His hands went to his hips, dark eyebrows drawing together. “Why is that?”
“Because you’re being a jerk,” she responded succinctly. “And you’re not going to talk about why. You’re just going to stew. Or be cryptic and says things like, ‘sometimes the past doesn’t let you off that easy, little lady.’” He narrowed his eyes at the way River mimicked his deep voice, but she didn’t give him time to respond. “Well, no kidding. No kidding. Don’t talk to me like I haven’t figured that out.”
He took a step closer. “Doll—”
“Oh no. Don’t doll me.” She put up a hand, halting his progress in her direction. “You want to be a part of us? Stop being such a mystery. There’s no room for that here. We need to be on the same page to be a team, like we spoke about. So until you get there? Please. Leave.”
“Not leaving when you’re this mad.” He scratched the side of his stubbled jaw, running his gaze up and down her body. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this mad.”
“If you tell me it’s turning you on, I’m going to slug you right in the stomach.”
“All right,” he said, voice getting harder. “I won’t tell you. But you should know I’m thinking it.”
River’s foot ached with the need to stomp. She and Vaughn were squared off, having moved closer when she obviously hadn’t been paying attention. Dammit, she hated that the argument was only half the reason her blood grew hot, her skin turning sensitive beneath the dress she wore. Beneath his white shirt, she could make out the outline of the unrefined tattoo forming her name and longed to trace it with her fingertips, kiss each letter. God. How could she want to scratch his eyes out and jump him at the same time?
“They’re back!”
The familiar voice caught River and Vaughn off guard, both of them twisting in the newcomer’s direction. Half a block down, Duke’s four sisters were headed in their direction, waving with their free hands, the other hands holding bags from the local toy store.
“What is happening here?” Vaughn muttered the question on River’s mind, just as Marcy started to kick up a fuss for being left in her car seat too long. Automatically, River went to work, freeing the three-year-old and setting her on the sidewalk, which set off a fit of squealing from the sister posse now even with River’s front yard.
“Duke said you ought to be home about now.”
“Just stopping by with a few things for the little one.”
“Lisa cuts hair. Does the kid need a haircut? She brought her scissors. Good ones. You can’t get them just anywhere.”
“How was traffic?”
No one waited for an answer to that last question, all four sisters hustling a dazzled—and somewhat dazed—Marcy inside, somehow knowing exactly where River hid the spare key inside the decorative lantern arrangement.
After a moment River looked at Vaughn. “What just happened?”
A corner of his mouth edged up. “I think Duke needed to watch SportsCenter.”
“I’m never getting rid of them now, am I?”
“We.” He was back to sounding irritable. “We’re never getting rid of them.”
His unwise tone of voice snapped River’s spine straight. “I meant what I said, Vaughn,” she said. “I can’t do this—us—if you’re going to leave me wondering what’s coming. I need to know what’s coming.” Way to be clear, River. “I need to not be worried I’m losing you again. And damn you for making me feel that way.”
Vaughn plowed forward, pinning River to the car, his hands tunneling through her hair, his body hard, so hard, against her own. “Losing me? God, what made you think that? What did I do to make you think you could”—his touch dropped away like his muscles had given out—“lose me.”
She watched the irony of that question register in Vaughn’s eyes, but didn’t feel any victory in it. Only relief at having gotten through, of not being alone in the shell of her constant worry. “We can’t get by on just sex anymore.” Even as she spoke the sentiment, even fully meaning it, her tummy flipped at saying the word “sex” when Vaughn’s mouth was only a breath away. He liked hearing River say it, too. She knew by the tick-tick-tick in his cheek. “I like that we communicate that way, but we need words, too. I need words and honesty. All the time. You can’t disappear into yourself on me. I get scared, and I’ve gotten too strong to feel that way.”
Head dipped forward, Vaughn settled a hand at her waist. “I scare you, Riv?” He started to talk, stopped, started again. “Jesus, doll. You know I’d rather die than make you scared, don’t you?”