Vaughn frowned, tilted his head, and spent a couple of long seconds thinking. “Oh. Yeah.” He snorted a sound that was probably meant as a laugh. “Sugar. Honey. I get it.” He stuck one long arm in the fridge and began to move things aside. “So?”
“Black, with sugar.” Randy pulled out a chair in the vicinity of one of the mugs and sat. “Vaughn—”
Vaughn didn’t give him a chance to continue. “So, are you back to appease your own sense of dignity and give me a formal ‘thanks, but no thanks’ speech?” He turned and measured cream into the other mug. “Because, if that’s the case, I’ll take a pass. Don’t get me wrong, I understand if that’s the resolution you’ve come to. But honestly? I just don’t wanna hear it.”
He pulled out a chair and sat. Then he looked up, caught Randy’s gaze and gave Randy
