Page 73 of Dirty Boss

“You make me feel safe,” I whispered. “That’s why I changed my mind.”

Vaughn’s gaze slid up to meet mine. He shifted so he was holding himself on his elbow, then used his free hand to stroke the side of my head, his thumb tracing my eyebrow. He exhaled slowly, his eyes soft.

I felt raw and open, like I’d said too much. But it was the truth—I was safe here, with him. His gaze was steady as he watched me, his features intent. He opened his mouth and for a moment, nothing came out.

Then he replied, “You can change it back anytime.”

My heart did a cartwheel. Even now, when I’d given him what he wanted and promised to go to Arlo Noble’s event with him, he was giving me an out. Making sure I felt safe. Taking care of me.

I wanted to tell him I was falling in love with him—because wasn’t that what this was? This fizzy, too-big-for-my-chest feeling that made me want to smile and sigh and cry all at once? I wanted to say it out loud, to put a name to this ball of emotion that made me feel like I would explode.

But the last time I told a guy I loved him, it blew up in my face. Vaughn wasn’t James—I knew that. Still, I was afraid.

So instead, I lifted my head, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and kissed him. Vaughn groaned against my mouth, settling his body on top of mine so I could feel all the weight and warmth of him. I sighed, happy.

I’d go to the gala with him. I’d go anywhere with him.

As the reality of the situation sank in, my eyes snapped open.

I needed a dress.

TWENTY-FIVE

VAUGHN

My ex-wife openedher front door, looked at me, and called out Charlotte’s name. Then she turned to me and gave me one of those tight, cordial smiles I’d become accustomed to. “Hi, Vaughn.”

“How was it?” I asked, as usual, referring to her two weeks with our kid.

“Great,” Tiffany replied, then turned at the pitter-patter of little feet sprinting down the hallway toward her. Our conversations were always stilted now, but that came with the territory. The only thing keeping us together was the love we shared for the little girl currently barreling toward me.

“Daddy!”

I knelt and spread my arms, bracing myself for the collision. Charlotte launched herself at me. I caught her, stood, and spun, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and feeling all the tension in me drain away. Her hair was a wild mess, half of it sticky with some mystery substance, but her eyes were alight and her smile was wide as she pulled back to plant a kiss on my cheek.

“How you doin’, turkey?”

“I’m so good. Mom and Dale and me went out to dinner last night!”

“Ooh,” I said, hiking her up onto my hip. She was getting heavy to be held like this, but I was reluctant to let go of these moments. “What’d you have?”

“I had a piece of pizza as big as myhead.” She placed her hands on either side of her head to demonstrate.

I laughed, even though my thoughts flicked back to my last dinner date with Alba. We’d eaten oversized pizza slices too. Which reminded me—I had to have a chat with my ex-wife.

“Go grab your stuff,” I said, “I want to talk to your mom.”

“Okay!” Charlotte took off, and Tiffany leaned against the doorjamb, arching her brows. I didn’t take offense to her not inviting me in; our coparenting relationship relied on these sorts of boundaries.

“I saw your company in the news. Midtown job still stuck in the ground?”

Sighing, I shrugged. “We’ll get there.”

“I can keep Charlotte longer if you need to be at work.”

“No,” I replied. “That’s not necessary.” I was only getting one week with her this time; I wouldn’t give up both.

“She seems to spend an awful lot of time with that nanny of yours, and not so much time with you.”