I do. But it still wasn’t easy to know that people, that we, were capable of hurting each other that much, because it was part revenge; she did that to hurt me as much as she did it to escape. And it was an escape, and that’s why Manhattan and I . . . we were over. If living that life, if needing the approval of those around her so badly caused a woman to try to take her own life, then I wanted no part in it. I wanted to run from it for as long as I could. That’s when Oliver told me about the old Hart’s Boardwalk Hotel.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes. So I came here. I grew to like the quiet.” He faced me. “And I met you.”

  “You hated me.”

  “No, you hated me.” He reached out and curled my hair behind my ear and I felt that simple touch all over my body. “But you wanted me.”

  My lips parted in consternation. “And how do you know that?”

  “I told you. I have great intuition.”

  “I didn’t want to want you.”

  “I didn’t want to want you, either, but I did.” Vaughn stepped closer to me. “You are everything I’ve never known. I fell in love with you a long time ago, princess. I’ve tried to fight it, but I can’t, and I don’t want to anymore.”

  His words thrilled me, they did, but they also scared the shit out of me.

  Vaughn thought Camille was only worried about her reputation when he left her, about her status, but as cold as she may have been, I knew . . . I knew she’d loved him. It would be impossible to spend a year in his arms and not fall in love with him. Even with his guard up. Vaughn was capable, successful, hardworking, protective, and gorgeous. There was a whole lot there to like.

  A
nd that was what I was so afraid of.

  “I want those things you said you don’t want anymore. I want marriage. I want kids.”

  Taking my hands in his, Vaughn leaned down to whisper across my lips. “I’ll give you anything, Bailey Hartwell, anything you want.”

  The sincerity in his eyes caused tears to well in mine. “You need to want those things for you, too.”

  His expression turned thoughtful. “I used to want them. I told you that. I just . . . let myself let go of the fantasy of it. With you . . . God, Bailey, you’ve got me wanting things I gave up on believing I’d ever have.”

  There was a part of me, that bright, young, nineteen-year-old girl still inside of me, that wanted to throw my arms around this gorgeous, complicated, stubborn man and say, To hell with it, let’s give this a go. But the cautious thirty-four-year-old who’d wasted too many years already on the wrong man was still taking the wheel on this one.

  I thought of that moment months ago, a moment that felt years ago instead, when Tom had begged me to consider taking him back. I’d asked why he wanted me to. I’d asked him why he loved me.

  He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t answer because we were stuck in limbo “loving” each other because it felt comfortable and safe. We were a part of something that people expected. And there was comfort in that.

  But it wasn’t real love.

  Now I feared that Vaughn was confusing our sexual chemistry for something more than it was.

  “Why?” I found myself stepping back from Vaughn’s intoxicating proximity. “Why do you love me?”

  For a moment, as he stared at me in mild exasperation, I felt my stomach drop as I foresaw a replay of that moment with Tom.

  “Why do I love you?” he repeated.

  “Yes, why?”

  “You know this sharing thing isn’t easy for me,” he grumbled. “I’m not exactly used to all this declaration stuff and I’ve been doing a lot of it lately.”

  I tensed, ready to flee.

  Vaughn sensed it and held up his hands. “Fine.” He was completely exasperated now. “I can’t believe you need to hear this. It should be obvious to you and to anyone why I’m so fucking in love with you I’m turning into a possessive Neanderthal who is going to ruin his reputation punching assholes in the face and trying to get into your pants in my hotel lobby.

  “I love you, Bailey Hartwell, because you frustrate me, you annoy me, you bother me, you bewilder me, you make me laugh, you get under my skin, you take my breath away. I love you because I admire your strength, I admire how hard you work, how much you love the inn, this town, the people in it. I love how you care so much, too much, so much that it scares me because I worry someone will take advantage and you’ll get hurt. I love your fire. I love that you stand up to me. I love how you force me to remove the stick up my ass.

  “Mostly I love you because you make me want to live a better life as a better man.”

  And on that final, beautiful note, I gasped. An actual gasp. The breath escaped out of me because his words hurt. They caused a physical ache.

  But in the most stunning way imaginable.

  Slowly, I stepped into him and slid my hands up his chest and around his neck. His jacket fell off my shoulders with the movement and Vaughn’s arms encircled my waist. His strong hands flattened against my bare back and I felt the pressure of his fingertips as he held me close, as close as he could get me.

  We stared into each other’s eyes, searching, enjoying the fact that we had the time to do that, that neither one of us was fighting this. We could look as long and as hard at each other as we wanted because our defenses were lowered.

  Finally.

  “Okay,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let’s give this a try.”

  His answer was the happiest, sexiest grin I’d ever seen.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Bailey

  “I can’t believe I let you drag me here.” Vaughn stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking less than impressed by his surroundings. “And no one told me I had to wear someone else’s shoes.”

  I struggled to keep a straight face. “I thought you’d know that part. Everyone knows that part.”

  “And I told you I’ve never done this before.”

  “Which is why I ‘dragged’ you here.”

  “So everything I say I haven’t done, you’re going to make me do?”

  Grinning, I sidled up to him with a hopefully mischievous and seductive smile. His eyes lowered to half-mast, shooting that seductiveness right back at me. I was halted when my chest pressed against his. “Am I planning to make sure that you experience all the things you missed out on because you were too busy working your ass off to get to the top? Yes. I am.”

  Vaughn’s sexy look turned tender and amused. “And that includes bowling.”

  “And that includes bowling.” I leaned past him, picked up a bowling ball, and shoved it at him. “Now have at it, mister.”

  He took it tentatively, like it was something heinous. “You want me to put my fingers in holes that a million other fingers have been in?” He sighed as I struggled and failed not to burst into laughter. “You’re filthy.”

  “I’m not the one that just said . . . well . . . that.” I laughed. “Oh, my God. Why am I the only one here when you said that?”

  “Dirty girl,” he said fondly.

  “I could have responded with something smart-mouthed about you and prostitutes but I didn’t. That’s progress.”

  “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve never been with a prostitute.”

  “With that face”—I brushed my fingertips over his cheek—“you’d never need to.”

  “Are we really having this conversation?”

  “Nope.” I stepped out of his way and gestured to our lane. “Now have at it.” When he didn’t step up to take a shot I sighed. “Come on, a little bacteria never hurt anyone.”

  “Lovely, thank you.” He grimaced. “But I was considering the fact that I’ve never done this and I don’t like to fail at things.”

  “You’re worried you’ll miss?” I grinned. “Baby, I know it’s hard for you to process the idea of losing, so don’t look at it like you have to win immediately. Look at it in the long term. The more you practice, the more chance you have of winning in the future. Kind of like how you got me into your bed permanently.”

  Vaughn flashed me a wolfish grin. “I only heard ‘baby’ and ‘got me into your bed permanently.’”

  “I bet you did.”

  Since agreeing to see where this thing between us might lead two weeks ago at Jess and Coop’s wedding I owed Aydan. A lot. Why? Because I’d been in Vaughn’s bed every night since and he had succeeded in making me late to work every morning.

  We’d had so much sex I could have sworn my abs and legs had toned up.

  “Okay.” He stretched his neck from side to side and then shrugged back his shoulders. “I once walked in on my father while he was . . . well, during fellatio with my friend’s mother. If I can recover from that, I can do anything.”

  Giggling, I stood back and watched him as he strode toward the lane with purpose. There were no words for how much pleasure I found watching Vaughn Tremaine do anything. I’d never met a man so masculine yet so graceful and strong. I’d also discovered that he kept his body as beautiful as his face through hard work. A lot of hard work. He woke up at five a.m. every morning and disappeared to the hotel gym. When he got back to the room he’d take a shower and then come wake me up to do a sexy workout with me. I didn’t know where the man got his energy.

  Vaughn studied the ten pins at the end of the lane and slowly slid his hands into the bowling ball with not even a hint of a grimace. Once he set his mind to something . . .

  I felt a little drool at the corner of my mouth watching his tight ass in his black jeans as he bent to throw the
ball. His form wasn’t too bad actually, having a natural understanding of how to move it to get the best results.

  I was not surprised when he knocked down eight of the ten pins.

  He turned to me, expression serious. “I can do better.”

  “You knocked down eight,” I disagreed. “That’s awesome.”

  “I can do better.”

  I’d never met a man who was so competitive with himself. He had to do his best in everything. It was exhausting. “Your need to be the best at everything is exhausting.”

  Vaughn didn’t even flinch at my honesty. Instead he walked up to me, wrapped an arm around my waist, and drew me in for a quick, sweet kiss. When he pulled back he murmured, “If I didn’t need to be the best at everything, princess, you would have had a lot less orgasms this week.”

  My belly fluttered and I felt an answering tingle between my legs. I swear to God, this man now had more control over my body than I did. “Right. Well. I wouldn’t want you to stop being who you are.”

  He grinned, smug. “That’s what I thought.”

  “You’re lucky I find you funny, Tremaine,” I warned him. “Arrogance is usually off-putting.”

  “Then you’re lucky I find arrogance attractive, too.”

  “Uh!” I pushed him away. “I am not arrogant.”

  He laughed. “You are so arrogant.”

  “I am not!”

  “You think you’re one of the best attractions around here, princess.” He snatched me back toward him. “And you would be right. So never change.”

  I melted into him. “Do I really come off arrogant?”

  “Only with me, but if you haven’t noticed, it gets me hot.”

  We did this thing we’d been doing a lot this past week: falling into each other’s eyes. That almost always led to sex. “We’re supposed to be bowling,” I whispered.

  “Fine. First we bowl, then we fuck.”

  I smacked his arm. “We are in public.”

  Chuckling, he pulled reluctantly away from me and gestured to the bowling balls. “Your turn.”

  As I was setting myself up to bowl, I glanced over my shoulder at Vaughn and found him staring at my ass. I grinned, loving how sexy he made me feel. “Oy, Tremaine.”