by SJ McCoy
He enjoyed her company too much to screw things up by complicating them. He only slept with women he was confident he wouldn’t run into again. He saw Roxy all the time. He couldn’t help smiling as he stepped into the shower. He’d like to see more of her. But what did that mean? He hadn’t dated a girl in years. It got too complicated, they got too demanding, and there were so many of them passing through the resort here that there was no reason to get hung up on one girl in particular.
As he washed himself, it occurred to him that he was getting hung up on her. What he didn’t understand was why. She’d been one of the gang—one of the guys almost, for a couple of years now. He’d always appreciated the way she looked, but he hadn’t allowed himself to think of her as a woman—as a prospective partner—until just last night. And to him, a prospective partner was someone he wanted to sleep with, not someone he wanted to date, or to partner with for anything more than a weekend at most.
What he should really do was put her out of his mind. She’d sneaked into it in no time at all. He should be able to put her out of it just as quickly. He’d take himself to work. Get a couple of hours in and work all this craziness out of his system. By the time ten-thirty rolled around, he’d call her, tell her that he’d gotten caught up at work, and ask if they could have lunch some other time.
While he got dressed, he tried to convince himself that that was the best course of action. He’d gotten carried away. That was all. Last night he’d told Roxy that he wanted to see if something could happen between them. This morning he’d come to his senses. She’d understand. Hell, she’d probably feel the same way. She hadn’t acted as though she was taking him too seriously. Apart from when he’d kissed her—and she kissed him back. Damn. He didn’t need to be thinking about that kiss. He needed to get his ass in the truck and get himself to work.
When he got over to the offices at Four Mile Creek, he felt a bit better. Over here, everything was the way it always was. It was maybe better because there was no one around to harass him with questions or to derail him with urgent matters that he had to go help with. He managed to get a couple of hours done before he checked his watch. When he did, it was ten after ten.
He made a face and considered just not calling her at all. That would be easier. He could get back to work, get lost in what he needed to do, and just let ten-thirty roll on by. He stared at his screen again. He could do that. He pulled up the latest schedule that Aaron had been working on and started to check off expected delivery dates.
He only made it through three lines of the spreadsheet before he stopped to check his watch again. Ten-fourteen. Damn. He wasn’t going to be able to do it. He’d told her he’d call her. It would be shitty of him not to. He’d call—and say he was at work; that wasn’t a lie. He’d suggest they could have lunch some other time. That was open-ended enough, and they no doubt would have lunch sometime. It’d be with the rest of the gang and not the kind of lunch he’d meant when he’d suggested this, but still.
He stared at the screen again, but the numbers just floated before his eyes, refusing to make sense. He jumped when his cell phone rang. He stared at it for a moment before picking it up warily and checking the screen. Was Roxy calling him already?
Relief swept through him when he saw Zack’s name.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“At work, why?”
“I was out for a run. I passed your place and didn’t see your truck, and I wondered …”
Logan smiled to himself. “Were you about to tear me a new one for doing something you I think I shouldn’t?”
Zack laughed. “I was just curious.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that I walked Roxy home last night and said goodnight to her on her doorstep.”
“I see.”
“What does that mean? I thought you’d be pleased that I was a good boy.”
Zack laughed. “I thought I would be, too. But I think I was kind of hoping that you were going to tell me that the two of you got together.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I thought the way you were so protective of her last night meant that you were finally ready to step up.”
“Step up? What does that mean?”
“You know. Leave your childish ways behind and become a man.”
Logan sat back. “You think my ways are childish?”
“No. It’s just a turn of phrase. But then yeah, maybe. I mean you’re playing a boy’s game. All the sleeping around you do. At some point, you’re going to … forget it. That sounds patronizing as hell, and that’s not what I mean. Ignore me. I’ve been listening to the girls too much. Maria’s got it into her head that you and Roxy are going to be the next pair to couple up. I’ll be honest, I like the idea. I got so carried away with it that I forgot; you’re you. It’s not going to happen.”
Logan thought about that for a moment.
“You still there?”
“Yeah.”
“You mad at me?”
“A little bit. I’m more confused, though. I want to be pissed at you for calling me childish, but I know that’s not really what you mean. It takes a man to step up and get into something real with a woman. I guess I am just a cowardly boy—I don’t have the balls for it.”
Zack laughed. “Sure, you do. You just haven’t met the woman who makes you want it. For a minute there, I thought that things had clicked between you and Roxy. I guess I thought it’d be cool if the two of you got together. That’s all.”
“It’s not that I don’t like her.”
“Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
“I know, I think I’m trying to explain it to myself. See, last night I was thinking about something happening between her and me—and no, not just sex—but something more, you know? I’m supposed to take her to lunch today. See where it might go, but I’ve spent this morning talking myself out of it.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s not what I do.”
“There’s your answer then, right?”
“Maybe. But then again, maybe it’s like you said—it’s just not what I’ve done up until now; because I never met a woman who made me want to.”
“And Roxy makes you want to?”
“I think so.”
“So why not take her to lunch?”
Logan looked down at his watch. It was ten-twenty-nine. “Because I’d hate to get into something with her and let her down.”
“There are never any guarantees. It’s not as though she doesn’t know what she’d be getting into. She knows who you are.”
“That’s true.” He blew out a sigh.
“Why don’t you have lunch with her and be straight with her? Tell her how you feel and tell her what you’re scared of.”
Logan laughed. “Admit weakness to a woman?”
Zack laughed. “Yeah, stop setting her up as this adversary from the opposite team and start seeing her the way you’ve always seen her—as your friend, and talk to her like one.”
“But if she’s a friend …”
Zack laughed. “You’re going to start in with your friends and fucks theory, aren’t you? How about you think of it as friends with benefits—or better yet, becoming more than friends.”
Logan pursed his lips.
“I think I’ve messed with your head enough for one day. Are you out tonight?”
“Probably.”
“Okay. We’ll be at the Boathouse later. You can tell me what you decided then.”
“All right. I’ll see you later.”
After he’d hung up, he turned the phone over in his hands. Was he going to call her? He nodded and dialed her number.
~ ~ ~
Roxy stood in her laundry room, folding clothes. It wasn’t often that she got a whole weekend off, but when she did, she liked to get all her chores out of the way early. She’d kept herself busy all morning telling herself that she was just taking care of the housework—not
that she was trying to avoid thinking about Logan. She’d almost managed to convince herself that he wouldn’t call. They wouldn’t go to lunch, and last night would just be a slight deviation from course that they’d never mention again. Almost. She’d brought her phone with her, and it sat on top of the dryer—just in case. If he did call, she’d hate for him to think that she was avoiding him.
Even though she was staring at it while she folded a work blouse, she still jumped when it rang. Ten-thirty, on the dot. Her heart raced, and she stared at his name on the screen. Oh well. Here went nothing.
“Morning,” she answered.
“Good morning. How you doing?”
“As well as can be expected for someone who’s already on her second load of laundry on her day off,”
“Aww. I feel your pain.”
Roxy smiled. She’d never thought about him doing laundry before. It made her feel a little closer to him for some stupid reason. “Are you doing the same?”
“Nah. I avoided it completely and came into work instead.”
“Oh.” She felt a ball of disappointment settle in her stomach. So, he was calling to say he wouldn’t be able to make lunch.
“Are we still on for lunch?”
Her heart rate sped up again. “If you want, are you finished at work?”
“Yeah. I didn’t need to come in. I was just … I … you know how it goes. Sometimes you just need to get stuff done.”
“I guess. Don’t let me put you out, though; we can do it another time if you’re busy. It’s no big deal.”
“It isn’t?”
She had to swallow before she answered. She’d kept telling herself since he left here last night that it was no big deal, that it couldn’t be a big deal—and that to Logan it was probably nothing. She didn’t know how to answer, so she turned the question back on him. “Are you saying it is?”
He was quiet for a long moment. She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. “It’s a deal. How big it is, we’ll have to figure out. But … I dunno, Rox. Are you saying you’d rather forget about it?”
“No!” she said it before she could stop herself. “I don’t know either, Logan. It’s too weird for words.”
He laughed. “It is, isn’t it? I mean, who’d have thought … you and me?”
She was hardly about to tell him that she’d thought about it—a lot. “You’re right, it’s probably a bad idea.”
“Maybe, but I say we should at least have lunch and talk about it. It’d be even weirder to just forget about it now. It’d make things awkward, and I’d never want things to be awkward between us.”
“Me neither.” She was starting to feel disappointed again. It sounded like he just wanted to smooth things over before they forgot about it.
“And besides,” she could hear the smile in his voice again. “I’d like you to put my mind at ease about something.”
“What?”
He chuckled. “I’ll tell you when I see you. What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Pick me up?”
“Yeah. There’s no point in both of us driving.”
“Okay. Whenever suits you. You’re the one at work.”
“How about noon?”
“Okay.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
“You don’t need to pick me up. I can walk.”
“You don’t even know where we’re going.”
“I don’t? I assumed the Boathouse.”
“Never assume. Especially with me. I’ll see you at noon.”
“Okay. Bye.” Roxy hung up with a big smile on her face. How was it possible to go on such a roller coaster ride within the course of just a few short minutes like that? All she knew was that she was looking forward to seeing him—and to whatever he had in mind for lunch.
She ran upstairs and started going through her closet, trying to decide what to wear. She wanted to look good, but she didn’t want to look like she’d gone to too much trouble. At least it was chilly out. She loved the late autumn. There’d been a light frost the last couple of mornings, and she loved frost—it gave a sparkly, magical quality everywhere—and more importantly, it gave her reason to dress in warmer clothes, that helped her cover the fact that she could hardly be described as svelte.
She flicked through the sweaters hanging in the back of the closet. She hadn’t had many of them out since last year. She smiled when she reached a chocolate brown one that she loved. It looked good on her and covered her up without looking frumpy. She had a nice pair of brown boots that would go with it, and she knew exactly which jacket would look good with it, too. She breathed out a sigh of relief. It shouldn’t matter how she looked. But it did. She didn’t want Logan to see her and remember why he’d never shown any interest in her before.
She brought the sweater out and sat down on the bed. At the same time, she didn’t want him to only be interested in the way she looked. Maybe this was a crazy idea. It would be pointless if she was going to spend the whole time second-guessing herself, and worse, second-guessing Logan and his motives. She pulled her favorite jeans out of the dresser draw and started to get changed. As she did, she gave herself a stern talking to. This lunch date might be something, and it might be nothing. It might solidify their friendship; it might be an exploration of something beyond friendship—or confirmation that there was nothing. But whatever it was going to be, she had to go into it knowing that she was good enough. Whether that meant good enough for him to be interested in her, or good enough to know that she was worth more than just another roll in the sack for him—whatever. She wasn’t going to allow herself to get caught up in trying to be something—someone—other than herself just to get him to like her.
When she was ready, she checked herself over in the mirror. She looked good. She smiled. She looked happy and confident, and that was much more important than looking sexy or perfectly made up or whatever it was that men found attractive, but which few of them had ever seemed to find in her.
She did her best to stay busy until noon and tried to relax. It was only lunch. She tensed when she heard the doorbell ring, then smiled at herself. “Go do it. It’s only Logan.”
She chuckled as she made her way down the stairs. Only Logan? But it was true. Sure, she liked him, sure part of her had daydreamed about the sexy, popular Logan seeing something in her, but in reality, he was just a friend. Nothing about him made him any better than her. He was just as lucky that she would deign to spend time with him as she was that he’d want to spend time with her.
Her breath caught in her chest when she opened the front door. He was gorgeous! She might overuse that word when it came to him, but there was no other way to say it. His dark hair fell over one eye, his broad shoulders were encased in a denim jacket that she loved on him, and his smile … his smile lit up his eyes.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” She could feel herself smiling back.
He brought one hand around from behind his back and held out a single red rose. “For you.”
“Thank you!” She took it from him with a shaking hand. “I didn’t expect …”
He grinned. “Don’t read too much into it. It just struck me on the way over here. You’re supposed to give a girl flowers when you go on a date. I thought it’d be a nice gesture.”
She took a deep breath and pulled herself together. He was right; she shouldn’t read too much into it. It was probably a standard move for him.
“Come in a minute, let me put it in some water before we go.”
He followed her through to the kitchen, where she kept her back turned to him while she found a vase and filled it at the faucet.
She tensed and froze when she felt him standing close behind her.
“Are you avoiding me?”
She turned around with a laugh. “Avoiding you? You’re here in my kitchen, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but you haven’t met my eye since I arrived.”
Her heart was racing in her chest.
She couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t want to admit it.
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “You can tell me now if you’re just biding your time before you tell me that this is a bad idea?”
She shook her head, shocked that that was what he was thinking. “It’s not that. I’m just a bit nervous, I guess.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “Nervous is one thing. Not interested is another. You’re just nervous?”
She nodded.
His face relaxed, and he smiled. “Me too. I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I hope it’s something. I just don’t want you to feel you have to go along with it to be polite or something.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t. I’d find it a lot easier to tell you I’m not interested than to …” She stopped, realizing that the only way she could end that sentence would be to tell him that she was interested.
He smiled, but to her relief, he didn’t push her to explain. “Good to know. Shall we go, then?”
“Yeah, let’s.” She was eager to escape the confines of her kitchen and the need to examine what was going on between them.
Chapter Seven
When they were out in the truck, Logan glanced over at Roxy. She looked amazing. He couldn’t remember a time she’d looked—or smelled—as good as she did right now. He had to wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him. She always looked good, but he didn’t usually take it in the way he was doing now. He pursed his lips as he realized that up until last night, he hadn’t seen her as anything more than part of the scenery of his everyday life. That was an awful thought. Why did he pay so much attention to women that he didn’t know and overlook this beauty who was now, by some miracle, sitting beside him in his truck?
She gave him a puzzled look. “Is everything all right?”
He smiled. “I was just thinking that things couldn’t be better. I’m glad we’re doing this, Rox.”
“Me too, but what exactly are we doing?”
His heart raced. He’d been hoping that over the course of their lunch, he might figure out just what it was he was doing. He was starting to consider all kinds of possibilities, but he wasn’t ready to face them yet—let alone tell her about them. He hadn’t expected her to put him on the spot this early on.
