Vaughn had almost reached the factory door when his cell phone went off in his back pocket. The display showed a number with a Hook area code, so it had to be either River or Duke calling him, both of whom he’d given his number the night before. And damn, the way his blood started pumping told him exactly who he needed it to be. River. No damn contest.
Jesus Christ, he’d been a walking hard-on since last night. Not since those two years of abstaining until River reached womanhood had he been this hot to fuck. River. Always, only River. He’d woken up in agony, jerking his hips up and back against a scratchy motel pillow, like an animal during mating season. His hand hadn’t even been required to relieve the worst of his arousal. Oh no, he’d simply gripped the hollow wooden headboard and accelerated his lewd thrusts, picturing River with her legs spread…and he’d popped right off, shouting down at the mattress. Yeah, considering the state in which he’d left the bed sheets, he probably wouldn’t be making friends with the motel maids any time soon.
He’d spent his drive to the factory reminding himself—around ninety-eight times—that anything physical between him and River would be on her terms. No climbing in through her bedroom window when he needed to feel her beneath him naked, to take her down like a starved predator. No. Remaining focused on his goal was more important now than ever. Helping River. Making up for leaving her a single mother. If she allowed him into her life as a co-parent, it would be more than he deserved.
It took several calming breaths before he trusted himself to answer the phone, but the simple hope she’d be on the other end made him sound like a goddamn sexual deviant. “Riv?”
He heard a slow breath that he swore feathered his ear. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Warm syrup coated his insides, sliding down nice and easy. “Hiya, doll,” he murmured. “Been a while since you called me.”
“Been a while since I had a reason.”
Ouch. Apparently going down on River hadn’t been the remedy to all of their problems. Fair enough. Just meant he needed to work harder, which was what put him at Hook’s main source of employment so early in the morning. Vaughn gave a low whistle. “De Matteo takes one on the chin.”
He thought he heard a muffled laugh on the opposite end of the line, followed by a slow breath. “I’m calling to invite you to dinner tonight.”
Vaughn slapped the phone to his chest and mouthed a hallelujah up toward the gray New Jersey sky. When he finally returned the phone to his mouth, River was issuing a warning about putting too many Cheerios in his mouth at once. “Wha—”
“One at a time, Marcy,” she repeated twice.
“—kay, I am,” said a voice he could only describe as pipsqueak-esqe. And just about everything inside Vaughn seized up, rendering him immobile on the sidewalk outside the factory. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of a spoon hitting a bowl, a giggle following fast on its heels, and River’s warm laugh. The sounds of home. Amazing that he could recognize them at all, considering he’d never had one. Crashing on an uncle’s couch, waiting for his parents to return while knowing full well, even at age ten, they were long gone? Yeah, that wasn’t home. That was hell. Everything now drifting down the line, curling into his ear, was a heaven he’d never had the balls to wish for. Funny how a man’s perspective could change after realizing there were worse places than hell. There was living without River.
On cue, her voice found him. “Vaughn, are you there?”
“I’m here.” He cleared his throat. “What time tonight?”
“Marcy eats early, so around five, five-thirty,” she responded, her voice getting lighter, elusive like smoke.
Vaughn could practically feel River second-guessing herself, so he rushed to end the call before that could happen, even though he could have spent the entire day listening to the nuances in her tone. “I’ll be there,” he said gruffly. “Thanks, Riv.”
“Wait.” Time suspended itself as he waited for River to continue. “Last night…we got carried away. This…if we’re going to do this right, it needs to be about Marcy, okay? Not us.”
“You’re telling me to keep my hands off you.”
A beat passed, giving him hope, despite her answer. “Yes.”
It was no less than he’d expected, but being cast into purgatory smarted nonetheless. But no way would he argue. Not with his family at stake. “See you tonight.”