Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(33)

Good plan, Vaughn. Start off the night reminding her what a degenerate you were.

“No. You tried to ruin the night. I wouldn’t let you.” River wet her lips. “If I remember correctly, we skipped dessert and went back to your place.”

“You’re not remembering correctly.” He stared out through the front windshield. “I drove us to a park one block over, and you rode me in the backseat.”

She uncrossed her legs, but kept them pressed together. “You’re not going to make talking easy, saying things like that.”

He gave her a look full of meaning. “There won’t be nothing easy about what needs saying tonight, doll.”

“Okay.” Her chest lifted and fell on a deep breath. “Say it anyway.”

…

Being out with a man, as a woman, while wearing a dress, was a first for River. Because while she treasured the memory of Vaughn taking her out for a birthday dinner at Park Place, she hadn’t been a woman anywhere but on paper. This was an entirely new world. A world she’d never entered for two reasons—the daughter she’d loved every moment of raising, despite the hardships, and the man across from her.

Sitting across from any man other than Vaughn would have felt like cheating, even if it were ten years from the day he’d left. Right or wrong, she’d never allowed him to loosen the hold on her. In a way, she’d even reveled in the leftover feelings—the memories, his ultra possessive manner, the euphoria she’d experienced seeing him for the first time. Some people probably went their whole lives without the sensation of flying. What would have been the point in trying to find that again when no one else caused even the mildest reaction?

Her reactions were different now. Tonight. Sitting in the glow of a crackling fire in her best red dress, she wasn’t a bright-eyed teenager anymore. There were stakes in place. No more putting on blinders to Vaughn’s issues, pretending everything would be okay. She’d done that once and she’d been blindsided and abandoned for her efforts. River didn’t know what would come of Vaughn’s return to Hook, but she knew it started with listening. With Vaughn finally talking. With putting aside her own pain and trying to understand.

River ordered a glass of wine, Vaughn a bottle of Budweiser. Both of them were running nervous palms down their thighs, something they noticed at the same time and started to laugh. “Jesus, this feels like a first date,” Vaughn muttered. “I guess it is. Guess we’re starting from scratch.”

“I don’t think that’s possible for us,” River answered, just above a whisper. “The past is too…present.”

Vaughn stared at her until the waiter delivered their drinks, then picked up the bottle by its neck and leaned forward. “I know. I know it, Riv. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on the goddamn planet right now, okay? Tell me that counts for something.”

Her pulse skittered. “It does.”

He shoved aside his beer, as if he’d never really wanted it in the first place. “My colonel being there today…this is going to be hard for me to talk about. It’s going to be the first time, so I just need to say it.”

River barely managed a nod. She wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but he looked too untouchable in that moment, encased in the firelight.

A small silence passed before Vaughn started speaking. “When I was stationed in Afghanistan…” He cleared his throat. “We did these security rounds. Only they lasted hours. Eight of us to a truck, patrolling the zone we’d been assigned.” The waiter chose that unfortunate moment to take their order, which they recited quickly and then fell back into a brief silence. “One night—it was at night—we met resistance. Took on enemy fire, which we returned…it seemed to go on forever, Riv. Hours. And I was the only one left standing at the end of it. Out of ammunition, just trying to hide bodies of my guys so they wouldn’t get blown apart.”

When River lifted a hand to her mouth, Vaughn cursed under his breath.

“I didn’t want to tell you this. It makes me crazy knowing you’re taking on thoughts like this. From me, especially.”

She dropped her hand. “I want to take them on. Please finish telling me.”

Beneath the table, Vaughn’s foot pressed against River’s. “I carried them back. My guys. It took me all night.” He wasn’t looking at her now. Wasn’t seeing her. “I kept thinking the enemy would be back to finish the job, or to clear the road, and they would find me and end it. But they must have moved on to something or someone else, because I got our soldiers back to the perimeter of camp.” He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Just laid them there. But I-I thought it was better than leaving them in the street—”

River broke free from her frozen state, if only to shake her head slowly. Inside, she felt the slow, churning death Vaughn must have experienced that night so far away and wanted to weep for him—for the young man he’d been forced to leave behind—but tears would have to come later, when he’d been reassured. “You did do the right thing,” River breathed. “Better than right, Vaughn. All that closure you provided…it was invaluable.” She searched around the table, as if the proper words would appear on the floor. “I’m so proud of you.”

A sound left him, a gruff heave of weight leaving his chest. The muscles in his throat moved up and down. “Proud of me? Look what you’ve done with our child. She’s incredible thanks to you, Riv. I’m proud of you.” The intensity in his gaze hit her like a ton of bricks. “You know what, though? If you have pride in me, I’m not going to question it. I don’t care about anything else in this life. Nothing but that. Is that wrong?”