Wardrobe Malfunction(57)

“Fine. I heard Natasha ask if you wanted to invite me, and you didn’t answer. You didn’t say anything.” I stare at the carpet beneath my feet. “And I know I’m not getting paid for doing Sasha’s dress because I don’t want to get paid,” I quickly add. “But, even still, I don’t want to go to your family’s home, feeling like the hired help.” And I don’t want you to take me when you really don’t want to.

“Jesus, Charly.” He grabs my face and turns my eyes to him. The look in his is fierce and determined. “I want you there.”

“No, you don’t. I heard you, Mr. I Don’t Take Women Home.” I mimic his voice. “And that’s fine, Vaughn, but just don’t make out that this is something it’s not. You don’t want to take me home as the girl you’re dating; it’s fine. And, like you said, we’re still in the closet, so it makes sense anyway.”

“First off,” he growls, “I’m glad you finally said we’re dating because that’s exactly what we are doing. And there are no worries about taking you home to my family as my girl.”

His girl.

It’s stupid how crazy my heart goes at that.

“My family knows better than anyone how my life is. They don’t talk about my private life or me—ever. And not just my family, but also the people in the town I grew up in Oregon. Keno is a small town and a safe place for me. My family has lived there for generations. After I got famous and my status started to rise, the press began turning up in town, trying to get dirt on me. The townsfolk quickly made them aware that they weren’t welcome there. And, yeah, the press knows I’m from Keno, but they don’t know I still live there now. Not many people do.”

But I do, and he trusts me with that information. I feel a confliction of happiness and shame because he doesn’t know everything about me.

“My house is well hidden. Exactly how I want it. And second”—he ticks off his finger—“I want you there as my date for the wedding. I want my family to meet you—”

“But—”

“Let me finish, Charly.” He presses his fingers to my lips, silencing me.

“Yes, I didn’t say anything in answer to what Natasha said because I hadn’t thought about it. I’m a guy. I’m slow, and I don’t consider these things. It’s not out of malice. And then my mom called about the wedding dress, and that took over. But I have thought about it…taking you home. I’ve thought a lot about it, and I do want to take you to meet my family. And I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now, but I’m a chickenshit. It seems like a big deal, asking you to come to my sister’s wedding with me and meet my whole family. I was worried that I might scare you away.”

He wants me there. He didn’t want to scare me away.

He wants me there.

My heart has fluttered out of my chest and straight into the palm of his hand. And I’m not sure if it’s ever coming back. Or if I want it back.

“You could never scare me away,” I whisper, toying with the hem of my top.

“What if I told you I wanted to spank you with a paddle?”

My eyes flick to his, and I see the playful look in them.

“Okay. So, maybe you can scare me away.” I grin.

He chuckles and then tugs me back down to the bed. This time, I go with him, and we’re back to lying face-to-face.

“So, will you be my date to the wedding?” He brushes my hair back off my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. “I really want you to be there.”

Then, it stupidly dawns on me that, after all the fuss I just made, I can’t go anyway.

“I want to go.” I grimace. “But I’m scheduled to work those three days.”

“But I won’t be here.” He frowns, like he expected I wouldn’t have to work if he wasn’t.

“I do dress other actors aside from you, superstar.”

“Yeah, well, I’m changing that,” he says, still wearing the frown. “I don’t want you accidentally pinning anyone else’s balls.”

“Asshole.” I slap his chest.

He catches my hand, kissing it. “Another of the many things you adore about me. And don’t worry about getting the time off work. I’ll sort it out.”

“You will? Well, okay,” I say, “if you really want me there—”

“I really want you there,” he says softly, his eyes caressing my face, making my insides gooey.

“Then, yes, I would love to go.”

“Good.” He smiles.

Then, he kisses me with that smile, and I let myself absorb that happiness, making it mine, too.