Chapter 13

Irealized just what a huge mistake I had made when I shut the door to my office behind Vaughn, sealing us in together.

I should have taken him out into the parking lot for this conversation, not closed myself in a room where just turning around would have me bumping into those linebacker shoulders of his. It wasn't like it was a very big office in the first place, but having him in the space made it feel like a shoebox. A shoebox that suddenly smelled strongly of his amber and spice scent. God, why did he have to smell so damn good? It was probably going to take forever to get that smell out of here.

I moved around my desk, putting some space between us, and plopped down into my chair before waving for him to take one of the small fluffy white upholstered chairs sitting across from me. Like most everything else in the Three's a Charm building, my office was designed to cater to our clientele, meaning everything was soft and feminine and downright pretty.

As soon as Vaughn sat down, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculous he looked. Even all that BDE he was swaggering around with was no match for tufted velvet. He shifted his considerable bulk in an attempt to get comfortable. When that proved to be impossible, he shot me a withering look. "Really? You couldn't have sprung for full-sized furniture? You had to get these hobbit chairs?"

I rocked back in the white leather executive chair, bracing my elbows on the arms and steepling my fingers together. "You aren't exactly our target demographic here." The skin around my eyes tightened as I narrowed them into a vicious glare. "We cater more toward the bride. You know, the woman who most likely doesn't know her fiancé is running around kissing complete strangers?"

His chin came up, his eyes pinning me in place. "What?"

"You came in demanding that we help you plan your wedding. That's what Becca said before you ran her off. You know, the sweet receptionist you made cry? Still not over that, by the way."

His top lip curled up, exposing a row of straight pearly white teeth. "Trust me, there is no woman. I know this may come off as an insult given your line of work, but I have absolutely no intention of marrying. Ever."

My face pinched up. "Then who—" I stopped and sucked in a jagged gasp. "You did not come here demanding that we coordinate the wedding of your sister to my ex-fiancé!"

"In my defense, I didn't know it was your company at the time."

I shot out of my chair, bracing my palms on the top of my desk. "Nope. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not. You may as well just go now."

Vaughn closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly blowing out a breath like he was silently counting to ten. When he finally opened his eyes again, that impassive mask of his was back in place. "Would you please sit down so we can talk like two adults?"

If people didn't stop telling me to behave like an adult, I was going to start throwing shit. "You have a lot of nerve, you know that? I can't believe?—"

"I'm not going to ask you to plan Leighton's wedding, alright?" He pushed an irritated gust of breath past his lips. "Believe it or not, I'm not that big of an asshole. I didn't come here for Leighton anyway. I came for my father."

Something moved over his face, a flash of emotion I might have missed if I hadn't been paying close enough attention. It was there and gone from one blink of an eye to the next, but the impact of that one little blip was strong enough to steal the breath from my lungs, it was so profound.

I collapsed back into my chair, the fight draining out of me. "I don't understand. For your father?"

A vein in his neck throbbed, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently on a thick swallow. "He's sick. That's why I temporarily relocated to Pembrooke in the first place. But Leighton..." He reached up to rub at his temple. "She seems to forget he's undergoing treatment for cancer. Or maybe she doesn't consider it since it's not about her. Either way, he's spoiled her since the moment she was born, and when she called him, crying that she couldn't get an appointment with the most popular wedding coordinators in the area, he was going to try to handle it himself. I couldn't let him do that. Not when he needs to focus on himself."

My chest expanded on such a deep breath, it was a wonder I didn't pop a lung. A lump the size of a golf ball had taken up residence in my throat, and I had to work overtime to swallow it down. "I-I'm sorry about your dad," I said quietly. "I didn't know."

He gave his head a resounding shake. "I wouldn't expect you to. And it's fine. He's going to be okay. Eventually."

"But it's still hard. I get it."

His head came up, his eyes narrowing on me like I'd spoken aloud what he was thinking. His expression shifted again, turning hard all of a sudden, as if he was angry at himself for showing even the slightest bit of vulnerability. If it were possible, he grew grumpier.

"Anyway, that's all beside the point." He paused, reaching up to tug at the collar of his dress shirt. This one was the palest blue that really made that rim of copper on the outside of his irises stand out. The man really did have a hard-on for his suits, but I had to admit, he could wear the hell out of them, that was for damn sure. He cleared his throat, almost seeming nervous. "We should probably talk about the... you know."

I swiveled my chair from side to side as I scrutinized the man sitting in front of me, looking ridiculous in a chair that was two sizes too small for him. My brows rose toward my hairline. "You mean how you dropped a bomb on my life by kissing me in front of half the town and told my ex we were dating?"

Those notches between his brows deepened with his frown. "Excuse me for doing you a favor."

I let out a bark of exasperated laughter, my eyes widening. "I never asked you to do that! I'm perfectly capable of handling my ex on my own, thank you very much."

He tucked his tongue into the inside of his cheek, giving me a dubious look that prodded at my insides. "Really? Because you looked like you were two seconds away from running out of that building like your ass was on fire." He let out a scoffing laugh. "That would have shown him, wouldn't it?"

I tried my hardest to mask the wince his words caused, but I must not have been fast enough, because instead of looking like he'd just scored a point, his expression fell like he'd just accidentally kicked one of those adorable puppies that are tiny enough to fit into a tea cup.

"I'm—" The muscle in his jaw ticked as his nostrils flared on a sharp exhale. "Sorry," he gritted out like that one word left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I shouldn't have said that. It was unnecessarily rude."

"Is that supposed to mean all the other times you've been an asshole to me have been necessary?"

He reached up to massage at the center of his forehead like I was the most vexing person he'd ever met, and I would have been lying if I said I didn't get a little thrill out of that. "Look, I'm not... very comfortable with apologies."

I snorted. "Really? You hide it so well."

The hard look he shot me probably would have sent most other people running. But for some strange reason, I found it thrilling. "Why did you do it?" I asked. That question had needled at me for days now. "It's clear you don't like me, so why bother trying to help me out?"

"I don't... not like you," he said, his voice low and rusty, and that admission rendered me momentarily speechless. "I can acknowledge that our first couple of encounters weren't ideal, but I don't dislike you. I do, however dislike your ex." His expression turned to granite. "Very much."

"What? Don't like the thought of him with your precious little sister?" I hadn't meant to say that, but I especially hadn't meant for my snide tone to give away my true feelings of Leighton Cavanagh.

I'd expected Vaughn to get offended, expected that he was another person in her life that spoiled her and turned her into the vapid little brat she had become, so it shocked the hell out of me when he scoffed, shaking his head on an emotionless laugh. "Please. I wouldn't exactly call us close. And as far as I can tell, the two of them were made for each other."

It was a wonder the bottom of my jaw didn't slam into the top of my desk from falling open so fast. Catching the surprise on my face, one corner of Vaughn's mouth curled upward ever so slightly in a cocky smirk. It was the closest I'd seen him come to smiling—probably the closest the stoic man would ever get. For crying out loud, he was so emotionally stunted that his attempt at apologizing had been cringe-inducing. He looked like he would have preferred to gargle glass than force those words out.

"Caught you off guard with that, didn't I?"

I wiped the surprise off of my face and replaced it with a flat, bored expression. "If it's not because you're worried about your sister, why don't you like Barrett?" I probably should have let it go, but my curiosity was well and truly piqued, and the question would bug me until I finally caved and asked anyway.

"Because from what little I know about the man, he's a spinless, sacless doormat who is all too happy to lay down at my half-sister's feet so she can step all over him," he answered with raw honesty. I also didn't miss the way he stressed the word half while describing his connection with Leighton, like it was important to him that I understood the distinction.

"He won't admit it, but I'm almost positive he ended our engagement and broke up with me for her." My eyes widened and my hand came up to cover my mouth as soon as the last word of that sentence escaped, like I could possibly pull them back, unsay them somehow. I wasn't sure what the hell had possessed me to reveal something so personal to this man. That was the first time I'd spoken the words out loud. I hadn't even been able to bring myself to admit that ugly truth to Tarryn or Ryan. I'd been sitting on it for the past year, letting the shame that belief caused fester inside me.

I shook my head, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable. "I-I don't know why the hell I told you that. Please, just forget I said anything."

Vaughn's ticking jaw and furrowed brow were the only outward signs the man felt something besides boredom. "I'm afraid I won't be able to forget it, Calamity. Knowing that makes me glad I acted so impulsively that day at the café." My throat went dry and the air in the room grew thick and humid all of a sudden. "And you should know, I don't act impulsively. Ever."

Uh-oh. I did not want to like this guy.

Just like that, his big dick energy returned and he didn't look so ridiculous in that little chair any longer.

"That's the second time you've called me that." His head canted to the side in confusion. "Calamity," I explained. "Gotta say, city slicker, I'm not sure if I should be flattered to rate high enough that you'd bestow a nickname on me, or insulted at the meaning behind it."

"Don't be insulted." Those words came out as an order in that gruff voice of his, sending sparks of electricity through most of my body's erogenous zones. What the hell was that all about? I shook off the odd, unexpected attraction suddenly trying to stir at my insides, stomping it out like I would a spider that crossed my path.

I wasn't sure how to feel or respond, so I decided to go with my default setting: snarky. "You can't order me to not be insulted."

Challenge sparkled in those eyes of his, lighting a fire deep in my belly. "I can when the name isn't meant to be an insult. And I'm pretty sure you already knew that."

I sat back in my chair, staring across at him inquisitively and, dare I say, with more interest than I should feel toward the brother of my enemy. "I had a feeling, but you know what they say when you assume."

"It makes you an asshole."

I let out a bubble of astonished laughter at his unexpected joke. If you had asked me a week ago if this man had a sense of humor, I would have bet money the answer was no. But I saw it right then, and I actually appreciated the dry, detached way in which he delivered it more than if he'd added a smile or a laugh of his own to the end of it.

"I'm starting to think there's more to the man beneath those stuffy suits than I originally thought. I think you may actually be full of surprises, Vaughn."

He sat back in that man-splay that I always found sexy. You know what I'm talking about. The one where the guy spreads his legs wide while propping an elbow on the arm of his chair and cradling his chin in an almost lazy fashion. It screamed confidence and sex. And it shouldn't have worked for a guy sitting in a teeny velvet girly chair, but damn, it did.

"Ready for another one?"

I actually wasn't sure, but I felt the need to at least fake the same level of confidence this guy was exuding, so I pasted a bored expression on my face and waved my hand as if to say out with it already. I am a very important person, I don't have all day.

"I think we should keep up the ruse we started back in that café."

I choked on my own saliva. So much for playing it cool. "You what?"

"Remember what you said to me after I told Beelzebub we were together? You said I didn't have a clue what I'd just done. By your cryptic warning and the fact my father has already asked about you, I take it word is already spreading all over town."

I stifled a laugh by biting the inside of my lip. "First of all, his name is Barrett, but I'm sure you already knew that." He waved me off dismissively. "And second... Yep. That particular bit of gossip spread faster than the Black Plague. I already got the obligatory guilt call from my mother who demanded I bring you to dinner. I've decided to handle the situation like any responsible adult would."

He lifted one dark, sculpted brow. "By burying your head in the sand and pretending it didn't happen?"

"You know, for a fake boyfriend, you're surprisingly astute."

"See? I already know you better than Beany Baby ever did. So what do you say?"

I rocked back and forth in my chair as the two of us watched each other in silence, the atmosphere swirling around us getting thicker with a kind of tension I couldn't bring myself to put a name to but that left my skin tingling all the same.

Something told me saying yes to this man was akin to making a deal with the devil, but the intrigue was too great to ignore. I felt like a kid who had to reach out and touch the burner on the stove to see for myself if it was hot, despite my mother's warnings. "I say... okay. Let's do this."

He unfolded himself from that ridiculous chair, stretching to his full height, which had to be a few inches over six feet. As I followed suit and stood up, I couldn't help but notice that the top of my head would barely reach his chin. Given that I was five seven and was rocking high heels, that was impressive as hell.

I rounded the desk and moved to the door. I twisted the knob and pulled it open, sucking in a lungful of fresh, unelectrified air.

His eyes locked with mine as he met me in the open doorway, stopping right in front of me. He stood so close his knuckles brushed against the front of my blouse as he buttoned his jacket, sending a zing through my blood. I pulled in a broken breath as I tipped my head back to look into those intoxicating eyes.

He was all I could see, all I could smell. The heat from his skin was wrapping me up like a warm blanket. "So when do you want to get started?"

"Uh . . . what?"

He did that barely-there smirk again, and damn if it wasn't sexy as hell. "We should probably meet up somewhere private to go over our stories, right? I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but you have a terrible poker face."

Indignation pinched my face into a scowl. "I have an excellent poker face, thank you very much." Just as soon as the sentence came out of my mouth, I jolted back in shock when his fingers came up to caress my jawline.

"I rest my case," he said arrogantly. "No one is going to buy this if you flinch every time I touch you."

I couldn't stop my lips from forming a pout. "No fair. I wasn't prepared. If I'd known you were going to touch me, I wouldn't have flinched."

He arched a brow, communicating I'd proven his point without having to say a damn word.

"Fine." I huffed out a breath and rolled my eyes. "Dinner at my place tomorrow night." I moved to my desk and scrawled my address and cell number onto a bright pink sticky note. Tearing it off, I passed it to him, an electric current traveling up my arm at the brush of his fingers against mine when he took the slip of paper from me.

"See you tomorrow, Calamity. Try not to spill coffee on any poor, unexpecting men in the meantime."

I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked. "I make no promises. Hey, Vaughn?" I called when he turned to leave, bringing him up short. "What are the odds of your father showing up here in the next few days?"

The flare of his nostrils was answer enough. Still, he said, "Too high, but I'll do what I can to prevent it."

Something tugged at my chest, not only for Vaughn, but for his sick father as well. A man who only wanted to give his daughter her heart's desire.

"We'll do the wedding."

The infinitesimal widening of his eyes was his only giveaway. "You don't have to?—"

"For your father. To spare him the grief." And for Vaughn, who was stuck in the middle. But something told me he wouldn't appreciate hearing that, so I left it unspoken.

He arched that sexy brow again. "You're sure?"

I waved him off and blew out a raspberry. "Please. I'm a professional, thank you very much. I've totally got this." I lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. "And if I don't, they'll never be able to point the sabotage back at me."

I could see the humor in his gaze. "Tomorrow, Jolie."

"Tomorrow, City Slicker. And don't forget to apologize to Becca on your way out."

I closed the door on his unhappy growl, waiting until I heard his footsteps leading away before I started laughing.