He snorted out a laugh. No idea how he made it sound attractive, but he did. Then his lips curved into a small droll smile. And that smile? It was lovely.
Wonder how things were going over the fence for Chris & Co.? Not that I cared. A fiery gateway to hell could open up beneath their garden party and I wouldn’t have helped a single one of them. Guess I’d entered the bitter and twisted stage of mourning my relationship. Sure as hell I was done with denial.
“You were going to tell me about your wedding disaster,” Vaughan prompted.
“Right.” I folded my arms over my chest. A purely defensive, batten-down-the-hatches kind of move. All it did, though, was plump up my boobs. Immediately, Vaughan’s gaze was there, making me shift in the chair uncomfortably. “You wouldn’t happen to have a shirt I could borrow, would—”
“No.”
“No?”
He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“You only have one shirt?”
“Yeah, ah … see, the airline lost my luggage.”
“I thought you said you’d been driving all night.”
“Right, right. Flew then drove. Decided to hit the road in Portland, catch all that scenery.”
“At night?”
“Yeah.” He turned away, scratching at the golden-red stubble on his chin. “All the stars and shit. It was real pretty.”
Huh. Okay. Probably no point asking about towels. The only ones I’d seen were now hanging up wet in the bathroom. To steal the sheet off his bed and make a toga out of it might be going too far. No problem, I could brazen it out. Obviously my host had no issues with letting it all hang out physically. Though he’d been hewn from stone, while I was more marshmallow. Chris had liked to call me his “dumpling.” He’d made it sound sweet, but it’d niggled none the less.
How much exactly had I ignored or excused? Good question. I bit at my thumbnail, folding in on myself. No. Enough. I would not allow him and his set to continue undermining my self-confidence. The video had woken me up. No more excuses.
“I believe my fiancé is gay and has been using me as a beard,” I announced, chin held high. “That’s basically the whole story.”
Vaughan’s eyes widened. “Shit.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I was getting ready for the ceremony and someone sent me a video of him getting it on with another guy.”
“That’s why you ran?”
“That’s why I ran.” I slumped back in the seat. “Why? What would you have done?”
“Gotten the hell out of there.”
I gave him a nod, relaxing further. “Good.”
“Dick isn’t my thing. Would have had to have been drunk as fuck to have gotten engaged to a guy in the first place.” From beneath his brows came a sly look. “But yeah, I’d have definitely bolted.”
“Ha-ha.”
The smile came slowly, but again it was definitely there. Strange—he smiled and the weight on my shoulders lightened. All of the dust and darkness in the house faded from view. Maybe it was just me not feeling so alone, I don’t know. But it helped.
“No way I could’ve pulled off the underwear and dress as well as you,” he said contemplatively, thumb rubbing over the rim of his coffee cup.
“No?”
“I lack some of your finer assets.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” I drawled, laughing softly. “I’m sure you look lovely in drag, Vaughan. But I appreciate you saying that.”
“No problem.” He took a sip of coffee, watching me all the while with those intense blue eyes. Not once did they stray down to the assets in question. Probably too busy admiring my fine collection of scratches, bruises, and general hot bridal messiness.
I shifted in my seat, fussed for a minute. Though really, what was the point? I looked like hell. Might as well just roll with it. I huffed out a breath and did my best to let all of the dross go. Everything would be okay. Life would go on. Me and my insane situation had even managed to raise this man’s spirits a little.
Yes, I’d made a mistake. Shit had definitely happened. But things weren’t so bad. Apart from my fine collection of scratches, bruises, and aching muscles, I still had my health.
“You’ve got a killer smile,” he said, still staring.
Heck, he was serious. Probably just being kind. “Thank you.”
A nod.
He rubbed at the stubble on his chin, little lines appearing between his brows. “You weren’t tempted to have a show-him-up, out him in front of all the guests?”
“Honestly?” I took my time and pondered the question, turning it over inside my head. “I wasn’t afraid, exactly, I just … they weren’t my people. All of those guests were business acquaintances, contacts, friends of his family. Most of them I’d never even met. Guess I haven’t been in town long enough to make my own friends. I’ve been either busy working or I’ve been with Chris. My parents couldn’t make it and I’ve pretty much lost touch with the girls I went to school with.
“I don’t really care what those idiots over there think of me. As for what they think of him, he made this mess. He can clean it up himself. I just wanted to remove myself from the entire situation, pronto.” I stared over his shoulder, lost in thought. “I guess I was embarrassed. How could I not be? He played me for a fool.”