Page 3 of Dirty (Dive Bar 1)


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"You sure no one hit you?" He did not sound convinced.

"Yes. I lost my grip and hit the floor when I was climbing in the window. My home invasion skills need work."

"I'd suggest you try a different career." He finished with the buttons and took a step back, scratching his head. "You okay with the dress now?"

"Yes, thank you," I told his reflection in the mirror. "For everything, I mean."

"Sure." He almost smiled and gave a small shake of the head as if he couldn't quite believe what was going on. Or maybe it was disbelief that he wasn't kicking me straight back out the window through whence I'd come.

Lord knows, it'd shocked the shit out of me.

He turned toward the door. "See you out there."

CHAPTER THREE

Beneath the sodden wedding dress, things weren't so bad. My petticoats and corset were actually pretty dry. Or would be soon enough in the warm weather. I fixed up my panda eyes and wrapped my hair up in a towel, turban style. Nothing more could be done.

Time to venture out in search of the kitchen. It was easy enough to find with the tantalizing scent of coffee leading me on. The bungalow had roughly an L shape. Obviously at some stage it'd been remodeled and given a more modern layout.

It was nice, charming.

French doors opened out from the kitchen onto a back deck where several pots containing long-deceased plants sat. All of the light inside was hazy, care of the unwashed windows. Tiny flecks of dust floated about in the golden afternoon air.

Vaughan waited at the table, a cup of coffee in his hands and another opposite. He wore jeans and a wrinkled gray tee with some band on the front. Even slouched in a chair, he looked good. Different from Chris yet still immensely appealing. Vaughan was so slacker cool with his long, lean body and his hair falling in his eyes. Man, I hated people who could appear so effortlessly attractive. Me relaxed resembled an oily hair and sweatpants party for one.

"Hi." I raised a hand in greeting.

He'd been busy staring off into space, lost in thought. Now, however, he blinked repeatedly, slowly looking me over. Even though I'd seen him naked, being in front of him in my flouncy lingerie had me hesitating. So stupid. Much too late in the day for me to be getting embarrassed. On the plus side, the corset turned my extra flesh into a fabulous hourglass. Something Vaughan definitely seemed to notice. I wasn't seeking any sexy times. Though, some honest male appreciation for my womanly assets felt nice. Onward and upward and all that.

"I tried to clean up the bathroom a little," I said, pulling out a seat. "Hung my dress up to dry."

"Okay."

"Thanks for the coffee."

"No worries," he said in a gruff voice. "Hope you take it black. I haven't been here for a while so there's no sugar or creamer."

"Black's fine." I took a cautious sip of the brew. Ah, coffee. My one true friend (beside vodka). There must have been some beans hiding in the freezer, because it wasn't half bad. I'd have suffered through a cup of crappy instant; it was nice not to have to, however. Small pleasures mattered. "That tastes amazing."

A grunt.

With caffeine pumping through me, I started to feel more myself. Less Miss Havisham sitting in her tattered dress and more modern capable woman. I shook off the shit, sat up a little straighter.

"Vaughan, I really am sorry about all of this, dumping my problems on you."

"I know." He didn't meet my eyes due to still noticing my assets. Maybe he'd zoned out, what with being so tired, and that just happened to be in the vicinity where he'd been looking when it happened.

"It bears repeating. You've been great about it, really."

Another grunt.

Had to admit, curiosity filled me about this man. Wonder what he was like when he wasn't sleep deprived and dealing with a trespassing runaway bride. Was he the sort of person who smiled a little or a lot? I couldn't tell. For someone who made her living reading people and talking them into buying big houses, today I officially knew shit.

"You didn't even get to have your shower," I said.

A one-shoulder shrug. "Later."

"I promise after I finish this coffee, I'll get out of your way."

"No rush." Still no eye contact.

I shifted in my seat.

He really was appealing in his way. His lips were neither thick nor thin. Just nice. It would be good to see them curved in a smile. To know I hadn't entirely trashed his day with my drama.

"This really is a lovely house," I said. "You don't spend much time here?"

"No."

"Shame."

Maybe he'd been all talked out and didn't want a conversation. Fine by me. But I don't think that's what was going on. He'd zoned out, all right. I highly doubt it was due to tiredness, however.

I cocked my head, studying him. "Vaughan?"

"Yeah?"

"Nice weather we're having, isn't it?"

"Great."

"It is. It's so great," I enthused. "Love the weather."

Handsome face blank of expression, his fingers remained curled unmoving around his half-full cup of coffee. If it wasn't for his monosyllable responses and the whole chest moving with each breath thing, I'd have wondered if the man had croaked. And it wasn't my makeup-smeared face or crazily knotted hair he was gawking at. In fact, I don't believe he ever got that far.

Seemed my would-have-been-neighbor was a tit man.

I have to admit my Elomi bridal lingerie was exquisite. I'd been so certain it would wow Chris, spur him into some post-matrimonial lustfulness. What a joke. A strap-on might have been a better idea.

"I just wanted to say thanks again for being so understanding about all this," I said.

"Sure," he told my boobs.

"You've been great."

"Mm."

"Other people wouldn't have been so understanding."

"Assholes," he said, lips pressed tight in disapproval. I'm sure my breasts appreciated his support immensely.

I drank my coffee, waiting for him to get bored of them. And then I waited some more. Wasn't happening. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, the only sound in the room. While I couldn't claim innocence regarding his groin, at least I hadn't gawked at him to this degree. I'd been discreet(ish).

"Vaughan?"

Nostrils flared on a deep breath. "Huh?"

"You're staring."

"What?"

"My breasts." I waved a hand around the pertinent parts of my anatomy. Though I'm reasonably certain he already knew where they were. "These things, Vaughan. The baby feeders and pillows of sin. You're staring at them."

His startled gaze jumped to my face.

"I wouldn't mention it, but it's been a while now and I'm beginning to get a little uncomfortable."

"Shit," he muttered, as realization hit. He turned his face away.

"Don't get me wrong. Since you're probably the only one who'll ever see me

in this, it's kind of nice to see some appreciation. But yeah, getting awkward."

"Sorry, Lydia."

"It's okay." I tried to hold back a smile. Tried.

Brows drawn down, he concentrated good and hard on drinking his coffee. "Didn't realize I was doing that."

"It's fine. You like boobs. I get it," I said, inspecting the girls. "They are kind of out there in this corset."

"Yeah."

"And to be fair, I did see you in all your glory not so long ago."

He snorted out a laugh. No idea how he made it sound attractive, but he did. Then his lips curved into a small droll smile. And that smile? It was lovely.

Wonder how things were going over the fence for Chris & Co.? Not that I cared. A fiery gateway to hell could open up beneath their garden party and I wouldn't have helped a single one of them. Guess I'd entered the bitter and twisted stage of mourning my relationship. Sure as hell I was done with denial.

"You were going to tell me about your wedding disaster," Vaughan prompted.

"Right." I folded my arms over my chest. A purely defensive, batten-down-the-hatches kind of move. All it did, though, was plump up my boobs. Immediately, Vaughan's gaze was there, making me shift in the chair uncomfortably. "You wouldn't happen to have a shirt I could borrow, would--"

"No."

"No?"

He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"You only have one shirt?"

"Yeah, ah ... see, the airline lost my luggage."

"I thought you said you'd been driving all night."

"Right, right. Flew then drove. Decided to hit the road in Portland, catch all that scenery."

"At night?"

"Yeah." He turned away, scratching at the golden-red stubble on his chin. "All the stars and shit. It was real pretty."

Huh. Okay. Probably no point asking about towels. The only ones I'd seen were now hanging up wet in the bathroom. To steal the sheet off his bed and make a toga out of it might be going too far. No problem, I could brazen it out. Obviously my host had no issues with letting it all hang out physically. Though he'd been hewn from stone, while I was more marshmallow. Chris had liked to call me his "dumpling." He'd made it sound sweet, but it'd niggled none the less.

How much exactly had I ignored or excused? Good question. I bit at my thumbnail, folding in on myself. No. Enough. I would not allow him and his set to continue undermining my self-confidence. The video had woken me up. No more excuses.

"I believe my fiance is gay and has been using me as a beard," I announced, chin held high. "That's basically the whole story."

Vaughan's eyes widened. "Shit."

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