Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(14)

River wasn’t embarrassed by the scar on her belly by any means, she was proud of it, but not having been a sexual object in so long—which had to account for the wicked flare of need—her hands automatically flew up to cover herself, tugging the T-shirt back into place. “I-I need to get home.”

“I’ve had one drink. I’m taking you.”

“I’m getting a cab.”

“Like hell you are.” He picked up the purse she’d almost left behind and tucked it under his arm, somehow maintaining ultimate manliness. “A cab driver can’t make sure you get up the stairs without breaking your neck.”

“Neither can you,” River sputtered, panic beginning to dawn. “You can’t just—”

“I can’t?” Vaughn inclined his head. “Aw, doll, you keep uttering that magic phrase, almost like you want me to prove you wrong.”

River didn’t have a chance to protest that insane notion before Vaughn tucked her up against his side, turned, and began to traverse the crowded bar. Something had changed, though, during the course of their conversation. The Third Shift had gone eerily silent, every patron turned in their direction. Some heads were shaking, other customers looked ready to cheer. But each of them had something in common. They were all recipients of a death glare from River.

“Since when do I glare?” she muttered, led out onto the sidewalk by Vaughn, who had an annoying smile playing around his mouth.

“Since I came back to Hook, I’m guessing.”

“That’s a pretty good indication you should leave—” River’s reproof ended in a gasp when Vaughn scooped her off the ground, settling her on the passenger seat of his truck. With a rueful look, he started to close the door, but leaned in at the last second, pinning River to the seat with sudden, breathtaking concentration.

“I was going to wait to tell you this. But you know me, Riv. I don’t live according to what someone else decides is the right schedule. And when I say something, I mean it. Like when I told you we’d wait until you were eighteen to start f*cking.” Vaughn’s tongue skated along his bottom lip, attention falling to her thighs, which crossed of their own accord. “So I’m telling you now, I’m not leaving. Give me a chance to meet her, then watch me show up every day afterward, even if you turn me away. I’ll show up and take my beating like a man, day in and day out. But you better get used to me, doll. I’m not budging.”

Thank God he stopped there, because River’s organs were all bunching together, like some organ support group, rendering her breathless. When I say something, I mean it. River didn’t doubt him. Growing up in the same town, as they’d eventually gravitated toward one another regardless of their social divide, she’d seen how Vaughn had garnered a reputation as a man of his word, whether it had been a threat or a promise. Such as promising they wouldn’t be physical until her eighteenth birthday. Or saying he wouldn’t leave Hook unless he stopped loving her. Another vow he’d upheld. And maybe it was selfish—no, it was selfish—but with the reminder of Vaughn’s staunch truthfulness ringing in her head, she could only remember one thing he’d once said. I don’t feel the same way anymore, Riv.

To this day, she must have been holding out hope he had been lying that night, because the last piece of hope left standing…crumbled, revealing her selfishness. Was sending Vaughn out of Hook best for Marcy? Or best for her brutalized heart? Maybe she couldn’t be objective where the father of her child was concerned. But regardless of Vaughn’s promise not to leave again, she didn’t know if trusting him emotionally would ever be an option. Not when she’d handed over her love and had it returned full of holes.

Still…when Marcy became an adult and asked why she’d never met her father, how would River explain sending him away when there was a chance he’d keep his word?

River tore her gaze away from Vaughn, staring straight through the windshield. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” His voice had turned suspicious.

River forced a smile onto her face, but the corners of her mouth felt weighted. “I’ll get used to you, I guess.” She wiped a palm on her jeans. “We will.”

Vaughn didn’t respond for long moments, but River could feel his scrutiny. “Thank you, Riv.” God, he was standing very still, so still. “I don’t understand it. Why do I feel like I just lost here?”

“It’s been a long day.” She swallowed the fist-sized lump in her throat. “Can you just take me home?”





Chapter Six


I’ve lost her.

A ridiculous goddamn thought, since he’d lost River forty-nine months and four days earlier. Once upon a time, reading River had been simple as breathing. Back when she’d still been in night school and he’d been nothing more than a part-time grease monkey with no high school diploma. When she’d needed reassurance of his feelings, she’d stop talking and clean something, rearranging trinkets on her bedroom shelves until Vaughn got the picture, snatched the broom out of her hand and gave eye contact, lots of it, until she came back down to earth, where he lived for the sole purpose of being her man.

When River had wanted sex—which had been early and often—she would rotate her hips, just a little, no matter where they were. She would push up on her toes and writhe, so subtle that only he noticed. Hell, he’d come to the conclusion that River herself hadn’t been aware of the tempting action. Yeah…that mating dance had gotten her pulled into enclosed spaces all over Hook, although sometimes they didn’t even make it that far. That senior year, when she’d turned eighteen halfway through? He’d f*cked her an obscene number of times in the alley behind Hook High right after the dismissal bell rang, her textbooks in a scattered heap on the concrete, her slim fingers clinging to the chain link fence, or those long legs dangling around his hips, shaking with the impact of him.