Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

“That’s not funny,” I snapped, concerned for Tom far more than I wanted to be. But as I’d discovered in the past, you couldn’t just switch off caring about someone.

“I didn’t say it was. I’m surprised you care . . . what with all the online dating you’re planning on doing.”

Forcing myself to ignore him, I opened my purse, pulled out some money, and slapped it on the counter.

“What are you doing?” Dahlia said.

“I’m going after him to make sure he’s okay.”

“Sweetie, that’s not your job anymore.” She was clearly unhappy with the idea. “That stopped being your job when he slept with someone else.”

“Dahlia’s right,” Jess added.

“He reeks of alcohol,” I insisted. “That’s not okay. And I’m not the kind of person who’ll just sit here and ignore that.” I swung off my stool and strode through the bar, ignoring Vaughn’s eyes following me, and ignoring my friends calling my name.

Vaughn

Vaughn stared at the door where Bailey had disappeared and cursed himself. Today had just been one bad decision after another. His quarterly stats were in and his hotel in New York was down in profits. Checking an online review site, he found disturbing guest reviews of the hotel. He’d blistered his management via video conferencing for over an hour, ending the meeting with a demand for monthly accounting and improvement upon the problems that were causing the bad reviews. If things didn’t pick up, he’d have to go back to the city for a while to get it back to where it should be and the thought of returning to Manhattan for an extended period made his blood run cold.

And then he’d seen Bailey strolling arm in arm down the boardwalk with Dahlia and he’d surmised they were heading to Cooper’s for drinks. Needing a drink himself he’d decided to follow them, refusing to acknowledge that he wanted to be near Bailey to check on her.

What he’d discovered was that Bailey Hartwell was stronger than he’d ever imagined, and that he’d made a mistake thinking she’d be anything like Camille. It only made him admire her more, and he was already unsettled enough by how much he admired the Princess of Hart’s Boardwalk.

Then he’d gotten pissed overhearing her talk about being ready to date and watching as that stupid kid behind the bar flirted and drooled over her.

When Tom arrived Vaughn was already irritated and trying so very hard not to get off his stool and punch the stupidity out of the moron. Instead he’d pretty much threatened to do it and then he’d had to cover up the reason for it by telling Bailey about the smell of bourbon pouring off him.

And in doing so he’d not only been a bastard but he’d sent her running back to her ex.

Which should have pleased him.

Instead he wanted to kick the shit out of something.

It was aggravating how this woman could reduce him to acting like a hormonal, brooding teenager.

SIX

Bailey

Tom was making slow progress in front of me down the quiet boardwalk, so I caught up with him just as he was passing Vaughn’s hotel.

I’d tried calling out his name but he’d just ignored me, so when I finally caught up to him he pretended like I wasn’t there.

A breeze blew up from the water and the scent of bourbon hit my nostrils.

Damn.

Vaughn hadn’t been lying.

“Tom. Stop.”

“Go home, Bailey. I wasn’t thinking going in there tonight.”

“I’m guessing because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. Do I sound drunk?”

He sounded quite in control, but he smelled like a distillery. It occurred to me he must have been drinking for a while to be in that kind of state.