River woke before Marcy—a first—due to a relentless buzz saw whirring at the back of her skull. She couldn’t quite give a name to what was causing the anxiety, only knew the idea of returning to Hook didn’t bring the sense of comfort it should. Guilt crept in when an image of her father rose like a harbinger. She shouldn’t feel that way about the man who’d raised her. He was a good man who cared for his family. But something was off. Just a quick call to check in…and I’ll feel better.
With Vaughn asleep in the second room, door closed, River unhooked her cell phone from the charger and snuck out into the hallway. Knowing her father would be on the fishing trip, she dialed his mobile, frowning when it went to voicemail. After leaving a quick message to return her call, River resolved to try him again later. Just as she turned to reenter the room, Vaughn appeared in the doorway, barefoot in low-slung jeans. “Hey.” He nodded at the phone, completely unaware he’d spiked her libido like a football. “Who’re you calling?”
Why did she have this sudden sense of being…disloyal? It was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? “My father.” She lowered her voice in deference to their sleeping child. “He’s staying with us a couple of nights while he’s on a fishing trip. I just wanted to let him know we were coming home. In case he’d returned early.”
Vaughn’s expression was carved in stone. “Why didn’t you tell me he was in Hook?”
The buzzing increased, making her skin feel tight. “I don’t know,” she whispered, wondering for the first time if Vaughn could possibly fill in the blanks.
River wanted to ignore the anxiety that formed a barrier around Vaughn as they drove back into Hook an hour later. After the soul-squeezing sex they’d shared last night, and the transition into family life this morning, she’d forgotten to worry, positive she’d imagined the lines around his mouth when they’d returned from the hallway. There was nothing imaginary about the way he continued to rake agitated fingers though his hair now, though, answering her in monosyllables.
This pattern was too familiar, even after so much time having passed. Vaughn clamming up, neglecting to make eye contact. River getting anxious, withdrawing into her head to overanalyze, wondering where they’d taken a wrong turn. In her early twenties, she would have remained in that holding pattern until Vaughn broke her out of it. But she’d grown up, and she could do that for herself now.
When he coasted to a stop at a red light, blocks from her house, River reached over, laying a hand on his knee. “Your meeting at the factory is tomorrow. Do you need help preparing…or anything?”
“It’s under control,” he answered, barely moving his lips. But he seemed to realize with a double take how short he’d been throughout the last few miles. “I’ve, uh… I’ve been contacting men, mostly guys from the area who Duke and I went through basic training with. They haven’t had the easiest time finding employment, and they needed a chance like this.”
River glanced through the windshield with a dazed smile. “Wow. The factory is going to be guarded by ex-military. Can’t say we won’t be safe.”
Instead of laughing, the way she’d hoped, Vaughn’s jaw went tight. “Not like before, right? When you were working in that shit stack during the day and coming home in the pitch black—alone—after serving drinks in the bar. You weren’t safe then, were you, Riv?”
She slowly took her hand back. “Why are you bringing this up now?” Her sternum ached, as if she’d been struck by a fastball, right in the center. “I thought we were moving past this—”
“Sometimes the past doesn’t let you off that easy,” he gritted out. In the backseat, Marcy started crying, and Vaughn’s face paled, his attention flying to the rearview mirror. “I thought she was asleep, I—”
“It’s fine,” River interrupted, her own irritation rising. She took off her seat belt, turning around in the passenger seat on her knees. All was well as soon as she handed Marcy a juice box, but Vaughn? Not so much. His eyes were back on the road, harder to read than before. And it speared her with dread. Had he changed his mind about them getting back together? She didn’t think it possible, not after the bond they’d proven last night was still undeniably intact. But…what if she was wrong?
In that moment of doubt, River learned something about herself. The possibility of Vaughn having second thoughts didn’t make her want to fall down, dissolving into a puddle of tears, like the girl she’d been at twenty-two. No, it made her want to fight. For them? Yes. Just not that second. She was too pissed off at having their trip brought to a crappy end. For having her fear of Vaughn leaving tugged to the surface. And most of all for the reminder how quickly he could still make her insecure with his silence.
As soon as Vaughn pulled the Pontiac to a stop, River pushed open her door, slammed it, and hit the sidewalk, taking Marcy out of her car seat with a smile she hoped was patient and unfazed. Yeah, right.
“Hey,” Vaughn said from behind her, having the absolute nerve to sound baffled. “What are you stomping around about?”
She took a deep breath and faced Vaughn, forcing herself to keep her voice down. “I want you to leave. Now, please.”