Good Girl (Love Unexpectedly 2)
Page 76
Vaughn gives a nod in agreement. “Basically, yeah.”
“I’m the one that proposed, though,” I say quietly.
“Well, in your defense—”
“No,” I interrupt Vaughn. “There’s no excuse. For years I pretended to be someone I wasn’t. Pretended that a life with someone like her was what I wanted. That’s on me, not Yvonne.”
“What is it you do want?” Finn asks in a rare moment of seriousness.
I stare straight ahead, trying not to think of a sexy blonde who’s too young for me and also too famous for me….
“I want a simple life.”
I wince as soon as the words are out of my mouth, feeling slightly douchebag-ish.
“Explain,” Vaughn says, taking a sip of his beer.
Finn opens his mouth, and I know he’s got a comeback at the ready that’s eating him alive, but he holds it back and stays silent. I’m impressed.
“No thanks,” I mutter.
“No, seriously,” Vaughn says. “I know what I want. Finn knows what he wants—”
“Double D’s and Daisy Dukes,” Finn says unabashedly.
“What do you want?” I ask Vaughn, a little surprised by the sureness in his voice, realizing that I haven’t really talked to the guys about serious shit like this in too long, and anytime we have gone there, it’s been after too much whisky, so most of it has been forgotten (or pretended to be forgotten) by the next morning.
“I want to take over my family’s company. I want to be CEO, but not just in title, I want to fucking own it. Be the best damned CEO they’ve had, the one that takes the business to the next level. I want to get married. Someone whip-smart and low-maintenance.”
“Might I suggest a Labradoodle?” Finn says. “I hear they don’t shed.”
Vaughn ignores him. “I want two kids. Last-minute weekends in New Orleans and planned trips to Europe.”
Finn makes a dramatic snoring noise, and Vaughn finally breaks off, seeming a little embarrassed by his oversharing.
Feeling his pain, I shift my focus to Finn. “How the hell do you know what a Labradoodle is? Or Brooks Brothers, for that matter?”
He opens his mouth, then shuts it.
“Like I thought. Not half as much of a hick as you’d like us to think,” I say. Turning back to Vaughn, I tell him, “You’ll get there, man.”
“Really?” he says with a little laugh. “I haven’t been on so much as a decent date since college.”
“I could hook you up with one of my castoffs,” Finn says.
“Great,” Vaughn says with fake enthusiasm. “I’ll take you up on that when I get a hankering for herpes.”
I hold up a hand between their faces before Finn can respond with a retort. Or a fist.
“So that’s me,” Vaughn says, ignoring the finger Finn shoots him. “But this is about you. What do you mean, you want the simple life?”
I run a hand over the back of my neck. “Forget it.”
“Hell no,” Finn says, finishing his beer and signaling for another. “I hate to have anything in common with Country Club, but I’m curious too. All shitting aside, you’ve had a hard time of it, split between the two worlds. It blows, man.”
Vaughn nods once in agreement.
“Fine,” I mutter, taking a gulp of beer for courage. If Vaughn could spill his guts, I could too. “I want a place of my own, off the beaten path. No neighbors for miles. A place where I can get another dog for Ranger that he can hump all day long, giving my pillows a break. I want lazy nights grilling steaks with a decent glass of wine. I want—”