Every Little Thing - Page 38/107

Realizing she’d taken his words the wrong way, Vaughn opened his mouth to explain and then stopped.

Maybe it was better to let her think he thought she wasn’t good enough.

“I’m not my parents,” he said. “I understand where my grandparents were coming from.”

Her reaction was unexpected.

Maybe he’d thought she’d fight a little harder considering this was Bailey and she tried to save fucking everyone from themselves.

Maybe he’d thought she’d decide he was right and just let him leave.

Maybe she’d yell at him.

What he hadn’t expected was the pain that flashed across her face like he’d physically punched her.

And then she just closed down.

He witnessed it.

Bailey Hartwell, the most passionate woman he’d ever met, just went blank.

Cold.

Her eyes turned flat.

And it scared him.

“You can see yourself out.” Her words were toneless, her face expressionless as she shimmied off the bed. “I’m going to shower you off of me.”

Vaughn stood frozen as she passed him, Bailey but not Bailey, and disappeared inside the bathroom with the soft click of the door.

As he reached for his sweater and jacket he noticed his hands were trembling. He curled them into fists to make it stop. But as he left the inn in the wee hours of the morning, he walked on legs that felt shaky, unsure.

Staring up at the inn, Vaughn knew with nauseating realization why he was so off balance:

He’d thought walking away from Bailey would mean they’d return to their usual antagonistic banter, and he could live with that. He’d look forward to it, because it meant, selfishly, he’d always have that from her. She’d always be a part of his life.

But apparently alluding to the idea she wasn’t good enough for him had possibly severed their tie for good.

And to his frustration, confusion, and horror, Vaughn realized that the thought of losing even that small piece of Bailey Hartwell scared the absolute shit out of him.

Bailey

I scrubbed at my body, not wanting to smell or feel any traces of Vaughn Tremaine on my skin.

The sheets on the bed would have to be washed, too.

So much for wanting to smell his expensive cologne on them.

I didn’t want the reminder. The flashes of memory from last night were bad enough. I could still hear his voice in my head, his groans in my ear, the thrust of his hips against mine.

“We’re just from different worlds. We don’t fit.”

“I’m not my parents. I understand where my grandparents were coming from.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against his voice and scrubbed harder. It was just like last time all over again, not good enough for him, never good enough!

And just like last time I’d convinced myself that Vaughn actually cared about me. What an idiot. I hadn’t seen tenderness in his eyes as he moved in me. I’d seen smug satisfaction. He’d finally gotten one over on me. Bailey Hartwell was good enough for sex but not good enough for a relationship.

I wasn’t his kind of people. He was a total asshole commitment-phobe.

And I’d just gotten rid of one of those.

So I wasn’t going to fight Vaughn on this one; I wasn’t going to wear him down and make him see that there could be something special between us. Vaughn made me feel bad about myself and I hated him for it.

Finally I was ready to do better by myself again. Being burned in the same way twice made me a fool. But I wouldn’t be a fool again.

I had to say it and maybe if I said it, I would start to believe it.

“You deserve better than Vaughn Tremaine,” I said aloud as I stared into the mirror.

The door to the inn blew open during breakfast and like a gust of gale-force wind, Jessica and Cooper stormed inside. I strode out of the dining room and into the reception area. Jessica threw her arms around me and hugged me tight.

“Vaughn called. He told us what happened!”

“He what?” I squeaked.

“I’m going to kill the fucker,” Cooper snarled.

Oh, crap. Did Vaughn have a death wish? What was he thinking? “Look, it was nothing—”

“Stu Devlin breaking into your inn and attacking you is not nothing,” Jessica snapped as she pulled out of my hold. “Don’t pretend to be cool about this, Bailey. This was crossing the line. Again!”

Oh. Right. The break-in.

Vaughn had called Jessica and Cooper to inform them about the break-in.

I was unappreciative of the kind gesture. I didn’t need any kind gestures from him.

“You’re right,” I agreed. “It was crossing the line. I didn’t expect the asshole to attack me.”

Cooper’s face darkened.

“Calm down, Coop. Sheriff King is dealing with . . .” My voice trailed off as a deputy from the sheriff’s department walked into the inn right at that very moment.

And not just any deputy.

Deputy Freddie Jackson.

My least favorite deputy. Deputy Jackass, as I called him. Not just because he was a sneering, superior little shit, but because he happened to have grown up best buds with Kerr, the youngest Devlin son. The two of them thought they were owed respect from the moment they were born, and they’d acted like assholes from that moment, too.

Great.

“Miss Hartwell.” He bypassed Cooper and Jessica, ignoring them. “The sheriff has sent me along to take witness statements from your guests about the alleged incident last night.”