Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

“But farther away.”

He grinned at her growing confusion. “This is a nice night for a drive.”

“And a nice car,” she conceded. “A very nice car.”

“Do you want one?”

“What?” Bailey squeaked.

Vaughn swallowed his laughter. “Only joking.” Kind of.

“Don’t do that. You gave me heart failure.” He felt her sudden scrutiny. “You know I’m not after your money, right?”

“Yes. I think it was the constant hostility for three years that gave you away.”

She chuckled. “I like this you.”

Contentment coursed through him. “I’m glad to hear it.”

A half hour later, after discovering they had similar taste in music, they pulled up to the mall outside Johnstown.

“It’s busy tonight.” She unbuckled her seat belt.

“I got you.” He got out of the car and hurried around to her side to open the door. She gave him that huge, beautiful smile as he held out his hand to help her out of the low-sitting supercar. “What?”

“You’re such a gentleman.” She moved into him, drawing circles on his chest with her fingertips and sending blood rushing straight to his dick. “It’s very hot, Mr. Tremaine.”

All in good time, he reminded himself. Vaughn captured her wrists and gave her a tight smile. “Not here.”

Disappointment clouded her expression and he had to remind himself that she wouldn’t be disappointed in ten minutes’ time.

Taking her hand he led her into the mall. There were still a lot of people milling around, especially teenagers, and when they arrived at the movie theater it was no different.

Vaughn searched the movie listing.

“What are we going to see?”

He deduced that Bailey would know more about today’s teens than he did. “What film would you least want to see if you were fifteen?”

She frowned at the question but turned to study the listings anyway. A few seconds later she pronounced, “The French one with subtitles.”

“The French one with subtitles it is then.”

“What?”

They were next in line and Vaughn bought two tickets for the foreign movie.

“Why are we going to see this?” Bailey hissed.

“It sounds interesting,” he lied. He wasn’t a foreign movie kind of guy. In all honesty he wasn’t a movie kind of guy, period. But he wasn’t here for the actual film.

Holding her hand, he led her down the hall past the theaters that were showing movies Bailey might enjoy seeing. “Here we are.”

“So do you like foreign movies then?” she whispered as he pulled open the door to their screening.

“Nope.”

“Then why are we here?”