“Hey.” God, Jasmine looked so happy and content, a rosy glow and tangled hair making it obvious how she’d spent the prior evening. Not that River wanted the details about her brother and best friend’s sex life. Although, if the songs they’d been writing together were any indication, things were…pretty darn super in that department. “Sorry for the early call.”
“Stop. You apologize every week.” Jasmine set down her coffee mug with a click. “How’s the kiddo? You haven’t texted me a picture in days. Me and Sarge are going through withdrawals.”
“Sorry.” River fumbled for her cell phone. “I have one with a bowl on her head…milk still inside. I can send—”
“What’s wrong?”
River looked up to see Jasmine scrutinizing her from three thousand miles away. This. This was what she missed. Without River having to explain, Jasmine knew something was up right away. She sighed. “Vaughn is back. I saw him last night.”
“Shit.” Jasmine scooped her dark hair back over her shoulder. “Took him long enough. Sarge sent the letter months ago.”
“Yeah, still not over that,” River responded drily. “Something about a PO box. Guess that’s why no one could find him.” A jab of pain landed in the center of River’s chest, renewing her determination to do what was best. “He really didn’t want to be found.”
Jasmine was silent for a beat, as if deciding where to start. “What did he say about Marcy?”
The picture on the screen froze, before resuming animation. “I-I think he’s still in shock. We didn’t get very far before I tried to beat him up in the Kicked Bucket parking lot.”
“Oh, Riv.” One side of her best friend’s mouth lifted. “How’d that feel?”
“Pretty great.”
Jasmine sat back in her chair, drinking coffee and waiting. It was her way—not to push, but to let River speak in her own time. Lord, she appreciated that. They were coming to the reason she had Skyped this morning, for more than their usual social call. There was something she hadn’t even told her best friend. Something about the night Vaughn left. And now that the reckoning was coming, she needed someone to remind her she wasn’t an awful person. “Jas—”
Sarge walked into the frame…in nothing but a pair of red briefs. River held up both hands to ward off the image, slamming her eyes shut. “No. No, I didn’t sign up for this.”
“What?” said her brother’s sleepy voice. “Oh, hey, Riv.” When she looked back at the screen, her rock star brother had made no attempt to cover himself, totally unashamed of his lack of clothing in front of his sister. “I’m still getting used to seeing you blonde again,” he said.
“Yeah.” She sighed, patting the top of her head, self-consciousness replacing her outrage. She still felt silly for impulse-buying the drug store dye months back, but acknowledging the reason she’d made an effort with her appearance definitely wouldn’t help brighten her morning. “Only forty-five minutes and I was right back to my old self.”
Ugh. Pity party, table for one. Why was she subjecting Sarge and Jasmine to her melancholy attitude? Having Vaughn back in town was no doubt the catalyst for her doom and gloom this morning—not to mention her nerves—but there was no sense involving her loved ones in problems they could do nothing about. No. She needed to get to work, make money to care for Marcy and add to the college fund that grew a little more every week, and handle Vaughn on her own.
“Sorry to cut this short, but I’m going to be late—”
“River?”
She stood up and whirled around so fast, she upended the plastic stool on which she’d been sitting. Just inside Adeline’s small office, filling the doorframe, stood Vaughn, looking freshly showered and…screw it. He was thick and sturdy and sexual. Always had been. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve got a better question.” He sauntered into the room, muscles flexing with displeasure. “Why are you talking to some dude in his underwear?”
…
Vaughn’s jealousy slipped over him like a silk net. So familiar and yet he hadn’t experienced it in so goddamn long. The emotion had only ever been associated with River, and it appeared that wouldn’t change any time soon. If he’d known she would be in the church office, maybe he could have prepared himself to act like a rational human being, but Adeline had directed him to the back—with what he now recalled to be a sly wink—and bam, double whammy. River plus River talking to another man went down his gullet like a handful of spikes.
Her body blocked the computer, so he sidestepped to get a better look, jabbing a finger at the screen. “Who’s that?”
“I’m her brother, shit stick.” Sarge’s voice crackled over the bad connection. “Nice of you to show up.”