Carly Phillips - Hot Stuff

"What's the breed called so I can look into one myself?" Uncle Yank asked.

"It's a Labradoodle," Sophie supplied with a smile. She often got so caught up in her explanations that she forgot the important things going on around her. Like the fact that they didn't want to encourage their uncle's behavior.

This time Annabelle leaned backward, so she could hit her head against the wall in complete frustration. Because despite the utter family chaos surrounding her, one important question floated in her brain.

If Vaughn were here, what would he do in order to get through to Uncle Yank? It seemed no matter how hard she tried, all roads led back to Vaughn. Too bad those roads seemed to be Ml of potholes, including the fact that he hadn't called her. And she didn't know if he ever would.

EVERYTHING WAS frigging perfect, Vaughn thought. So perfect that the construction and reconstruction crews didn't need him to oversee every small step anymore. In the one short week since Roy's arrest, everything that had been failing before fell into place now.

Laura had called to thank him for helping to bail her out of the financial mess she'd gotten herself into. She wasn't even upset that the police had grilled her and looked into her business. She was just grateful everything was over now. She even accepted his criticism on how she'd screwed up the bars and his advice on how to whip them back into shape. You 're smarter than I gave you credit for, Brandon, she'd told him. Unbelievable.

Then there was Todd. The kid was devastated about his father's involvement in the lodge's problems and even more messed up now that the man was being evaluated by a psychiatrist and would probably do time either in a hospital or jail. Vaughn had made it his mission to see that Todd remained on track both for football and his last year of high school. After all, that's what had motivated Roy, no matter how misguided he'd been.

But with everything running smoothly now, Vaughn could actually afford to take time for himself. And what did he normally do when he had free time? He picked up the phone and dialed Nick's cell.

The phone rang and rang and just as he was about to hang up, Nick's voice came on the line. "What the hell do you want, Vaughn? And it better be important."

"Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Uh, you could say that."

Vaughn heard giggling in the background and Mara's distinctive whisper to Nick.

"I don't suppose you want to go get a beer?" Vaughn asked, feeling like an ass and an unwanted third party at the same time.

"Give me the phone," Mara said in the background.

What sounded like a wrestling session followed as Nick and Mara struggled for control of the receiver.

"Vaughn?"

"Hey, Mara. I guess we know who's gonna wear the pants in the family."

"Ha, ha, ha. Now shut up and listen. How are you?" she asked.

He scowled. "I'm fine."

"Oh, really? Is that why you're calling Nick to go for a beer at seven o'clock on a work night?"

"What the hell's wrong with that? We always go for a beer after work."

"That was before Nick had me in his life. What, or should I ask who, exactly do you have in your life, Vaughn?"

For the love of- "Put Nick back on the phone."

"I can't. He's busy." She giggled and whispered something that sounded like "Cut that out."

"I get the point, Mara. Nick's whipped now. No more boys' nights out." Vaughn paced his small kitchen.

"I'll ignore that. I'm serious. You've got your lodge and your volunteer work and the kids you help practice on the side, but what's your personal life consist of?"

Before he could answer, Mara kept right on going. "In other words have you spoken with Annabelle?" she asked, getting to the crux of things.

"Way to tread lightly," Nick called out in the background.

"Well have you?" Mara asked Vaughn.

"No," he grumbled, more irritable now that she'd pointed out his life's shortcomings.

Mara groaned. "You're an idiot, Vaughn. And if you aren't careful and you don't do something soon, you're going to end up alone."

Vaughn let out a hard exhale. "Jeez, thanks for being a friend."

"I am your friend and you know it. I love you and I don't want to see you screw up the best thing to happen to you. She's special, Vaughn."

He raised his gaze to the ceiling. "Now you sound like my mother," he muttered.

"You've been talking to your mother?" Mara asked sounding stunned. "Nick, Vaughn's been talking to his mother!"

"Don't go hiring a skywriter to announce it or anything."

"That's a fantastic idea!" Mara's voice rose in excitement.

"Hey. Don't get carried away."

"Both of you listen. We should hire one of those airplanes with a banner to advertise the lodge! I'll put it on my list of things to do."

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Since you two are busy, I'm gonna let you go."

"Promise to think about one thing for me. If you're talking with your mother, you've made strides you don't even realize. And remember, you're just as special as Annabelle is," Mara said.

An awkward silence followed.

"So don't let her get away," Mara said before. Vaughn heard the click ending their connection.

And leaving him alone.

So alone, he climbed into his truck and took a ride to the football field where it had all started. His career. His life. It was the place he'd first found something he excelled at and where he felt worthwhile.

During and after a game, the cheers of the crowd had always sustained him, but never enough to compensate for the fact that his parents weren't in the stands. He thought he'd come to terms with that. Just as he thought he'd come to terms with misjudging Laura and how she'd belittled his abilities. But had he come to terms or was he still running away?

He couldn't believe the way he'd come full circle. He'd made peace with everyone from Yank to Laura, and had even made strides with his parents. He'd suffered through an awkward family dinner, one where everyone had discussed what was going on in their lives and actually acted interested in each other's answers. Both his mother and father had proclaimed to accept the lodge as Vaughn's dream for the future.

A dream, he realized, that wouldn't mean a damn thing to him if he had to live it alone. Without Annabelle.

Yet to bring her into his life, he had to know he believed in himself. That he had come to terms with everything. Which meant an end to the running. Running from both the boy he'd been and the man he'd become.

He parked his truck and walked to the field which was as empty as his house felt with Annabelle and her pets gone. As he stared over the vast landscape, he couldn't help but take Mara's words to heart.

Was he just as special as Annabelle? Worthy of her love and spirit and generosity? He didn't know if he'd ever completely believe in himself that way but, dammit, she did and for Annabelle, for them, he had to try.

ANNABELLE WALKED into her uncle's office. He greeted her with a loud catcall, followed by a frown. "Go home and change. No niece of mine is going out of the house dressed like a damn floozy."

Annabelle grinned and twirled around. "What's wrong with Oscar de la Renta?" she asked of her pale pink, strapless cocktail-length dress. "Sarah Jessica Parker wore this dress. I saw the picture in Vogue magazine."

He snorted. "I don't care if Sarah Bernhardt wore the damn thing. You'll have the young buck drooling. The twins are fallin' out, for God's sake," he muttered, speaking of her breasts.

If she hadn't grown up with his frank talk, she'd blush now. "I have a very supportive bra. It's fine. Can we change the subject, please? So tell me, have you spoken to Lola?" she asked him.

"Have you spoken to Vaughn?" Uncle Yank shot J back.