Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(41)

Before tonight, he’d seen pride in River’s eyes, but it had always been unfounded. Undeserved. Had something changed? Yeah. Maybe he’d finally started to wonder if River was right and he could be worth a damn. The two most beautiful faces he’d ever seen were in the audience…for him. River and Marcy were there tonight because he meant something to them. Didn’t he owe it to them to think better of himself? Otherwise he did them a disservice—and he couldn’t abide that.

Oh God, how long did he have to sit there? Colonel Moriarty had started talking, but Vaughn only wanted to hear River’s voice in his ear. Needed it like a parched wasteland needed rain. Marcy waved at him from their place in the third row, and Vaughn very nearly jumped off the stage, ready to take his two girls home. Ready to feed them and put them to sleep and be responsible for them. Forever.

When Vaughn heard his name called, he stood, moving to the podium, saluting as the medal was pinned to his chest. Hell, until that moment, none of this formal shit had meant a thing to Vaughn, but knowing his daughter—and the woman he loved—were watching him receive an honor…that would go with him to his grave as the most unexpected of frozen, perfect moments, even as he remembered the men whose lives were responsible for him being there. For his being alive to remember them at all. Without them, he might have died in that nighttime fight and never returned to River. Never conceived Marcy.

With a silent prayer of thanksgiving, Vaughn took his seat again, trading a look of gravity with River. A look he knew she would interpret correctly to mean, if I don’t get you in my arms soon, doll, I’m going to fade the f*ck away. He knew because she nodded, maybe even feeling the same exact way. One week. In less than a week, his life had become worth living, and he wouldn’t take that gift for granted. Never again.

Half an hour later, the ceremony ended with the sound of thundering applause. While the other honorees filed backstage, Vaughn jumped off the front of the elevated area, going straight to River and Marcy, kissing them both on the forehead and hustling them out the back door. By the time they reached the hotel, Marcy’s head was lolling to one side in the backseat. After leaving the Pontiac with the valet, they moved in a quiet huddle upstairs to their room, River performing some kind of modern day miracle, unpacking a healthy dinner of roasted turkey and mashed potatoes for Marcy from her overnight bag, heating it in the microwave located in the small kitchenette.

Without prompting, the sleepy child crawled up on Vaughn’s lap and ate the meal, her forehead drooping as she chewed. Employing the easiest solution he could muster, Vaughn braced a palm against Marcy’s tiny forehead to keep it from landing in the mashed potatoes, sending River into a quiet round of laughter where she observed from one of the double beds.

“What?” He could feel his lopsided grin and didn’t care. “It’s working.”

River acknowledged that with a nod. “So far your list of potential inventions includes a steel cage car seat and forehead strap.”

“Just see if I don’t follow through, doll,” he murmured. “I guess I better get started soon, because if everything goes right, I should be working at the factory starting next week.”

River’s wide smile wavered. “On the assembly line?”

Vaughn shook his head, trying not to scrutinize her reactions too closely. Was she happy? Disappointed? There was time to figure it out. They had time. At least, he was doing his damnedest to hold onto that belief. To say he’d been thrown off by the arrival of River’s father was an understatement. But no. No, he wouldn’t let anyone take away his family again. Never again. Hell, he couldn’t live without them now. Couldn’t even fathom it. “Uh…not on the line, no. Security.” He stabbed a piece of turkey with Marcy’s miniature fork, handing it to her. “I went down and spoke to the new owner. He’s kind of a dick—” Vaughn winced at his own language, sending River an apologetic look. “But he agreed to meet with me on Monday. I’ll be ready. I’m ready now.”

Without responding, River stood and moved around the room, hips swaying gently in her modest blue dress, readying one of the beds for Marcy, laying out pajamas that she tugged over the little girl’s head a moment later. After suffering through her teeth being brushed, Marcy fell asleep on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled out in four different directions. Vaughn eased the fluffy white comforter over her sleeping form and turned off the light. Then he simply stood there, a mountain range shifting inside his rib cage, the landscape changing forever.

His focus turned on a goddamn dime, though, when River slid her hand into his, tugging him toward the adjoining sitting room. She had to be exaggerating that seductive walk, because God, if her ass moved with any more intention, he’d straight up cry like a baby. His tongue felt thick and useless inside his mouth, his gut tightening as he closed the sliding door behind them.

The room was dark, making the situation illicit as he came up behind River, framing her throat with a hand, riding his other one up her right thigh. “Waiting to have you alone is going to be the hardest part, isn’t it?” He lapped at the side of her neck with a starved tongue, needing some of her taste, her scent, her texture. All of it. “Being around you is a hard-on while wearing handcuffs.”

“Vaughn…you went and got a job at the factory,” she breathed, even as her head tilted to the side. “Why wouldn’t you tell me something so important?”