Chapter 18

The silence that had enveloped the cab of my G-Wagon the whole way to dinner was thick and muggy, making it difficult to breathe. I knew I was to blame for the discomfort surrounding us, but I couldn't seem to get my mind to stop spinning long enough to engage in something as fucking simple as small talk. It was ridiculous. I felt every time Jolie's gaze drifted my way, the apprehension swirling around the atmosphere. I knew I should try to put her at ease, but I couldn't manage to speak past the sandpaper suddenly coating my tongue.

I hadn't been able to stop replaying Jolie's words in my head since we left my house.

I want you to be comfortable, that's all that matters.

I couldn't stop hearing them. She'd said it so easily, without a moment's thought. As if that type of kindness was an instinct. Something she did every day. And knowing her, it was. It was nothing for her to give me something like that. But to me it was everything. And I was struggling to process the storm swirling around inside me.

I couldn't remember the last time someone had put my own comfort first. My mother certainly hadn't. In fact, she'd spent most of my upbringing forcing me into a mold she deemed appropriate. The few women I dated all wanted me to be different. Less rigid, more fun. I was so used to them trying to change me and shape me into a version of myself that they preferred over the one I had shown them, that I'd decided a long time ago romantic relationships weren't worth the time and headspace required to make them function.

Jolie had never once made me feel like she wished I was different. Sure, she called me on my shit, and rightfully so, but unlike the women from my past, she actually understood my sense of humor—as minimal and dry as it might have been. Not only that, but she seemed to enjoy it. She was the type of woman who didn't hold back. She gave as good as she got. Hell, in most cases, she gave even better.

I located a spot on the street outside The Drunken Moose and moved through the process of parallel parking on autopilot.

I shifted into Park and hit the button to kill the engine, but before I could open my door, Jolie's hand extended across the console, her fingers wrapping around my forearm to stop me. "Hey," she said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I clipped, giving her a curt nod. "Wait there. I'll get your door." I used the few moments it took for me to round the hood of my car to focus on my breathing and attempt to return my heart rate to a normal pace. Not that it did me any damn good. The instant I yanked her door open, that sweet citrus scent of hers smacked me in the face. It was like being hit with a beam of sunshine even though the sky was painted with the darkening colors of twilight.

"Hold on just a second." Instead of climbing out, she held firm in her seat, her eyes drilling into the side of my head. "Vaughn, look at me." I blinked, willing my mask of indifference back into place when I finally lifted my gaze to hers. "We don't have to do this," she said, taking me by surprise. "I know you aren't big on people, and that's totally fine with me. If this is uncomfortable for you we can just leave." The air squeezed out of my lungs like a wet towel being wrung out. How the hell was it possible that this woman I had only just met knew me better than anyone else in my life? Christ, she couldn't possibly be real.

"Honestly. I'm not all that hungry," she insisted, and I very well might have believed her if her stomach hadn't chosen that very moment to let out a growl loud enough to call her a liar.

Something shifted inside my chest. A chunk of that ice that had been encased around my heart for years broke off, leaving a gaping hole wide enough for those inconvenient, bothersome emotions I'd cut off long ago to creep in.

"Can I touch you?" The question fell out of my mouth fast, the desperation mixed into those words impossible to mask.

Jolie's chin jerked back in bewilderment at my question. "What?"

The desire to feel her beneath my hands was growing more intense by the second until it was basically all I could think about.

I did my best to temper the storm building inside me, spinning around like a tornado before I spoke again, but I knew it didn't do any good. "Can I touch you?" I repeated past the sand storm in my throat.

God, please say yes, I pleaded silently with whatever higher power was listening.

"For... appearances. People will expect it, right? I just... wanted to ask if it was all right. To touch you, you know, how I would if we were really dating." The bullshit excuse of putting on a show left a sour, rancid taste in my mouth, like I'd just eaten bad sushi.

I didn't date. Though, even if I did, I had never been a fan of public displays. That was one of the many complaints from the women in my past. But none of that mattered when it came to Jolie. I was becoming less and less rational the longer I spent in her company. I didn't feel like myself. Or... maybe this was who I was supposed to be all along and I hadn't realized it until now. I wasn't sure. That uncertainty was enough to knock me off balance, but for some reason, being near Jolie helped to center me. She was something I could hold tight to in order to stay afloat.

I thought I saw a flash of disappointment in her stormy eyes, but it disappeared in a blink, there and gone so fast I had to have been imagining it. "O-okay. Yeah. Um, sure." She blinked, her gaze bouncing from the hand I extended her way to my eyes. "You can touch me." Her voice came out softly, almost a whisper, and the sound of those words spoken in her sweet, melodic voice made my dick twitch before growing thick.

She rested her hand gently in mine, the delicate size and softness of her palm a contrast to my own. A static charge lit up beneath my skin, making my heart slam against my ribs so hard I was surprised Jolie couldn't hear it pounding away.

I could feel my pulse in my temples as I slowly worked my fingers through hers, interlacing them together. When I lifted my head, shifting my focus back on her, Jolie was looking dazedly at our connected hands. My fingers tensed around hers, drawing her attention back to me. "Is this okay?"

I waited with bated breath for her to answer; I didn't want to let go. In fact, I wanted even more. I wanted to pull her against me, throw my arm over her shoulder and hold her tight to see if she fit against me as perfectly as her hand fit in mine. It was an inclination I'd never experienced before. I usually thrived on being alone. I preferred distance from most people.

But the better I got to know Jolie, the closer I wanted to keep her. To the point I was starting to worry what I was going to do when the time finally came for me to leave.

Jolie

I wasn'tsure what had changed in the time we left Vaughn's house to now, but something had caused the man to get so lost in his own head I wasn't sure he was aware I was right there beside him. His frown was deeper, his lips were pulled into a thin pinched line. The skin around his eyes had tightened with his pensive expression.

I thought that maybe the man I'd gotten to know since that dinner at my house was finally coming back to me when he'd asked if he could touch me, but as we walked hand and hand toward the restaurant, I could feel him retreating again. That wouldn't do.

We were only feet from the entrance of The Drunken Moose when I dug my heels in and refused to take another step, yanking on his arm to get him to turn around and face me.

That furrow between his brow deepened even more when he turned to look back at me. "Jolie? Everything okay?"

I didn't know whether or not what I was about to do was the right thing, but I was following my gut. Vaughn Cavanagh wasn't exactly the easiest man to know, but I felt like I was getting there. Slowly, sure, but getting there all the same.

"No. It's not okay."

His hand was still locked firmly with mine, our fingers tangled together in a way that felt almost... intimate. He took two steps back toward me, closing the distance between us, his eyes glittering with concern. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Do you need?—"

"You're insufferable," I blurted.

He rocked back on his heel, his chin jerking back and his eyes widening in surprise at my outburst. "What?"

"You heard me," I said, all bravado and bluster. As I took in his bewilderment, I couldn't help but question what I was doing. Jeez, why the hell was my heart suddenly beating so fast? But it was too late to turn back now. "You're insufferable. And you can be kind of bossy. You know that? And—" I struggled to think up another insult. If this had been a week ago, I would have thrown his grumpiness in his face, maybe the cold exterior he wore for everyone else, but I knew better now. My mind raced but I couldn't come up with a single negative. The more time I spent with Vaughn, I discovered the more there was to like about him, so I made something up on the fly. "You're too tall."

"I'm . . . too tall?"

I lifted my chin haughtily. "That's right. You're too damn tall. I get a crick in my neck having to tip my head back to look at you." I was full of shit, of course. I actually loved that he was so much taller than I was. "Now you do me."

He shook his head in confusion. "What?—"

"This is us, Vaughn. I tell you that you're an insufferable jerk, and you tell me I'm a smartass who has a psychotic cat. You call me Calamity and I call you City Slicker." I waved my hand back and forth in the space between us. "We give each other shit. That's our thing. We don't get all awkward and quiet with each other; we argue because we're both hard-headed and because we're damn good at it. And I don't think I'm out of line when I say I think we both kind of enjoy it. I'm willing to bet I'm the first person in a long time to give you a run for your money."

The vise that had been squeezing tighter and tighter around my chest released when his expression cleared and the corner of his mouth trembled with one of his suppressed grins. Every time I saw that tremor the determination I felt to finally pull a real smile from him grew. I'd get him one day, damn it! I was determined.

"You are a smartass," he finally said a few seconds later, and as crazy as it was, hearing him say those words made my lips curl into a cheek-splitting smile. Because it meant he was back. "Your cat is a menace and you're a danger to anyone in a thirty-foot radius who might be holding a cup of coffee."

I let out a giggle. "Not anyone. Just you. I'm pretty sure I'm only a vessel for karma. It's a role I take very seriously."

He rolled his eyes, nearly causing my knees to buckle at the outward show of emotion. As badly as I wanted to mention it, I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to risk that wall of his slamming back up when it appeared I had finally gotten him to start lowering it.

"Come on, Calamity. Let's get you fed before that monster in your stomach tries to bust free."

With giddiness fizzing in my belly like a shaken bottle of champagne, I let Vaughn lead me by the hand into the restaurant, so focused on how nice it felt to have his fingers wrapped around mine that I didn't even notice everyone staring.