Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

Vaughn gave me a wry smile. “On my mother’s side. We’re not exactly on speaking terms. They weren’t too happy when their darling daughter married a man who’d muscled his way into society.”

“What an outdated attitude.”

“Not then. And lineage is still important to some people. Yeah, if you’ve got enough money and power, you can find your place. But there are still some of the old families who haven’t realized we’ve come a long way since the times of arranged marriages. The Montgomerys are one of them.”

“The Montgomerys. That’s your mother’s family?” Jesus. Vaughn’s dad might not be a blue blood but Vaughn certainly was.

It was hard not to be intimidated by that kind of history. Even I knew who the Montgomerys were. They were giants in the industrial revolution, and now owned a billion-dollar corporation that had its fingers in all sorts of pies—mostly in aeronautics.

“That’s my mother’s family. Or it was until they disowned her for marrying my father.”

The romantic in me swooned. “But she didn’t care, did she?”

Whatever he heard in my voice made his eyes soften again. My belly fluttered in reaction, like a schoolgirl with her first crush. “She loved them. She just loved my father more.”

The air between us felt too thick and I knew I was on the cusp of throwing myself at him. And I wasn’t even drunk. “So, Vaughn Tremaine believes in love,” I teased, trying to ease the tension between us. “Who would have thunk it?”

He gave me that lopsided smirk of his and I swear to God I felt that smirk from my nipples to the heat between my legs.

I hated that I was so attracted to him. Yet I didn’t hate it as much as I hated it yesterday.

In fact, maybe it kind of thrilled me.

“So there was no one back in New York? Or are all the stories of your playboy ways true?”

“Have you been Googling me, Miss Hartwell?”

And we were back to Miss Hartwell. “Emery told me.”

“Has she been Googling me?”

“No, you arrogant ass.” I laughed. “Her grandmother used to read the society pages to her.”

“Ah. How thrilling for her.”

“You didn’t like it? Is that why you came out here?”

“Why all the sudden questions?”

“Well, you see, when you helped me out tonight you made me hate you less.”

He grinned and I triumphed. “Ah. My mistake.”

“Yeah. You should have kept on walking when you saw my doors open.”

Just like that his grin disappeared.

“I’m not the only one who isn’t sure of you,” I said. “If you’re trying to make Hartwell your home, you’re going about it the wrong way.”

“What does that mean?”

I ignored his defensive tone, one that a lesser person might be afraid of. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you’ve figured out that what makes Hartwell Hartwell is the fact that it’s a small town where everyone knows each other and we all play our part. We’re involved in some way. Me, I get involved in events when I can, and I’m always a listening ear when someone wants to talk. Coop, he helps old ladies across the street, pisses off Uly’s Garage by working on people’s cars when they can’t afford a mechanic, and he’s the owner of their favorite watering hole. Jess, she’s new to town, but she’s a doctor. She diagnosed Anita last year and gave her more time with Old Archie. Dahlia helps make the costumes for the winter carnival every year, and is dragged into making costumes for the school plays a lot, too. But then there’s you and Emery. Em is too shy to get involved and so the town doesn’t look at her as one of them. She’s still an outsider. As for you, you don’t get involved, either. You have all that money and your fancy hotel, and you do nothing for the town.”

“Outside of helping the town’s economy thrive by bringing more tourists and business to them.”

I’d annoyed him. That hadn’t been my intention. “I know you do that. They know you do that. But have you ever even been to the music festival or the annual punkin chunkin’ competition or the winter carnival? Have you donated to the causes these events raise money for? Or have you ever considered contacting Kell Summers, our councilman and events guy, and asking him if there’s anything you can do to help with the organization of an event? You have no idea how something that simple will make people look at you differently, and start to see you as one of them.”

“By helping organize an event?” He looked incredulous but I could see he was listening to what I had to say.