“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.
This back-and-forth stuff had to stop. He was driving them both insane. But the jealousy, the possessiveness that had roared in his blood when he saw her with that boy controlled him. He wanted to lay a claim to her, and that’s exactly what he’d done in the park.
When he’d seen Bailey go after Rex, he’d found himself following against his will. The relief he felt watching that kid leave was overwhelming.
That need to make sure she was okay, that relief he felt, made him question himself the entire way down the beach. It made him question himself as he sat beside her, their arms brushing. He was aware of every breath she took, every facial expression, every thought that flickered across her beautiful green-gold eyes.
And he knew he had to make a decision.
He loved Bailey Hartwell, and it was time to decide whether he could push past his own fears and take what he wanted, or finally let go.
Sitting with her Vaughn had hoped the answer would come to him, but she’d only confused and stirred him even more.
He needed time.
But he knew whatever he decided, one of them might end up getting hurt.
And that’s why he was taking all the time in the world.
NINETEEN
Bailey
Almost two weeks later I woke up in my bed at the inn. I had kept myself busy at work, staying late every night. Aydan had more time with Angela as I buried myself in the needs of our guests to avoid matters of the heart. Like I had for the past few nights I decided to crash at my room at the inn instead of going home to my house that no longer felt like my home with Vanessa’s crap strewn all over it.
It wasn’t my alarm that woke me, however. It was the crashing sound coming from the front of the building.
Fear flooded me.
Another break-in.
I froze for a moment, remembering the last time. The sound of a louder scuffle had me reaching for my phone and dashing out of bed at the same time.
As soon as I opened the bedroom door I heard my sister’s voice. “Be careful!”
Holy hell.
I relaxed marginally but hurried down the corridor past my office anyway. Standing in the split reception area, my stomach dropped to my feet at the sight of an obnoxiously modern reception counter sitting waiting to replace my beautiful, hand-carved walnut one.
Confronted by glass and black glossy wood I shook my head, struggling to contain my roar of frustration.
“Oh, Bailey, just in time. I ordered this new counter as a starting-off point for redecoration.”
She’d brought up the idea of redecoration a number of times and I’d made my opinion on that clear. It was a big fat no. Apparently nothing I had said to her had penetrated.
“No,” I hissed out. “No!”
Vanessa’s eyes flared. “What do you mean, no? I have men waiting to install it and remove the old ugly one.” She gestured to two beleaguered men who were glaring at her.
“First of all, it is six o’clock in the morning and I have guests who are trying to sleep. Second of all”—I stepped right into her space, getting in her face so she finally understood I meant business—“I said no to the redecoration.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And I didn’t agree with it.”
Then something occurred to me. “Where did you get the money to pay for this?”
God, please say, “My own savings.”
“Your credit card.”
My tether ended with that. In fact my tether was a dot in the very far distance.
I pushed my sleepy face into hers so she had nowhere else to look, and her eyes flared like Bambi’s when the hunter shot his mother. “Return that piece of modern catastrophe, give me back my credit card, and stay the hell out of my business, or I swear to God, V, I will make your life a living goddamn hell.”
“I’m going to tell Mom and Dad,” she snapped.
“Do what you want, just get that ugly counter out of my inn.”
She studied me, trying to measure my resolve. Finally she got it, sniffed in upset, and turned to the delivery guys. “It appears I need to return it.”
“No shit,” one of the guys grunted. “Fucking fruitcakes.”
“Hey.” I shook a finger at him. “I have guests. Watch your language.”
“Move the counter, man,” the other one urged under his breath. “Don’t mess with the crazy lady.”
We stood in frozen silence as the men repackaged the counter and started maneuvering it out of the inn. Once their voices had faded down the garden I turned to my sister. “You haven’t even been here for the last week. You’ve been off gallivanting, without a care in the world, and then you think you can just come back in here, ignore everything I said, and start making changes? What planet do you live on?”
“My personal life is none of your business.” She narrowed her eyes.
“It is when it interferes with my life. Who the hell are you seeing anyway?”