“Don’t overthink it, Grace. Just let it happen.”

I walk over to the window, not the one framing the cat, and look out. This is the old neighbor’s side of the building and he has a view. I have a view. And it’s a cool one. Looking straight down onto Wazee. A mall bus rumbles down 16th Street and it begins to sink in.

Vaughn Asher built me a dream house in five days. Four, really, if you don’t count today.

I turn back to him and smile. “I really… I have no words, Vaughn. Only thank you, but it seems so inadequate.”

He simply shrugs and smiles. “Does it make you happy?”

I nod. “It does. But—”

“But? Oh, please don’t be one of those women who can’t accept a gift, Grace. Don’t.”

“No, that’s not what I was going to say. Never mind. I love it.” I walk towards him and he opens his arms and wraps them around me.

“Shall we christen the new bed?”

“Do you have time before your meeting in LA?”

“Sweets, there is always time for pussy.”

Chapter Fifteen

#JustWhatTheFuck

VAUGHN GRABS me by the waist and jerks my hips forward until I slam against the hardness beneath his jeans. “I’d rather you stayed with me in LA, but I get it. I have to share you with your friends and family here. By the way,” he says, cocking his head a little. “You’ve met mine, so when do I get to meet yours?”

His question catches me off guard and I find myself holding my breath. I don’t have a good answer.

“Grace?”

“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head a little. “I just…” I look up at his movie-star face. His perfectly chiseled jawline. His deep blue eyes. His hair is a little bit messy, just the way I like it. His smile is still large and genuine, but as the seconds tick off, it falters.

“Grace?”

“I just… I’ve never brought a man to meet my…” I shrug my shoulders a little. “I don’t bring people to meet Mr. and Mrs. Chambers. I mean, I never have.”

“You call your parents Mr. and Mrs. Chambers?”

I duck my head so I don’t have to meet his gaze. “I just never knew what to call them. I called Bebe’s mom Marjorie when she was my lawyer, but then…” Shit, why is this so hard?

“But then… you couldn’t bring yourself to call them Mom and Dad once they adopted you?”

I nod.

“Felicity calls me Vaughn. Or V. I’m not her dad. But sometimes I feel like her dad.”

I look back up at him and even though the smile is gone, he still looks… OK. Happy. “I don’t call them Mr. and Mrs. Chambers to their face, obviously. Or in front of Bebe. I do call them Mom and Dad. To make them feel good. But it’s never felt right for me. It feels fake. It’s dishonest to tell strangers that they are my parents. They aren’t. They didn’t raise me, Vaughn. They saved me, yes. But they didn’t raise me.”

“Felicity said the same thing. She was not born to worthless people. She just… didn’t win the family lottery like I did. That’s what she told me when we discussed what she wanted to call me. Of course, I never expected her to call me her father. She just wanted me to know where she was coming from before I took financial responsibility for her.”

I like hearing about Felicity. It makes Vaughn so much more real. And he’s probably one of the few people I’ve met who might understand my feelings.

“Hey, wanna watch TV? Look at this baby.” Vaughn points to the sixty-inch flatscreen on the wall. He leads me over to the new couch. It’s light gray leather with pink pillows. Much nicer than the one I got from the thrift store that is nowhere to be found. Whoever did the design in here must have deduced correctly that it was trash, not treasure.

I sit down and the buttery leather almost makes me moan. “Don’t you have to get back?”

“Sure, but the plane doesn’t leave until I get there.”

We kick our feet up on the coffee table and he pulls me into his chest as he flips the TV on. “ESPN or ESPN?” he asks.

I laugh. God, how weird to have a man in my house.

Shit, how weird to have this house.

“I’ll take ESPN, thanks.”

“Thought so. Now if I can find the damn channel. I think it’s one forty-five.” He flips through the channels, hunting for sports talk, and my face flies by.

“Go back. I saw me.”

“Noooo. That’s a bad idea, Kinsella. You learn to ignore that shit quick. Just pay no attention to it or it will drive you wild.” He finds the sports channel and sets the remote down on his leg.

“But it said something about a wedding. It must be about Kristi and I want to see what she’s saying.”

“But it’s football stuff, sweets,” he says, pointing to the TV.

I grab the remote and start flipping channels. “It’ll take like two minutes.”

Kristi’s face appears, smiling and happy. The camera pans down to her obvious baby bump.

“No questions,” she says, placing a hand over the camera. But it’s in a good-natured way. She’s not running anymore, she’s content. Johnny Blazen steps forward, the media darling personality taking over.

“He didn’t tell me anything. I barely know the guy. Vaughn Asher was only interested in one thing when we were together last week, and that was making sure Grace was safe.”

“Hey, he’s talking about you.” I look over at Vaughn and he’s gone white. “What’s going on?”

The reporter in the TV redirects my attention. Vaughn is reaching for the remote in my hands, but I jerk it away as I read the crawl at the bottom of the screen.

Vaughn Asher marries Daisy Bryndle in a three AM ceremony in Las Vegas last Thursday.

“What the hell?” I look over at Vaughn and he’s staring at me.

His mouth is a tight line, his eyes pleading with me. “Just… change the channel and we can talk.”

“What? Why are they saying we’re married?”

Silence. Just more staring.

I bite my lip as I wait, but the seconds tick off and I can’t be patient. “Please, for the love of God, tell me they’re lying.”

He says nothing, but his head shakes out a no.

“Vaughn, this isn’t funny. There’s no way we got married that night. I was passed out drunk.”