Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

d. “There’s someone great out there for you, Rex.”

“Someone that’ll take on all my bullshit like you with Vaughn?”

“Not like me and Vaughn. The woman that falls in love with you will actually trust you. Because you’ll love her. You won’t ever think she’s not good enough.”

Hearing the slight crack in my voice, Rex pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight. I felt his sweet kiss on top of my head, and once more cursed my goddamn stupid heart.

“You deserve better, Bailey Hartwell,” he whispered.

“I feel like you’re saying good-bye.” Tears welled in my eyes at the abrupt turn of events.

He let go of me, his expression telling me I wasn’t going to see him anytime soon, and then as quickly as he’d come into my life, Rex McFarlane vanished out of it and into the festival crowd.

Melancholy swelled over me and I turned, despondent, looking for an escape. I moved through the bodies, not hearing or seeing anything as I got free of the masses on the boardwalk and let my feet take me somewhere isolated.

I ended up on the beach, following it around the coast until I came to a tranquil, solitary spot.

Pulling my dress tight under my thighs so I didn’t burn myself on the hot sand, I sat down and stared out at the ocean, at the way the sun glinted off the water. It was a sight that usually filled me with peace.

But today I couldn’t find it.

My life was too chaotic.

A shadow fell over me and I peered up through my sunglasses, my heart slamming against my rib cage at the sight of Vaughn standing over me holding two iced teas. He held one out to me and, dumbfounded, I took it, sipping it as he sat down so close beside me our elbows bumped.

We drank our iced teas in silence, both of us staring out at the water and enjoying the reprieve the sea breeze provided from the heat of the sweltering sun above us.

“Did I scare him away?” Vaughn eventually asked.

He must have followed me from the park, witnessed the scene between Rex and me, and followed me out to the beach. Why? Why would he do that?

God, I didn’t know anymore. “I think I did. Or we did.”

“We did?”

“Apparently we share a vibe, you and I,” I said unhappily.

“Apparently we do,” he replied just as unhappily. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line at the park.”

More silence fell between us, and it reminded me of the night we’d spent on the boardwalk before the epic sex. It was comfortable between us—as comfortable as two people who were sexually aware of each other could be.

I didn’t know when I’d become comfortable with him. How had that happened? Because I didn’t trust him, obviously.

With your heart.

Right. I didn’t trust him with my heart, but . . . he still made me feel safe. And I got a thrill out of verbal sparring with him. He excited me.

How goddamn confusing.

“You were gone for a while,” I said.

“My hotel in New York. The Montgomery. Remember I said there were problems with it? Yeah, well I went up there to check it out. Turned out my manager had a coke addiction.”

Somehow the magnitude of the problem he’d been facing made me feel better about the fact that he’d stayed away so long. “Did you solve the problem?”

“Yes. I have a new manager. I’ve fired the people who were slacking and rehired people he fired who weren’t slacking. The hotel is back on track.”

“And you got to spend time with your dad?”