I'm only two years older than him, so I smile, let the dig slide, and grab his ass so hard two handprints will greet him in the mirror tomorrow.
"Thank you for another wonderful evening," Vaughn says as I walk him and Mabel back to his boat along the golden-lit pier at the end of the night.
It's beautiful out. A sequined blanket of stars twinkle overhead, and the warm tropical breeze carries the scent of salt with a hint of frangipani.
"Working here, you've met all the liveaboards at the marina, haven't you?" I ask, glancing around at the boats swaying on the dark water, golden light spilling from within most of them.
"I have."
"Who's the weirdest person here?"
Vaughn stops and looks at me, a smile ghosting his lips. "That's easy. This dude from the Gold Coast. Lives in that audacious, oversized yacht at the end of the pier. Definitely overcompensating for something."
It's not the first time he's made that joke. I tug him into me. Well, himandMabel since she's slung across his chest. "Rest assured I am not overcompensating for anything."
"Guess I'll have to take your word for it…" His smile grows as he gives my chest a few taps with his knuckles. "For now."
13
Vaughn
For the first time since Evie was taken from us at the hands of that brute, Davi, I'm feeling something that almost feels close to happiness. And a lot of that has to do with a certain Clayton Palmer.
Scratch that.
All of ithas to do with him.
He's charming and funny and such an easy person to hang out with. Conversation flows naturally—from his end, at least—and it's obvious how much he adores Mabel. The two of us are a package deal now, so whoever I'm with needs to be cool with that, too.
Not that I'mwithClayton, but…maybe in the future?
That's something I haven't been thinking a lot about. When you're in survival mode, fleeing, petrified for your life, seeing beyond the next day, or even the next hour, is a luxury you can't afford.
I do wonder what Clayton must be making of all this. He's smart and emotionally astute, so I'm sure he can sense I'm holding something back.
And I am.
And I hate that I am because I'm developing feelings for the guy. Strong feelings that run deeper than just a physical attraction. Feelings I've never felt in my life.
"Hey, sunshine." Clayton sprays me with sand.
We're sitting under a beach cabana, he's got his long legs sprawled out with Mabel kicking happily between them. My heart warms at the sight of them together. I'd love to take a photo to remember this moment but figure it's not safe to. Just like I hardly leave the confines of the marina, either. This stretch of golden sand, tucked away beside the marina, is the limit of how far I'm prepared to venture.
Learned that lesson the hard way when I took Mabel with me on a remote hike. I got the shock of my life when I spotted Davi's men near the trail, and we almost paid for it with our lives. If it hadn't been for Clayton, I don't want to think where we'd both be right now.
More sand flies at me. "You helping or what?"
"I'm helping, I'm helping," I reply, pinching Clayton's calf with a grin before grabbing the spade and resuming work on the world's best sandcastle.
A few seconds pass.
"What were you thinking about?"
I spear the spade into the sand and look over at him. He's shirtless, wearing a ridiculous bucket hat he insisted wasn't ridiculous when I pointed out how ridiculous it was, but it's his eyes that captivate me. The one detail that seared into my memory the moment I dumped Mabel into the lap of a complete stranger. They're warm, curious, and filled with tenderness, a perfect reflection of his character.
"I was thinking about you, actually."
He rolls his eyes. "If it's about my bucket hat again, I'll have you know that?—"
