Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(32)

“Did you just whistle at us?”

“Do we look like a pack of golden retrievers to you?”

“I knew your uncle, Vaughn De Matteo. He was an *, but he sure as shit never whistled at nobody.”

“Where’s this kid? Are we here to watch a kid or what?”

Vaughn looked down for a moment, before he took a deep breath and tried again. “Look, I’m sorry about the whistling, all right? I’m nervous as hell.” He slicked anxious fingers through his hair. “This was my idea. And Marcy’s only been my daughter a few days. She’s…you know. Perfect. So could you ladies just take good care of her for me?”

There was a long silence—and then Vaughn was smothered by four sets of arms and bosoms, perfume snaking into his throat. Someone was patting his back with such force, he was pretty sure his shoulder blades were being relocated.

“He’s cute when he’s not demeaning us.”

“Not in town three days and he’s off the market. This is why. This is why we need to try that online dating.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he croaked, just in time for the front door to open behind him. River’s laugh had the corners of his own mouth lifting. But it was Marcy’s shy hello that made the network of arms fall away from his body, to the tune of high-pitched squeals. He turned to watch as the four women shuffled Marcy into the living room, pulling toys and coloring books out of various storage spots, turning the space into a full-fledged kid paradise in under a minute. One of the women—whom Duke had introduced as Lisa—removed a makeup bag from her purse and started applying lip balm to a giggling Marcy’s mouth.

River stole his attention, though, when she glided into the kitchen to retrieve her purse. Dressed in some kind of wrap-around red dress, she was a stick of f*cking dynamite. Christ, he wasn’t going to have peace until he’d peeled that clinging material off of her curves and spread her legs. Please, if you’re listening upstairs, let me end the night inside my woman.

Not an appropriate request for the Big Guy, but then again, he’d never been an appropriate man. Not on his best day.

When River returned from the kitchen, Vaughn wrapped an arm around her waist, losing the ability to breathe when she leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Right here. “Hiya, doll,” he murmured. “Marcy will be okay, right?”

River nodded, her forehead nudging his jaw. “She’s in heaven.” She slipped her hand into his bigger one. “Take me somewhere, Vaughn.”

They didn’t make it down the porch steps before Vaughn pushed River up against the railing and gave her a slow, wicked kiss. “You trying to stop my heart in that red dress? It might just work.” He licked along the underside of her jaw. “You’ll have to help me get it ticking again.”

She gasped when his teeth snagged on the flesh behind her earlobe. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Don’t make me talk about f*cking you. Not out loud. Not yet,” he groaned into the crook of her neck. “I’m taking you to eat. We’re doing foreplay, you and I.”

“Foreplay. Right.” River nodded, but yanked him in for a kiss that damn near had steam coming out of his ears, then pulled away with a seductive smile before he could slip her the tongue. Damn. A lot had changed since yesterday, when he couldn’t read her. She’d lost that guarded expression, and he was damn grateful. Would it last if he managed to come clean? Vaughn didn’t know, but secrets were their enemy at this point. An enemy he’d never be able to defeat without the truth.

As much as he could give.

He beat River to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door and holding out an assisting hand to boost her up. “Goddamn,” he growled when she bent at the waist to duck into the cab, lifting the dress’s hem to display smooth, bare thighs. “No panty hose anymore, huh? I can definitely live with that change.”

“My mother isn’t here to force me into them now.” She crossed her legs slowly. “Either way, I don’t remember you complaining about them.”

“Complaining?” Vaughn rubbed a hand over his open mouth. “I was too busy ripping them off with my teeth.”

River’s cheeks darkened. “Maybe I should go back inside and put some on.”

Vaughn closed the passenger side door, his laugh echoing down the block. Hard as he could, Vaughn tried to hold on to the humor, to retain the lightness River shot into his bloodstream, but as always, the houses caught his attention as they drove. They were in a nicer section of town, residences lit up from within by soft lamplight, gardens blooming in the front yards. You can’t give her that.

Through sheer force of will, Vaughn shoved aside the plaguing thoughts and focused on now. River sat within his reach. They were actually out together, on a date, and if that wasn’t reason to be grateful, nothing was.

He was glad she didn’t ask him where they were headed, because her expression when they pulled up in front of Park Place, a small bistro just outside of Hook, was so beautiful, he had to look away. “You remember this place.”

“Of course I do,” she said after a moment.

“The one time I could afford to buy you a decent meal.” He tugged the keys out of the truck’s ignition. “Then I ruined the whole night. Your nineteenth birthday night. Told you I’d boosted a car in Manhattan to pay for dinner.”