He set the aloe next to her on the bed. “You should probably do your neck too.”
She took the cue and gathered the sheet around her. She felt a little disoriented with sleep, and she was more than a little afraid she would drop the sheet and end up standing there only in her pajama shorts. Vaughn watched her with a knowing smile—with no trace of the strange vulnerability she’d seen before.
Somehow, she made it to the bathroom without flashing him. She soothed the gel on her neck and between her breasts before slipping back on her nightshirt. Ordinarily, she’d wear a bra with male company around, but there was no way that would be happening today. Her hair was slightly matted and a bit wild, but nothing Vaughn hadn’t seen before during river runs. She decided to leave it.
She found Vaughn on the bed, munching on a bag of trail mix and watching something on his laptop. “I have some peach cobbler in the fridge,” she told him. Her own stomach was growling.
He gave her a crooked smile. “I just ordered us a pizza. You said on the phone you were hungry, and that was six hours ago.”
“What are you watching?”
“Anything you want.”
“Really?” He had to be teasing her. Usually they ended up watching comedies or action shows, which they both enjoyed. She reserved the sappy romances for nights with her foster sisters, and he watched the more violent movies with his friends. “How about that remake of Cinderella?” she teased right back.
He laughed and turned the laptop screen toward her to show he’d already pulled it up. “How many times will this be?”
“Only the third.” She and her foster sisters had watched it twice together. He’d bowed out of watching it with them, but he’d apparently listened to how much she’d loved it. “You don’t have to,” she said.
“I want to.” He patted the bed beside him. “Come sit down.”
She settled on the bed, relieved that her back was no longer on fire. Sitting here with him felt natural, like all the many other times they’d snuggled and watched movies together. She laid her head on his shoulder.
His hand came up to stroke her hair, but he stopped short of touching her. She tilted her head to see that his smile had faltered just a little. Was he realizing again as she was that this was not a date, and he shouldn’t touch her that way? And what was wrong with her that she wanted him to?
Just habit, she told herself, lifting her head. She had to be more careful. He was too nice to hurt.
He started the movie and they were well engrossed by the time the pizza arrived. By the time they’d eaten their fill and the movie ended, Saffron had been able to push her terrible day mostly from her mind.
He closed the laptop, plunging them into darkness. “Okay, let’s get more of the aloe on you.”
Her heart started pounding. How could he sound so sexy just saying that? What was wrong with her? “Okay,” she said faintly. But this time she wasn’t hurting as bad, so she pulled her knees to her chest and lifted up the back of her nightshirt as best she could.
He switched on the light before edging toward her. Casually, he lifted the back of her shirt further and began spreading on the cool gel. A soft moan escaped her lips.
His hand paused. “Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No. It feels nice.”
“Ah.” His hand started moving again. Was that amusement in his voice? She didn’t really care.
“So,” he said after a few seconds. “Do you want to talk about what happened with your mother?”
She thought it over. “Maybe.”
“What happened?”
She swallowed hard, keeping her face pointed away from him. “I had a baby.”
This he apparently did not expect. His hand stilled for the space of two heartbeats. Then he picked up his rhythmic motion again. “A baby,” he murmured. “When?”
“I was sixteen when I found out I was pregnant and barely seventeen when he was born. But he died.”
“I’m so sorry.” He finished rubbing in the gel and gently tugged the back of her shirt down. She looked at him then, arms still curled around her knees. His eyes glistened as he reached for her hand. “Tell me about it.”
Before she could help herself, she was talking. Telling him how she’d felt abandoned by Tyson and about living on the street. How much hope she’d had for her son and how bitterly it had ended. She alternated between calm rushes and stretches of sobbing, but she told him everything. Even about taking the sleeping pills the week after losing her baby. About Lily finding her and rushing her to the hospital. She showed him the precious pictures in the jewelry box and told him about her reunion with Tyson.
Through it all he listened, asking a few questions, and holding and soothing her through the tears. She clung to him, grateful for his compassion. She’d always known he was a kind man, but she’d never felt so exposed before.
Of course, this confession had to change things between them, especially the part about her attempt to take her own life. Maybe that was why she hadn’t yet told Tyson.
“I know it was weak,” she said. “And that’s why you’re the only one besides Lily who knows about this. Well, and I let it slip to my mother today when I was so upset. But I don’t want people to know, even those closest to me. I don’t want them to think I’m weak. I haven’t seriously thought about doing anything like that since . . .”
No, she had to be honest, especially since she was pretty sure he could read the almost lie in her face. “But today, the feelings I had when talking to my mother—or screaming at her, rather—reminded me of how I felt that day. I understood why I did what I did, and for the briefest second . . .” Could she really say it? “For the briefest second, I thought that if I’d succeeded, I wouldn’t still be hurting now.” There. Now she’d told him everything.
He tightened his one-armed hold on her, bringing her closer to his chest. His very good-smelling and safe chest. His chin came down to rest on her head, and his hand was smoothing her hair, apparently forgetting he no longer had the right to touch her that way. Or maybe her confessions had given him that right. Whatever the reason, she was glad.
“You went through a lot at far too young an age,” he said so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “It’s natural those emotions would come up again today when confronting your mom. Understanding your old self is a far cry from repeating the action.” He stopped talking, and she felt him kiss her hair. “You’re a good, strong woman, Saffron. I’m just sorry I didn’t know any of this before. It makes things much clearer.”
He had to be referring to her inability to commit, and she couldn’t protest because there was a long line of wrecked relationships behind her—relationships she’d started with no intention of continuing past two months. Including hers and Vaughn’s.
She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. “I thought I wanted to forget. I thought if no one knew, it would help me forget.” A lump appeared in her throat, threatening to choke her. “Then I came here. Now, I want everyone to remember. I want them to feel his loss like I do.” Did he hear the hardness in her voice? “Now it’s them who want me to forget and go on.”
Even Tyson seemed to want that. If he knew how much merely looking at his mother hurt her heart, he’d probably think her weak, unable to forgive. “It’s not about forgiveness,” she said, in case Vaughn had a similar feeling. “I just don’t want to forget him. Ever. Or devalue his life and what we went through.”
“They probably feel bad for you and think it would be best for you to forget.” The way his finger glided up her cheek and around her ear and through her hair was hypnotic. “But I don’t think you’ll ever forget. Or even that you should. No matter what, I think it’ll always be a part of you in some way.”
“I wish it didn’t hurt as much when I’m with the people I knew then, or even when I’m by myself. It doesn’t make sense. Coming here was supposed to make it better.”
His other arm came up around her. “Does it hurt
right now?” His voice was gentle like his touch.
Strangely it didn’t. The memory was there, but the cavernous ache that normally filled her was missing. “I guess talking helps.” Did that mean she should tell Tyson everything? Or maybe Vaughn was safe for her to confide in because he didn’t hold her heart.
“You can talk about it any time you want,” he said. “I’ll always be here.”
He couldn’t mean that, of course, and if she stayed with Tyson, Vaughn would have to give up on her. But for the moment, she was going to enjoy his friendship and support.
“I should go,” Vaughn whispered. “You need some sleep. I’ll come back in the morning.”
A surge of panic filled her. “Please stay. You can sleep in the other bed. No one else is going to be here. It’s silly paying for another room when it’s almost morning.”
“Okay,” he said. But he didn’t move, and neither did she.
Saffron let herself drift, feeling comforted and for the first time in days completely content. She thought of baby Tyson, and instead of the heart-wrenching pain, she remembered the love she’d felt when she held him.
21
Vaughn awoke at the ringing of a phone. Not his. He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling and then down to the woman sleeping in his arms. Her hair fanned out over his arm and the pillow, slightly matted as though it had dried without being brushed. Just the way it looked on river runs. Her lashes left delicate shadows on her smooth cheeks, and each curve of her face was perfect. She slept with abandon. The ends of her pink nightshirt had crept up to show matching polka-dotted shorts and a slice of her side. Her hand rested on his stomach, her cheek nestled in the crux of his shoulder. She was beautiful.
It wasn’t the first time they’d fallen asleep this way watching a movie, but this morning it was bittersweet for him, knowing the only reason she was here was because the man she loved hadn’t been. He’d heard the excitement in her voice last night when she’d told him about reconnecting with the father of her baby, and it was all he could do to hide his agony and prevent himself from leaving to lick his wounds in private. He wanted her happiness, after all. But how could this man give her happiness if she had to find comfort in Vaughn’s arms instead?
“I won’t give up,” he whispered, smoothing her hair. “Not until you want me to.” Because the happiness in her eyes when he’d shown up last night hadn’t been fake.
The attraction they’d always shared was as strong as ever, and watching her in that sheet had nearly undone him, but he’d gotten through it somehow. Several times during the movie, it seemed as if she’d almost forgotten they were broken up and had appeared close to kissing him. He’d had to clamp down on his own self-control so he didn’t read too much into it. However much he wanted Saffron, it wasn’t fair to push his agenda with her now, not with what she was going through.
With her revelations, everything made sense now—everything except why she seemed so hung up on a man who hadn’t fought for her. She’d excused Tyson because of his age, but Vaughn wasn’t buying it. Sixteen-year-old males were some of the most obsessed, hormone-driven creatures he’d ever known. Tyson never should have believed she would leave.
Vaughn himself had no plans to back down unless she told him she wanted him to. Emotionally, he might not be able to play the role of the boyfriend she wouldn’t commit to, but in reality he was still that man. He craved her touch, her smile, her laugh. He wanted to wake up every morning with her like this in his arms. He wanted to make love to her each and every day until forever. He wanted to see her smiling down at the face of their own son or daughter.
As if feeling his gaze, she moved. She sucked in a breath, her mouth opening in a yawn at the same time her eyelids lifted. She met his gaze, blinked twice, and gave a little gasp. “Oh, sorry.” She sat up, wiping her mouth with her fingertips. A mouth that was full and moist and kissable. “I didn’t mean to drool on you all night.”
His gaze dropped to the small wet spot on his shirt where her mouth had been. He laughed. “I didn’t mind.”
She raked a hand through her hair in that alluring way women had of trying to put things right. It took a renewed dose of self-control not to reach out and pull her back into his arms and kiss her senseless.
“You look beautiful.” The words escaped him before he thought about how she’d take the compliment.
“Thanks,” she said.
For a moment they sat there, facing each other, the sexual tension between them building. He almost felt that if he did kiss her, she’d kiss him back—and the world would stop moving. Before last Friday night, he would have done exactly that.
But that was before he’d broken up with her, and before she’d run back to the wimpy father of her child.
Child. She’d had a baby—and lost a baby. All by herself. The awfulness of what she’d gone through still shook him. It explained so much about her refusal to talk about children, to create relationships with his family, to accept his love. Seeing her so vulnerable had fired all his protective urges. He’d stayed up long after she’d gone to sleep, holding her and battling his anger against the people who’d failed her. Yet if they hadn’t failed her, he would never have met and fallen in love with her. If she hadn’t recovered from betrayal, she might be a completely different person from the strong-willed, determined woman who had stolen his heart. It seemed to be a paradox he couldn’t resolve. He only knew he loved her, and that on some level she loved him too, even if she couldn’t admit it to herself. Why else would she be looking at him the way she was right now? With an expression that ripped away all his guards and laid bare his soul.
Saffron gave a little shake of her head, accompanied by an embarrassed laugh. “Thank you for coming last night. Apparently, I needed a listening ear.” She climbed from the bed and moved away, digging in a drawer for some clothes, and the tension between them eased.
“Apparently.” He made his voice teasing. “Let’s get ready and go out for breakfast.”
“They have a pretty good breakfast downstairs. And it’s free.”
Another thing he loved about her. She didn’t waste money—something he’d been sure she learned at Lily’s House but might have also come from her time on the street. Her frugalness had certainly worked to his advantage last night when he’d suggested he leave.
“You mean the free breakfast they upped the price of the rooms to pay for?” he said, winking at her.
She chuckled. “Probably.”
“Okay, we’ll do lunch instead.”
“I thought you were coming down to meet with Datatoon. Do you have an interview?”
He shrugged. “They don’t actually know I’m here yet, though I did give them a heads up that I might be in town this week. I’ll probably make the appointment for Friday.” Now that he was here two days early, he wasn’t sure how it would all play out. “I’ll call them in a bit.”
He lifted up the bottle of aloe. “So how’s your back? We should probably put this on again.” He told himself his reminder wasn’t because he wanted to touch her.
Saffron moved her shoulders around a bit, testing her back. “It almost doesn’t hurt at all. I think I might be able to put it on myself.” She took the bottle from him and headed to the bathroom.
Vaughn fought his disappointment, though it was probably for the best. He was already frustrated enough as it was. “So when do I get to meet this guy, Tyson?”
She popped her head out of the bathroom. “Uh, never.”
“Why not?” He had to work to make his voice light. “I mean, you and I are friends, right?” He stressed the word friends. “Why shouldn’t I meet him?”
“You know why.” She disappeared.
Because I’m in love with you, he thought. “I could give him some tips on sunscreen application so you don’t get burned in the future.”
She poked her head out again, her forehead wrinkled with a concern he would have found adorable if it didn’t hurt so much to think of that other man touc
hing her. “I won’t need help with sunscreen.” She hesitated. “Look, Vaughn. I know you came here to help, and I appreciate it, but that doesn’t mean . . . I’m trying to get my life back.”
His heart plummeted. “I know,” he said, still using his teasing voice. “I won’t tell him I spent the night.”
She rolled her eyes and disappeared again. He heard the lock snap shut.
Sighing, he reached for his phone to call his friends at Datatoon Studios and let them know he was in town. He’d arrange for a quick visit and spend the rest of his time in California concentrating on Saffron. Except she’d told him about her date with Tyson this evening, and the way she’d talked had made it seem important. He had only a few hours to make a difference, and how could he do that when he couldn’t even kiss her?
At the moment, he wanted to kiss her more than anything. Kissing her was unlike kissing any other woman. He couldn’t explain it, but it was so good between them that it couldn’t all be one-sided. Unless he was crazy, which maybe he was.
After setting up a meeting Friday morning with Datatoon, Vaughn stacked all the scattered boxes and suitcases neatly in a corner behind the table while debating possible plans for the day. He’d been hoping for months to take Saffron parasailing, but that wouldn’t work today with her sunburn. Pulling on a wetsuit was difficult enough without inflamed skin. Maybe instead they could take a boat to Catalina Island and have a romantic lunch. It was beautiful there, and if they stayed late enough, she might have to cancel her date tonight.
At that thought, his frustration reared its ugly head again. What if nothing he did made a difference?
“Vaughn?”
He turned to see her standing there in a flared pink skirt and white top he’d never seen before that left her legs and arms bare. The top was loose and reminded him of the peasant blouses in medieval films. Her still-damp hair lay straight around her shoulders, perfectly framing a face that had come alive with subtle touches of makeup. He didn’t know how women did that, but he loved her both with and without the extra paint. He knew his admiration showed in his eyes when she blushed.
Broken Lies Page 20