Every Little Thing Page 59

“That Vaughn guy. Ugh! We’re barely introduced and he jumps down my throat, warning me not to cause you any trouble. No man acts that territorial and exhausting about a woman unless he’s screwed her nine ways ’til Sunday. Which brings me to . . . what happened to Ted?”

Too many emotions rose up in me. I was discombobulated. It took me a minute to figure out what the hell she was saying. “Ted?”

“Your boyfriend. Duh?”

“Does she mean Tom?” Rex queried.

“Tom!” Vanessa clicked her fingers. “Right. Yeah, what happened to Tom?”

“She caught him fucking my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend now,” Rex answered.

“Wow.” Vanessa looked surprised. “I didn’t know old Ted had it in him. Here I thought he was as boring as you, Bails.”

I ignored that. “Go back to Vaughn. What did you say to him?”

“Nothing. Just a comment about the inn needing my magic touch.”

Oh yeah, I was so sure. “Right.”

“God, that guy is uptight. But hot. I’m right, aren’t I? You slept with him.” She wandered over to the table and reached for a taco.

I could do nothing as she scooped some of my stir-fry into one and started to eat it. Honestly, in the mess of confusion she’d just caused, I was glad she was eating something with actual calories in it.

Plus, staring at her eating my dinner was easier than acknowledging Rex and his burning gaze. It didn’t take a genius to know that he wanted the answer to her question.

My anger over my sister’s sudden arrival in my life returned with a vengeance. “Stop talking.”

She huffed. “No bed. Now no talking. Fine. I’m hitting the hay anyway. You might want to leave, unless you want your boy here to get a look at my good stuff.”

“We’re eating dinner.”

“And you’re in my bedroom.”

I looked to Rex, exasperated.

“We can pack it up,” he offered. “Eat it at the inn?”

“My office.” I nodded, sighing. “I’ll get some Tupperware.”

As I passed my sister I shot her a filthy look.

She smirked. “I want you to wake me tomorrow morning so I can go to the inn with you.”

“Great.”

Vanessa bristled at my tone. “You are so lucky I met a hot guy tonight and I’m in a good mood.”

I stiffened. She better not be talking about Vaughn. “Hot guy?”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. Not your hot guy. Mine is more of the suited-up earthy type. Money and class, but he knows how to work with his hands, if you know what I mean. I met him in Germaine’s.”

Poor guy. He had no idea what he was in for. “Good for you.”

“Ugh. Whatever.”

Once we had the food packed up I ushered Rex out of the house just as Vanessa started shimmying out of her dress.

We were quiet as we got in my car.

And then . . .

“So. Vaughn, huh?”

Maybe I’d switch out Vanessa’s shampoo for hair-removal cream. I couldn’t believe she’d put me in this position. Even though Rex and I weren’t dating, I knew what he wanted, and it would be unfair of me not to explain. “He owns Paradise Sands Hotel.”

“The hotelier from New York?” He sounded stunned. He looked crestfallen. “Wow. Hard to compete with that.”

“It’s not . . . Look, he was there for me during that whole Stu Devlin thing.” I’d already explained about Devlin breaking into the inn.

“He was the ‘friend’ that helped you out that night.”

“Yes. And well, emotions were high and all that and one thing led to another . . .”

“Yeah, you don’t need to go into detail.”

“But nothing is going to happen with Vaughn. I told you that. He doesn’t want a relationship with anyone.”

“But you want him.”

I couldn’t lie to Rex. “I wish I didn’t. And believe me, I’m working on getting over that idiocy.”

Hearing the sincerity in my voice, Rex nodded. “Okay.”

It occurred to me as we set up my office as a private dining room and Rex peppered me with questions about growing up with Vanessa, that by giving him an explanation I was considering him as boyfriend material.

As I stared into his warm dark eyes, I let myself imagine the possibilities with Rex. No, he didn’t fire up my blood like Vaughn. I felt toward him like I used to feel about Tom. But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing after all.

Shit.

Wasn’t life supposed to get less confusing in your thirties?

EIGHTEEN

Bailey

It was that time of year again. Music festival time. One of the things I loved so much about Hartwell was our town events. We had the music festival during the summer while all the tourists were around, a gay pride parade at the end of the summer, the chicken festival at the beginning of October to celebrate our state bird, the proud blue hen. Then there was the pumpkin festival at Thanksgiving, where we had our punkin chunkin’ competition, and the winter carnival in mid-February with a royal court and parade floats.

The music festival was great because it was more laid-back than our other events. People from neighboring towns and cities got permits to set up stalls selling all kinds of music memorabilia and craft goods. Dahlia always had a stall.

Bands from all over the country played one after the other in the bandstand on Main Street. It was just a good vibe. A crush of people strolling lazily around, enjoying good music and good times. And we raised money for a state charity that used music to transform the lives of disadvantaged children.

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