by Melissa West
“Again,” Logan repeated, slowly this time.
Savannah’s bottom lip trembled, all their history—the hurt she’d felt, the longing that remained even after the pain subsided—bubbling up. “Logan…”
This time he didn’t wait for a reply. He rushed in, his lips connecting with hers, his fingers threading into her hair. And then she was standing, the need to be close to him too great to keep her still another moment. Her lips parted, and his tongue slid over her teeth and her tongue, tasting and feeling, and Savannah lost all control. She moaned against his lips—until Leigh cleared her throat loudly.
“Oh!” Savannah pulled away this time, her cheeks burning as she caught the crowd watching them. The mayor. Mrs. Cooke. The blonde triplets.
Oh my God.
Everyone was going to talk. They all knew now. There was no hiding this. She pressed her fingertips to her tingly lips. Though the kiss had lasted all of three seconds, Savannah felt breathless. Her heart and mind were at odds, one telling her to stop this from going any further, to save her name, the other saying to forget all her worries and live for once.
“One, two,” Logan said, counting out more dollars, which did little more than anger the people behind him. Several walked away, calling out the unfairness of it, but Logan never let his resolve waver.
Logan dropped the bills into the change box then met her eyes again. With a single exhale, he leaned in and Savannah knew she couldn’t push him away. Not when they were nineteen, and not now. His lips grazed hers, first soft, then a touch harder, his body closer, his mouth moving over hers, drawing her in. His fingertips slipped through her hair, cradling her head as he deepened the kiss, his mouth taking ownership. He kissed her like there was no one around, like nothing else in the world mattered, and she found herself falling into it, ready to go wherever he took her. Her heart raced away in her chest, and she feared it might never settle down, that she might never recover… And there was still a long line stretching from her booth, a dozen or more kisses still to come if he planned to wait them all out. How would she ever get away from this day with her heart intact?
With obvious effort he pulled away, his eyes so dark they were nearly black. Savannah pulled her gaze from Logan to apologize to the next person in line, her Southern manners coming out, and realized nearly everyone had scattered. Logan’s trick had worked—in more ways than one. There was just one person left in line. Travis. And he made no show of going anywhere.
Logan glanced uncomfortably at the town’s sheriff. “I have a lot of ones here,” he said, nodding to the wad of bills.
Travis didn’t move. “I’ve got nothing but time.”
Logan stared at him. “You’re the sheriff. Surely you’ve got something better to do.”
“Nope.”
“Fine. I’ll give you ten bucks to walk,” Logan said.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Travis edged closer to Savannah, and Logan put out his arms, clearly growing flustered.
“Twenty.”
“No.”
“Fifty.”
Travis glared at him. “No.”
“Damn it, man, what will it take?”
Travis’s face curved up into a wicked grin. “You take my place in the dunk tank.”
The dunk tank, likely full of very cold water, sat beside the main stage, ready for Travis to climb inside. Logan eyed it and then Savannah.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said.
“Yeah…I do. I thought this was all a test, to see if you felt something. But the joke was on me.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t do this anymore. Be around you everyday and act like it doesn’t matter. Like we aren’t more. Because we are so much more to me. God knows I’ll never deserve your attention, but I’m far too weak a man to push it away. If you want this, then I’m here.” He focused back on Travis and reached out to shake his hand. “Deal. I’ve already taken the plunge. Might as well see it through.”
Savannah’s chest warmed as she stared after him on his way to the dunk tank. Forget losing her heart by the end of the day. It was already gone.
...
Logan walked through the door of his room at the bed-and-breakfast, sopping wet but with a smile on his face all the same. After that last kiss with Savannah, he’d needed the cold water of the dunk tank before seeing her again, or else he might forget all logic and take her to his room, where he’d do a lot more than simply kiss her.
He’d spent the night before awake, staring at his door, curious if Savannah was awake in her room or sleeping, if she was thinking or dreaming. He thought of Will, and all the things Logan had done to try to live his life for his friend only to end every day miserable.
Well, he was tired of being miserable. He was sorry. God above, he would forever be sorry. But he couldn’t deny his feelings for Savannah Hale any longer. He didn’t just want her. He loved her. Through and through, he loved her. That kind of love deserved to be realized, to be said out loud, to be cultivated and grown. And if what Mrs. Cooke had hinted at was true, maybe Savannah felt something more for him, too.
Tugging off his shirt, he tossed it to the floor and reached for a fresh towel, not realizing he’d left his door open until a voice he’d recognize anywhere asked, “What just happened?”
He turned around to find Savannah standing in his doorway, half into his world and half out. He wanted to launch into every thought and feeling he had about her and them, but instead, he decided to tread cautiously. “Here in the States we call it kissing.”
“So that’s it. Just kissing?”
Never the timid sort, he pushed off his cargo shorts, exposing a pair of plaid boxers that stuck to his legs. Her gaze dropped, and she blanched, forever the timid sort. “No. It wasn’t just kissing,” Logan said. “And right now, it’s taking all my effort to keep from proving how much more than just kissing I want this to be.”
Her eyes snapped to him, and for a moment he thought she might come to him, but then she shook her head, her surprise turning to sadness. “I don’t understand you. You said in the basement that you’d never been more sorry. Then you stand at my booth like a caveman, refusing to allow anyone else to kiss me.”
“Did you want someone else to kiss you?”
“That’s not the point.”
Logan took a cautious step toward her. “I think it is.”
The sky was dark now, the easiness of the day replaced with the moon and stars, all the makings of romance. All the things they weren’t ready to explore. But maybe they’d never be ready, and maybe that didn’t matter.
Savannah bit down on her bottom lip, and Logan groaned, missing the feel of it pressed against his own.
“You can’t do that while you’re talking to me unless you want this to get very awkward.” His gaze dropped to his boxers, and her eyes widened, before a small laugh escaped those perfect lips.
“You’re never embarrassed are you? Never shy.”
Logan licked his own lips, immediately noting how much he wished he were licking hers. “We are who we are. No reason to dance around it like it’s going to change.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
She peered at him through her lashes. “No, I didn’t want anyone else to kiss me. Not then. And not now.”
Like her words unlocked the final bolt in his restraint, Logan sprang forward, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his lips to hers like she was his lifeline and without her he would drown.
His fingers slid into her hair, stroking the waves as he slowed the kiss, enjoying the change, the sureness of knowing she wanted to kiss him back. This wasn’t charity, which was exactly why he’d concocted his plan. He knew if she felt something for him, by the end of the day she wouldn’t be able to stay away. Sex was impersonal. You could hook up and leave. But kissing had a depth to it that bound you to a person. A good kiss would last forever in your memory, and Savannah and Logan were made to kiss. It was natural and easy and all consuming. He knew that all tho
se years ago, and it had scared the shit out of him.
But now, he wasn’t a nineteen-year-old boy. He was a man, and he may never deserve to have her, but he had to try, or else he would regret it for the rest of his life.
She shivered in his arms and he pulled away, a small smile on his face at the disappointment on hers.
“Let’s warm you up.”
He closed the door to his room and took her hand in his, leading her to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower a little too hot, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t notice the heat anyway.
Allowing the steam to fill the room, he took his time slipping off her tank top and helping her out of her shorts, his gaze travelling over every inch of exposed flesh. God, she was beautiful. He tugged her closer, his lips finding the dip of her neck, and she trembled, this time of something other than cold.
He stepped into the shower, which was full of steam and the smell of Irish Spring soap, the only kind he’d ever used. He reached for her hand, and without hesitation, she followed him under the water. His hands glided down her waist, over the swell of her hips and her skin bubbled up in goose bumps.
“Tell me you want this as badly as I do.”
“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Her gaze lifted. “Long before I should have.”
“You mean…?”
“You never noticed me, Logan Park. But I always noticed you.”
Now he knew what Mrs. Cooke had said was true. Savannah hadn’t only loved Will…she cared for Logan. Maybe even loved him, too.
The revelation made him want to take her right then, but he didn’t want to rush. Not now. Instead, he kissed her lips slowly, memorizing the way they felt and tasted, the sweet sounds she made. Then he went to her cheek, then her neck, then the swell of her breasts. Before long the weight on his shoulders lifted, the stone over his heart softened, and as they finally connected, he allowed himself to forget the past and simply enjoy the woman he loved.
Chapter Eleven
Savannah woke with a smile on her face and a single yellow rose from the garden on her pillow. Beneath it was a note, and scribbled across the paper in black ink were the words: Went into town to grab breakfast. Be back soon. X Logan
She took the note in her hand and pressed it to her chest, a thin sheet the only thing covering her body. They’d spent the night tangled up in each other, few words passing, and for once she didn’t want to think about all the whys or ifs or hows. She just wanted to enjoy the feel of the man she wanted beside her.
Slipping out of bed, she put on her panties and tank top and tiptoed out of Logan’s room in an effort to make it to hers without anyone noticing. Only the moment she closed the door and turned around, she ran smack into Jim—his tool belt around his waist, his hand on the ladder beside Logan’s door, and a mix of humor and mortification on his face.
“Um, I…” Jim turned away. “I’ll just go back the way I came.” He covered his eyes with one hand and headed down the steps, leaving Savannah a tomato-red mess at the top of the steps.
“Fantastic. Now, I’ve scared off the only good handyman in town.”
Just then the door beside Savannah’s door opened, and Jack stopped mid-step. “Do you ever wear clothes?” He shook his head. “Go get ready before you scare our new guests.”
Savannah felt her face light up. “Guests?”
He smiled back. “I switched the sign to open yesterday during the festival. Four couples stayed the night with plans to stay for the weekend.”
“Oh my God. Jack!”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m amazing. I know. Now go get ready before you have the husbands ogling you and piss off all the wives.”
“Thank you,” she said, before disappearing into her room.
Savannah took her time in the shower, remembering her last one and the man she’d shared it with. They’d spent the night so engrossed in each other’s bodies there wasn’t time to stop and ask what they were doing, though Savannah wondered if she wanted to know. Sometimes things were better left open and unsaid, tucked away for a safer time.
The day was well on its way now, so Savannah dressed quickly and went downstairs, eager to take on her role as the manager of Maple Cove’s Bed and Breakfast. Slipping behind the front desk and sorting the few papers that had been set there, she wondered when she’d decided to stay to run the B and B. She’d come home to sort things for her mother’s funeral, but never once did she think she might actually enjoy being back in Maple Cove.
Before she could dwell on it, Hannah McGee walked through the front door, hair and makeup in perfect order. She wore a pink summer dress that hit at her knees, and apparently she’d misplaced her bra, because she surely wasn’t wearing one. “Hey there, sweetie. How are you?” she asked.
“Fine.” Savannah paused, curious if she’d missed something. “How are you?”
Hannah glanced around. “Oh, fine, fine. I was just curious if Logan was here.”
“Actually, no. He’s not.” Savannah said, a little more smugly than she intended.
“I am now.”
Savannah peered around Hannah, unable to keep the smile from her face as she took him in. He had on faded jeans and a red polo shirt that fit him so perfectly she wondered if he’d had it tailored. Unsure of what to expect, she nodded politely to him, then to Hannah. “You have a visitor.”
He smiled back at her, holding her gaze for a second longer than he should and sending a flurry of butterflies through her belly. Then he turned his attention on Hannah. “What can I do for you?”
Hannah took a step toward him, standing far too close to be appropriate. They were in a place of business for heaven’s sake. All right, so maybe that business involved beds and people sleeping, but still. Hannah didn’t have a room here. Or did she?
Savannah picked up a pen from the desk and flicked it a continuous rhythm as she searched for Hannah’s name in the guestbook. Why didn’t they have a computer here and software or something that recorded all of this stuff? She reached for her fix-it list and added: Computer and registrations in a software or build something that would work in Excel.
Her eyes lifted to Hannah and Logan, still talking away, and her pen started tapping against the wooden desk again, louder this time.
“Did you need something else, Hannah?” she asked, her smile so painted on it could have been a product of Maybelline’s.
Her old friend turned to her and offered her own smile, before winking at Logan. “No. I got what I came for. See you in a few hours, Logan.”
Suddenly the paperwork on the front desk looked very, very interesting. Savannah had set to sorting the stack, not registering or caring what was on the page, when Logan came in close and ran his hand over the small of her back and nuzzled her ear, sending a chill through her. Lord, how this man could drop her with one tiny touch.
“Good morning.”
She didn’t want to be some crazy jealous—what? She had no idea what they were, and she had no ownership over him. He could date whomever he like, including braless Hannah. So there. Take that, jealousy.
Stepping away from him, she went back to the stack. “I’m a little busy here.”
Logan purposefully cocked his head to look at the papers. “Sorting a Toys ‘R’ Us ad?”
Savannah’s eyes dropped and sure enough she was very intently stacking a bunch of retail ads. Damn it.
“Well then.” She set the stack aside and started for the kitchen. “I’m repainting the back trim today.”
“All right. I’ll help you.”
She turned then, unable to hold her tongue. “Before or after you help Hannah McGee?”
A smile played at his lips as he edged toward her, his head slightly down in that sexy way as he watched her. “Am I sensing jealousy here?”
“No.” Her hands went to her hips, but she looked away. “I don’t care what you do.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Cooke was setting out plates in the commo
n room for the guests. Savannah didn’t want to put on a show for her and have the woman second-guessing her. Not when Savannah had made her mind up that she wanted to stay and run the bed-and-breakfast. She felt sick to her stomach every time she thought about leaving. Now she just had to get the place fixed up and put out the word that it was open and ready for spring and summer business. And, of course, find a way to bring the mortgage current. Easy stuff.
“Savannah, look at me.”
Releasing a slow breath, she forced her eyes over to Logan. “What?”
“There’s only you. There’s only ever been you.”
“Really?”
He closed this distance between them, taking her hand and tugging her to him. “You have no idea.” His mouth covered hers, sending a fresh flurry through her belly, before she heard someone clearing her throat.
“Sorry to bother you, honey,” Mrs. Cooke said, smiling. “But I wanted to go over the menu for today.”
Savannah kissed Logan once more and then stepped around him. “Of course.”
“Should I get everything setup to paint the trim?” Logan asked.
“You’d do that?”
“Whatever you need.”
Mrs. Cooke clucked her tongue from behind them. “Well, if you’re offering services, maybe you could fix that basement doorknob. Someone’s going to get stuck down there.”
They burst out laughing, and Logan said, “I’m on it, Mrs. Cooke.”
Savannah stared after Logan, enjoying the way his jeans fit from behind. She’d have to ask him to wear jeans more often.
“It’s nice to see you smiling.” Mrs. Cooke squeezed her shoulder, then started toward the kitchen, beckoning Savannah to follow. “And don’t you let town gossip hurt your heart. You be happy, honey. Nobody can fault you for wanting to be happy.”
“Wait, what do you mean town gossip?”
Mrs. Cooke’s forehead wrinkled as she looked at her, then her expression relaxed and she shook her head. “Oh, I didn’t realize…well, then never mind. Ignore me.”
“No, please. Has someone said something about the bed-and-breakfast?” Savannah worried that rumors of the bed-and-breakfast’s financial troubles had circulated. She didn’t want the Hale name tarnished by her inability to save the business.
