Dallin flashed the couple a white-toothed smile. “You won’t be sorry,” he said, giving the woman a wink. “Everything tastes amazing too.”
The murmuring crowd dispersed, heading toward the auction tables. Weslee shook her head in amazement. “You probably just tripled the amount of money the auctions will go for.”
“Good.” He considered her for a long moment, his brown eyes thoughtful as if contemplating something serious. “Would you—”
His question was interrupted by a booming voice thanking everyone for coming out to support such an important cause and announcing the auction would begin in a few minutes.
“Before we get started, I’d like to have Mr. Dallin Morrison say a few words.”
Surprise flitted across Dallin’s face but he quickly hid it behind a smile. Obviously, he hadn’t planned on giving a speech, making Weslee wonder why he’d come tonight. Surely he hadn’t come just to meet her.
Dallin met Weslee’s eyes, giving her a slight nod of his head before he excused himself. While he worked his way up to the podium, the MC talked about Dallin being a last-minute guest and thanked him for his support. He went on to praise Dallin for his humanitarian work, mentioning that he was going to run for the Senate when his father retired.
So his appearance was all for politics. She felt silly for thinking it had anything to do with her. Not that she was interested in dating someone like Dallin Morrison. Although she found him attractive and knew he was a good man, she didn’t feel any kind of spark around him, but maybe that was a good thing. No fireworks meant stability. Chemistry didn’t necessarily lead to long-lasting relationships.
It’s why she kept shooting down Robbie Whitaker, even though at one time she would’ve jumped at the chance to go out with him. Robbie’s parents owned the beach house next to theirs on Emerald Isle. He was their only child and was the quintessential spoiled rich boy, blessed with unbelievably good looks and a charming personality.
Weslee had fallen in love with him the first time she met him. She’d been fifteen and he was twenty-six. Mature for her age and blessed with curves most women never achieved without the help of surgical implants, Robbie noticed her and had flirted with her, even though he had a serious girlfriend. Aside from the vast age difference, Robbie was also a single dad to an eight-year-old son he’d fathered his senior year of high school. It was kind of weird that she was closer in age to his son, Josh, than she was to Robbie. By the time Weslee was old enough to finally date Robbie, the man was married to wife two. She’d also gotten smarter about the kind of man he was.
Although he’d grown even more handsome with each passing year and still charmed her, she was too smart to fall for someone like him. Apparently, he’d just divorced wife number four, and he had decided that it was about time he and Weslee officially went out on a date to explore their mutual attraction. Yes, he’d actually texted her that, along with continually begging her to return to the Emerald Isle house. He and Josh were living with the Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker while their house was under construction. Robbie was building a huge home a few miles down the coastline and couldn’t wait to show it to Weslee.
His text messages always made her laugh because his pick-up lines were so cliché. She had to admit that part of her was flattered even though she knew he was a total player. Over the past month, he’d been pretty consistent about wanting to go out with her, telling her he refused to go out with any other women until she at least gave him a chance. Her responses weren’t as flirtatious, which made him think she was playing hard to get. She just didn’t want to encourage him since her crush had faded over the years.
Logan made her jump when he lightly touched his hand to her elbow. She’d been so lost in thought that she’d missed Dallin’s opening statement.
“Sorry,” Logan said, having to lean in close to her ear to be heard over the applause for the future senator. His warm breath started a cascade of shivers that awakened the dormant butterflies in her stomach, making them go wild again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She turned to assure him he hadn’t startled her and their mouths nearly collided. “Oh,” she said, moving away from him. “You’re fine…I mean, I’m fine.”
One corner of his mouth edged up. “Good to know,” Logan whispered, now that the crowd had quieted in order to hear Dallin speak. “And I think you’re fine too.”
Weslee narrowed her eyes, wanting to clarify that she’d just been tongue-tied. She hadn’t meant to call him fine in a I-think-you’re-hot kind of fine. Except…she did think that.
Something dark flickered in Logan’s eyes as Dallin said something that made everyone chuckle. “I believe Mr. Morrison thinks you’re exceptionally fine.” His eyes lingered on hers. “I’m not sure I liked the way he looked at you.”
“How did he look at me?” she asked. “Surely you don’t believe he poses a threat?”
A shadow crossed Logan’s face as a muscle in his jaw ticked. “No, ma’am,” he said, edging back ever so slightly. “I don’t believe he poses a threat to you.”
Weslee got the feeling his answer had a double meaning and wanted to press him further, but he was no longer looking at her. He was all business now, like a soldier on his watch. She tuned in to Dallin’s voice. He encouraged everyone to be generous with their donations, reminding the crowd that children were the future.
The auction began shortly after Dallin ended his impassioned speech. At the auctioneer’s request, the future senator remained on the podium. It was a smart move. Dallin motivated people to make substantial bids. Weslee was sure the event would end up bringing in more money than it had in the past.
Throughout the auction, Logan remained aloof and serious, managing to look sexy and brooding while he was at it. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to notice all the admiring glances many of the female patrons were giving him. Weslee noticed though…and it bothered her. Bothered her so much that she found herself wanting to inch closer and closer. Maybe she would slip her hand in his to send out the message that he was hers.
Except he wasn’t hers. He was her bodyguard.
As the auction came to a close, her stomach was a jumbled mess of angst, envy, and hunger. She placed her hand on Logan’s forearm. His muscles were tense and she felt like she’d latched onto a slab of marble. “Are you as hungry as I am?” she asked when he looked down at her.
A slow smile curved his lips. “I guess you could say that.”
Weslee tried not reading anything into his sexy smile or the possible innuendo, but she liked the way he was looking at her and hoped the other women eyeing him got the message they were together. She wished she hadn’t made such a big fuss about him not being her boyfriend. It was too late to tell him she’d changed her mind.
“Okay.” She tightened her hold on his arm. “We should get something to eat before the dance starts.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They made their way to the buffet tables, Weslee clutching the fabric of his sleeve in an effort to remain close to him. She was fully aware of the two women trailing behind them. They had openly admired Logan and didn’t have any qualms about following him.
The buffet held a variety of delicious food. Logan handed her a plate, forcing her to let go of him. “This actually looks edible,” he said, choosing a variety of gourmet appetizers.
Weslee added a few things, but her appetite wasn’t nearly as healthy as his. The two women who had followed them to the buffet table had their eyes trained on Logan as if he was on the menu and they wanted a large helping. Again she questioned why she had made such a fuss about him posing as her boyfriend. Now, if she danced with anyone else, Logan would be free to dance too. She didn’t like thinking about him dancing with anyone else but her.
Dallin Morrison single-handedly ensured the auction items sold at a premium price, so there wasn’t really a need to stay for the dance. Except for the opportunity to dance with Logan. She may never get the chance again.
Sh
e glanced at the two women who had moved to the end of the table near the desserts. They had no intention of indulging in the delicious sweets. Both of them looked like scarecrows with big boobs. Anyone that emaciated would not be so well-endowed without the help from a plastic surgeon. No, the women were here for one thing. Her bodyguard.
A knot of possessiveness twisted inside her stomach. On impulse, she edged around Logan, purposely brushing her arm against his as she did so. It was shameful, really, to use physical contact like a weapon. Especially for a southern girl who had been reared to be a lady from the time she’d learned to walk. Hopefully she emitted the same magnitude of electricity with her touch as he did with his, otherwise, he’d think she just wanted to get to the desserts before he did.
“My goodness, I don’t think you have any room for dessert,” she said with a light laugh. “We better find a table to eat at and then come back if you still have room.”
An amused expression crossed his face. “Thanks, but there’s always room for dessert.” He looked over her head to where the two women waited. A crooked smile appeared on his handsome face as he looked back at Weslee. “I might even get two.”
A pit formed in her stomach. He was referring to the dessert, right? “I hope you don’t make yourself sick,” she said, not sure where all this craziness was coming from. “Too much sugar is bad for you.”
His grin widened. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They moved in tandem, Weslee determined to stay in front of him. Logan made a move similar to hers as he went around her except he didn’t touch her in the process. “Hello, ladies,” he said to his admirers. “Any recommendations for dessert?”
Hearing him flirt made the pit in her stomach open up as wide as the Grand Canyon. Jealousy was a horrible feeling. She had never experienced it quite at this level. What did that mean? She’d known Logan Steele for only a few days. Not even long enough to develop a healthy crush, yet she was ready to get into a fight with two women just for looking at him.
One of the girls laughed a deep, throaty laugh like she was a smoker. “I have a few ideas you might like,” she said in a husky voice. “Depends on how big of an appetite you have.”
The suggestive tone made Weslee sick to her stomach with jealousy. Too afraid Logan might actually flirt back, she couldn’t look at him and needed to leave. Abandoning her plate, she lifted her skirt up and turned to walk away.
Logan’s hand circled her wrist like a manacle. How dare he make her stay and listen to the women openly proposition him. “Oh, it’s not for me,” he said, gently tightening his hold when she tried to free herself. “It’s for my girlfriend.”
Chapter 8
Fighting back a smile, Logan gripped onto Weslee’s wrist and felt her go perfectly still. Jealousy radiated off of her like the fallout from a nuclear bomb. It settled a bit as she drew in a sharp breath. When he was sure she wasn’t going to bolt on him, he slid his palm down, threaded their fingers together and pulled her next to him. “What sounds good to you, babe?” he asked, giving her fingers a little squeeze.
Weslee remained stiff. She needed to loosen up and play the part of his girlfriend or the two women standing in front of him weren’t going to buy it. He rubbed his thumb across her skin. “Want me to pick something for you?” he asked, giving her a wink.
That did the trick. As if a director had just called out action, amusement sparkled in her eyes and a tiny smile emerged. “Would you, sweetheart?” she said, playing up her southern accent. “I swear I can never make up my mind.”
She was playing the part a little too well. The pout on her lips tempted Logan to lean down and kiss her. He forced his eyes away from her mouth and turned to look over the dessert choices. He caught the dark-haired woman who had come onto him eyeing Weslee viciously as if she were her competition. Weslee was so far out of this chick’s league it wasn’t even a close race. The woman’s redheaded companion still watched Logan like a vulture ready to swoop in to devour her prey. She didn’t care if he had a girlfriend or not. Heck, more than likely she’d invite Weslee to come along.
Women like these two had never appealed to him. Sex was like a form of entertainment to them. No commitment. No tender feelings of love. Just an activity meant to satisfy their desires. Logan’s mother had raised him to respect girls. He didn’t mess around and he hated guys who used women and then tossed them aside like an empty beer can.
Wanting to get away from the duo, he chose a decadent chocolate cheesecake garnished with fresh raspberries. Reluctantly, he let go of Weslee’s hand to pick it up. “Ladies,” he said, holding up the plate, “I think I’ve made my choice.”
The brunette lasered him with a disdainful expression while the redhead smiled and lifted one shoulder up in a shrug. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“We will,” Weslee said, wrapping her hand around his arm. “Y’all have a good night.” Then she picked up her abandoned plate with her free hand and the two of them walked away.
A few tables were scattered near the windows. Logan led them to a table closest to an exit. He nodded his head at Kate, who breezed by them on her way to the buffet table. Seeing the fellow security agent reminded him he still had a job to do.
“You did good back there, Campbell,” he said, trying to get his mind back into the op.
“Campbell?” she asked, nudging his arm. “What happened to babe?”
Her comment made him laugh. “So, babe isn’t a term of endearment I can use?” he asked, unloading the two plates onto the table.
“I didn’t say that. I think you used it very appropriately.” She set her plate down and narrowed her gaze. “I had a few names I wanted to call those women, but my mama taught me it’s not ladylike to speak like that, especially in polite company.”
He laughed again. “Weslee, I’ve been in the military for the past ten years. Pretty sure whatever you have to say isn’t going to offend me.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Even my mother would approve in this case.”
“I suppose so.” She smiled and slid onto the chair. “Thank you.”
Logan’s hands rested on the back of the chair, ready to help her slide closer to the table. But his view from behind her was so incredible that he couldn’t move. With her hair piled on top of her head, it left her slender neck bare, exposing soft skin he’d like to brush his lips across.
“Everything okay?” she asked, angling her face to look at him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, careful not to touch her as he slid the chair closer. He knew being so acutely aware of her, one touch of her skin would be like touching a tripwire, setting off a massive explosion.
He took the seat opposite of her, positioning his chair to give him a view of the room and the people milling around. So far the only one stalking Weslee was Logan.
He picked up the white cloth napkin that held the utensils and unrolled it. A curse word nearly slipped out when he spied Dallin Morrison coming across the floor toward them.
“Pardon me for interrupting,” Dallin said as he approached their table. “I wanted to apologize for ending our conversation so abruptly. I didn’t know they were going to call on me to speak.”
“No need to apologize, Mr. Morrison,” Weslee said, smoothing the cloth napkin with her fingers. “You were wonderful. I’m certain they raised more money because of you.”
“It’s Dallin.” He gazed longingly at Weslee, making Logan want to sweep his foot out to knock the man on his backside. “And thank you for the kind words.”
Color infused Weslee’s cheeks as her eyes cut to Logan for a brief heartbeat. Dallin followed her line of sight and the two men locked eyes. He wasn’t exactly challenging Logan, but he was definitely putting feelers out to see where Logan stood. How had he ever liked this guy? Right now he wanted to put the drop on him.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Dallin said, holding out his hand. “I’m Dallin Morrison.”
Scooting his chair back, Logan got to his feet. He maybe had an inch
on Dallin and a few pounds he hoped were solid muscle. “Logan Steele,” he said, gripping the man’s hand just hard enough to let him know he was present.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Logan.” Dallin withdrew his hand, flexing his fingers as he dropped it to his side.
Maybe Logan had gripped a little too hard. “Likewise.” Logan sat back down, hoping Weslee didn’t ask the guy to join them. Logan stared him down until the guy finally looked away.
“Well, I’ll let you eat your meal,” he said to Weslee, pausing for a moment as if giving her a chance to ask him to stay. “I hope you’ll save a dance for me?”
“Of course,” Weslee said, now mutilating her napkin rather than smoothing it out. “You should get a plate. The food is delicious…I mean, I haven’t tried anything yet, but it smells very good.”
“Thank you. I believe I will.” Dallin stepped back and gave her a slight nod of his head. He didn’t spare Logan another glance as he headed for the buffet table.
Envy, frustration and white-hot anger tangled inside Logan’s chest. He wasn’t used to having these kinds of emotions. He’d always thought men who got so twisted up over a woman were weak and they just needed to man-up. He didn’t feel weak. It was more primal like he wanted to shout out that Weslee was his woman and to back off.
With all the crazy thoughts racing through his mind, he decided it was better to keep his mouth shut. He wished he could turn his brain off because ideas like putting a ring on Weslee’s finger to stake his claim seemed like a perfectly rational thought to him. Logan wasn’t the marrying kind of guy. So why was the memory of Blaine’s wedding to Elena forcing its way into his mind? Except instead of Blaine as the groom it was Logan standing next to Cannon while he watched his bride glide down the aisle toward him.
The guys, especially Hammerton, would never let him live this down. Logan was the guy who wasn’t going to ever fall for a girl. Love was too risky, and he never wanted to put a woman through what his mother had experienced when his dad had passed away. Logan had felt so helpless as a little boy, unable to console his mother.
The Rogue Warrior: Navy SEAL Romances 2.0 Page 8
