Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

Cooper laughed and walked down the bar to clean up an imaginary spillage.

Vaughn stared after him, in that moment wishing he’d never let his guard down with the man or his too-smart-for-her-own-good doctor girlfriend.

“So . . .” his father drawled at his side. “Who’s Bailey?”

“I find it strange that you don’t want to tell me anything about this woman,” William said as they walked out of Cooper’s twenty minutes later.

If his father had been pestering him about any other woman he would have laughed. It was like he was fifteen all over again. His dad had walked in on him getting to second base with Jillian Grace, a girl in the class above him at their prep school, and he’d amused himself by peppering Vaughn with annoying and embarrassing questions all night.

“There’s not a lot to tell.” Vaughn tried not to sound exasperated. “And I thought you might want a coffee to wash down the scotch.”

“Yes, it was a bit early for that.” William buttoned his suit jacket as he followed Vaughn toward Emery’s.

“This place does great cappuccinos. Be warned, the owner is very socially awkward,” Vaughn said. “Beautiful woman. Independently wealthy. Atrocious at talking to men—crippled by inexplicable shyness. It’s a shame.”

“Because otherwise you would have added her to your repertoire of bedmates?”

He smirked, just to be annoying. “Probably.”

“Obviously you’ve not had this Bailey Hartwell in your bed. I’m guessing by her name she’s a member of the founding famil—wait a minute. Is this the woman that tried to postpone your plans for building the hotel?” William stopped just outside Emery’s.

“Yes. When she saw the architect’s drawings she campaigned with the new mayor to have the plans relooked at. But they’d already been passed by the planning council under the last mayor’s purview so there was nothing they could do. Except stir up animosity from the locals. Which was fun for me.” He remembered the trouble Bailey had caused. Once the hotel was up and time had passed, that animosity had waned, but no thanks to the mouthy redhead who fired up his blood beyond reasoning.

“I remember.” William nodded. “She sounds spirited.”

“That’s not the word I wo

uld use,” Vaughn muttered, pushing open the door to the coffeehouse.

He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Bailey leaning across the counter, laughing with Emery.

One, he was surprised to see her. Two, he was surprised to see her laughing considering she’d just been betrayed by the man she loved.

His dad bumped into him. “Jesus, Vaughn, what—” His father peered past him to the two women at the counter. “Oh. Well, yes, those two are definitely stop-you-in-your-tracks-worthy.”

Ignoring that comment Vaughn moved cautiously toward the counter. All of a sudden he didn’t know how to act around Bailey. She straightened up at his approach, watching him with a narrowed green-gold gaze filled with the usual suspicion she felt toward him. There were dark circles under her eyes, but that was the only sign that something might be amiss. In fact she looked remarkably well for a woman whose ten-year relationship had just come to an end.

“Miss Hartwell. Miss Saunders.”

Emery gave him a flustered half smile, half nod.

“This is my father, William Tremaine. Dad, this is Bailey Hartwell; she owns Hart’s Inn at the end of the boards, and Emery Saunders owns this establishment.”

His dad held out his hand first to Bailey and then Emery. Bailey raised an eyebrow (Vaughn assumed at his father’s congeniality) but she shook his hand. Emery flushed bright red as she shook his father’s hand and refused to meet his eyes as she murmured, “Hello.”

William grinned harder at her shyness. “You have a lovely property, Miss Saunders.” He glanced around at the feminine, cozy bookstore and coffeehouse. The coffeehouse and its shy owner had a way of making a man fully aware of his masculinity. Vaughn always felt too large, too alien in the pretty store. To some men, like Cooper who had expressed his discomfort around Emery, that was off-putting. Not to Vaughn, and he imagined not to some others. In a way both Emery and her place were altogether alluring in their utter femininity and mystery. If he were a different man who wasn’t encumbered with a debilitating fear of commitment or an annoying infatuation with a certain redhead, Vaughn might have tried to draw Emery Saunders out of her shell.

And he had no doubt there were other men who would feel that compulsion. Vaughn just hoped when the time came it wasn’t a man who would use her to get to the considerable wealth she’d inherited from her grandmother—information that was for now only known among the trusted community of the owners of boardwalk businesses. Unfortunately, it was also known by the Devlin family, which had researched Emery when she inherited the property on the boardwalk, property that was part of a number of investments her grandmother had made over the years.

Ian Devlin and his sons hadn’t tried playing mind games or using underhand tactics in order to gain her property as they had done with Cooper and Bailey in the past. In fact Emery wasn’t even aware the Devlins had looked into her when she took over the place. But Vaughn was aware, and he was keeping an eye on the situation.

Emery Saunders was vulnerable.

And he didn’t like that she had no family watching her back.

“Thank you.” Emery’s quiet reply was a vast improvement considering it involved actual words, and Vaughn wondered if Bailey was partly responsible for helping Emery gain some social confidence.

William smiled at Bailey. “So, Miss Hartwell. I hear you’re keeping my son on his toes while I’m not around to do it.”