I’ve lost her.
A ridiculous goddamn thought, since he’d lost River forty-nine months and four days earlier. Once upon a time, reading River had been simple as breathing. Back when she’d still been in night school and he’d been nothing more than a part-time grease monkey with no high school diploma. When she’d needed reassurance of his feelings, she’d stop talking and clean something, rearranging trinkets on her bedroom shelves until Vaughn got the picture, snatched the broom out of her hand and gave eye contact, lots of it, until she came back down to earth, where he lived for the sole purpose of being her man.
When River had wanted sex—which had been early and often—she would rotate her hips, just a little, no matter where they were. She would push up on her toes and writhe, so subtle that only he noticed. Hell, he’d come to the conclusion that River herself hadn’t been aware of the tempting action. Yeah…that mating dance had gotten her pulled into enclosed spaces all over Hook, although sometimes they didn’t even make it that far. That senior year, when she’d turned eighteen halfway through? He’d fucked her an obscene number of times in the alley behind Hook High right after the dismissal bell rang, her textbooks in a scattered heap on the concrete, her slim fingers clinging to the chain link fence, or those long legs dangling around his hips, shaking with the impact of him.
Just one more way he hadn’t treated her the way she’d deserved.
Vaughn ground his teeth, casting a sidelong glance at River in the passenger seat. Yeah, he might have grown adept at reading and accommodating River’s moods back in the day, but she was sure as shit a mystery now. When he’d pictured River agreeing to his involvement in Marcy’s life, there’d been a sense of completion—or homecoming—far-fetched as it sounded, especially after what he’d done. One thing he hadn’t expected was the breaking apart of their connection with such a profound snap he’d almost seen it playing out in real time. The familiarity between them had floated away like a colorful balloon, leaving them as strangers in that frozen bubble of time.
Pulling up in front of River’s house brought up enough memories to paralyze Vaughn in the driver’s seat a moment, but he propelled himself from the truck to help River down. She was still unsteady on her feet in a way that made Vaughn yearn to carry her up the porch steps, but intuition kept his arm in its safe place around her shoulders.
“I have to pay the babysitter,” she murmured, before one hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God. You can’t…” His eyebrows went up at her word choice. “Okay…I can’t have her thinking I’m bringing home a man.”
Possessiveness blew into his stomach with the power of a hurricane. “You’ve never brought a man home before.” Not a question. “Jesus, Riv. I really don’t fucking mind knowing that.”
“How exciting for you,” she snapped, face turning pink in a way that got his juices flowing like the rapids. “You’ve seen me home. Thank you. Now, please leave. Tomorrow you can show up without any warning and tease me into another argument.”
Vaughn put one hand on the doorjamb and eased closer, tucking stray hair behind her ear, a move natural as inhaling. “Teasing you? Is that what I’ve been doing?” I should back off, but she’s looking right at my mouth. “Teasing implies I didn’t mean to follow through, and…ahhh, Riv, I would’ve sent you back into that factory with bite marks and a smile if you’d let me.”
Her chest lifted and fell on a shudder. “Is that right?”
When had their faces gotten so close? “Don’t ask questions when you already know the answer.”
Damn, he was overstepping. He should’ve let River maintain her good reputation with the babysitter, but something about the strong possibility she’d been without sex since they were together…yeah, she’d basically busted the dam holding back his testosterone, sending it flooding into his bloodstream. Not good. Really not good when River was half in the bag, and she’d just agreed to allow Vaughn into their lives. Any kind of sexual advance could blow his progress to hell, but Christ, when had he ever been logical in anything River-related?
Hell, though. Maybe he still had the ability to read River somewhat, because she was giving those familiar signs of digging in her heels. Her shoulders were bunched up in the vicinity of her ears, the fingers of her right hand curling into a ball. If he didn’t want this time she’d allotted him to be over, he’d better pull back on the instinct to touch and possess…all of her.
Jesus. Pull back, man. Before it’s too late. He should leave. Now. But being with River was like standing in the light after four years in a cave. Retreating to his hole without being forced was impossible. “I’ll meet you inside.”
“What…”