by Lex Martin
Laughter busts out of me. I’m too distracted by her talking like she’s a secret agent handing off a dossier to be mortified that my face is giving away personal details about Logan’s privates. Like he’d even care. He’d probably strut around like a proud peacock to know I think his manhood is enormous.
“How do you do that?” I motion toward her mouth.
“It’s cool, right? I saw some ventriloquist on PBS once when I was a kid and got obsessed.”
“It’s somehow both cool and bizarre. If you paired it with that weird eye thing you do, you might give me nightmares.”
She snorts. “You mean this?” Her eyes open dramatically and shift left, then right, back and forth while she recites the national anthem without moving her lips.
“Whoa.”
We both crack up.
After slathering on a healthy amount of sunscreen, I hand it back to her and take a swig of my Corona while I moon over Logan, who dives after the volleyball like some kind of sun god, all bulging muscles and devilish smirk.
So while I’m definitely freaking out over what happened last night, I liked it. A lot.
Almost as much as I enjoyed waking up to his hard body wrapped around mine.
When I woke up tangled in him this morning, he threaded his fingers through my hair and was about to kiss me when Patrick pounded on our door and asked if we wanted breakfast.
I tried not to watch Logan get up and stretch—buck-ass naked—but it was a losing effort. We took quick showers, separately, because even though he offered to wash my back, with the light of day shining in the room, I felt my shyness swallowing me whole again. But we walked out of the condo holding hands, and while it’s a bit unnerving to be around our friends and his family like a couple after so many years of just being friends, I’m really freaking ecstatic.
And more than a little tortured.
I bump Tori with my elbow. “Do you really think it’s smart to start something now when I’m supposed to go home in a week to work with my cousin?” I lower my voice again. “Even if I’ve had a thing for Logan for my whole life, I promised Dawn. Plus, I gave her my entire savings.”
She chugs some water and rolls her eyes. “This is home. They’re just borrowing you for a stretch. Don’t confuse things.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Be serious. I need your advice.”
“The pressure!” She shoves me with a smirk. “Fine. I’ll be serious. Take things slow, like Logan suggested, and we’ll figure out the rest. And for the record, I’m proud of that boy for sounding so mature.”
“Right?”
“Totally. Who knew that inside that sweet, albeit misguided, manchild was a guy ready to settle down and make a commitment?”
I pause. “Is that what we’re doing?”
Like she’s Susan B. Anthony giving a speech, she narrows her eyes and peers out across the sand where the guys are chatting, and waves her arm. “You, Joey Grayson, have accomplished what women across South Texas have only dreamed of doing. You have wrangled the elusive Logan Carter into a relationship.”
When she sees my face, she shrugs. “What? It’s not like he’s seeing anyone else. Just you. And you’re not seeing anyone. What do we call that, when two people are exclusively seeing each other?”
There goes her eyebrow again.
“Holy shit.”
“That’s right, mama. Holy shit.” She holds up her fist, and I giggle and jab her back. “Because I will tell you he has never brought a hookup to a family weekend or had some rando stay one night, much less two weeks, in his house. You, my little biscuit, are special.”
The words hit me so hard, my eyes sting. Between my dad leaving us after Mom died and my brother treating me like dirt, the idea that Logan actually sees me as something special is almost more than I can handle.
“That makes me strangely emotional.” I wave my hand across my eyes so I don’t start bawling.
Like the good friend she is, she wraps her arm around me and squeezes tight.
I sniffle, eager to change the subject. “Are you and Ethan having fun this weekend?”
“So much fun.” She finally releases her python grip on me. “It’s great to see Ethan kick back and relax. He works his ass off, even when I nag him to take a break. This wedding stuff forces him to take a breather.”
Concern rifles through me. “But the farm is doing better financially, right?”
“It definitely is, but Ethan’s eager to finish paying Allison’s settlement from the divorce so she can get out of our hair. Trying to expand our operation has a lot of overhead, though, but that’s what we need to do to compete at a high level. Once we’re done with that settlement, we should be golden.”
Ethan’s ex was a holy terror back when Tori first came to work on the ranch. Allison never cared about the horses they raised or even her kids that much, if I’m being honest, until Tori came on the scene.
“You and Ethan make such a great team. Allison was never that for him. And she’s always been such a biotch to you and Bev. But I do love her kids.”
Tori smiles. “I love her kids too. They’re the only reason I haven’t decked Allison in her snooty face a time or two.”
“Mila and Cody are going to be so lucky to have you as their mom.”
It’s her turn to get misty. She blinks quickly. “I’m really excited to be their mom.” Clearing her throat, she wipes her eyes. “I’m not looking to replace Allison in their lives, but I hope they know, in my heart, they’re mine. That I’ll always love them like my own.”
I sniffle. “We really shouldn’t cry about this.”
After swiping another tear, she laughs. “I know. I’ve just… been feeling more emotional lately… with all of this wedding excitement.” She grabs my hand. “Since we’re having this big heart-to-heart, I really have to tell you I hope you and Logan work out and get married and have babies, and eeep! Then you’ll be my sister!”
We look at each other, eyes wide, mouths open. “Ohhhh. I really want to be your sister.”
Like so, so much.
A deep voice interrupts. “What are you two gossiping about?”
I squint into the sun to smile at Ethan. “Nothin’.”
“Uh-huh.” He grabs a drink of water and leans down to kiss Tori on the forehead before turning to me. “You having fun, squirt?”
“So much fun. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Are you kidding? The first thing Tori said when we decided to take a trip down here was that you were coming even if she had to fly to Florida and pick you up herself.”
Kat plops down next to me. “Did I ever tell you about the time Tori hosted my bachelorette party and had a little mixeroo with the party favors?”
Tori laughs and shakes her head. “This again? I thought you said you were over it.”
“I’m over it, but that’s why I got you this gift.”
A minute later, Tori is holding up a candy necklace with…
My eyes narrow as I try to make out the details. “Are those tiny penises?” Peni? What’s the plural of penis?
Tori howls with laughter and wraps it around her neck. “Aww. Now my dreams are coming true.”
I smile as Logan walks up, his eyes brightening when he sees me.
Speaking of dreams coming true, maybe mine aren’t so out of reach.
21
Joey
“Just be back in time for the bonfire!” Tori yells across the beach while Logan and I head for his truck. She makes a naughty gesture with her hand, and I laugh.
Logan turns around to see what she’s doing, and she waves sweetly with Rambo in her arms like she wasn’t just insinuating we were sneaking off to do something dirty.
I glance up at him. Are we sneaking away to do something dirty?
My nipples tighten at the thought, and I shiver.
“Cold?” He tosses his arm over my shoulder, and I slide mine behind his back, loving the feeling of his solid body against me.
“I shou
ldn’t be cold. It’s warm and sunny.” I’m only wearing a bikini top and cutoffs over my bottoms, but this is standard beach wear.
He pauses to look me over, his eyebrows pulling tight. “Yeah, but sometimes you can get too much sun.” One big palm lands gently on my forehead. “You drinking enough water?”
I nod, secretly eating up how much attention he’s giving me.
Is this pathetic? Am I totally swooning over a guy? Probably yes on both accounts, but I’ve waited too long for Logan to see me as more than his friend to care.
After a quick peck to my lips, we’re back in motion. When we reach his truck at the back of the parking lot, he grabs my hips from behind to help me jump in.
But when we end up at the gas station, I’ll admit I’m disappointed. Which is silly. What? Did you expect him to pull over behind the sand dunes for a quickie?
As we walk through the narrow aisles, pausing to grab chips and ice and lighter fluid, I wonder why we’re not running off to do something crazy. Logan is renowned for crazy. He mooned the minister of our small town when he was in high school, for Pete’s sake. Then he slept with the guy’s daughter.
Ugh, I know too much about his sex life. So much more than I want to know.
“I’m gonna grab a Big Red. Want anything?” I point toward the cooler with my favorite soda.
“Nah. I’m good. Meet me at the register.” With a wink, he’s strolling to the front of the store.
Judging by my erratic heartbeat, I’m pretty sure that wink will be the death of me.
Smiling to myself, I grab a couple sodas and am headed toward the register when a girly squeal makes me stop.
“Logan Carter! Well, I’ll be damned. It’s so good to see you, handsome!” A brunette in a teeny-tiny bikini goes bounding up to him and throws her arms around his neck.
I stop, mid-stride, to watch.
Two blondes join her and fawn.
Blah, blah, blah. I’ve missed you! Blah freaking blah.
Hard. Eye. Roll.
I wish I could say they’re trolls, but the three women are gorgeous. Big smiles and bigger boobs. Flashing shiny jewelry and batting their salon-enhanced lashes.
They’re all aflutter. Hands on his arms. Cooing and flitting about like he’s better than chocolate.
You should see my new cutter. He’s such a beaut. Maybe you could take a look at another one I’m thinking about buying. He’s great in the saddle, but I’d love to get your opinion.
She rattles off the horse’s pedigree, and my heart sinks.
It’s worse that they’re into horses and talk Logan’s language.
The brunette twirls her hair with one finger while she gushes, “I haven’t seen you since Dallas. When are you gonna let me lope your horse again, sugar?”
I snort, and Logan turns to me like he just remembered I’m standing here.
I avert my eyes. I can’t look at him. Because I don’t want to see what’s there. Lust over these girls? Regret he’s with me this weekend instead of partying it up? Disappointment that I don’t fawn over him like his fan club?
He holds out his hand and says my name, but I ignore him and move toward the register. “I’ll meet you at the truck.” My stupid voice is quiet, barely a squeak. So different than the confidence his fangirls ooze.
My head is racing. One side of my brain tries to remind me that girls do actually lope riders’ horses—warm them up in the ring—before a competition, but the other side screams that this girl wants to ride Logan. If she hasn’t ridden him already.
When I reach his truck, I take a few calming breaths.
Talking to him last night about how he feels about me was somehow easier than this. Easier than dealing with his past.
Maybe it’s because I can’t compete with these kind of girls, confident women who go after what they want. Women who can afford twenty-thousand-dollar horses when I can barely afford flip-flops at Target.
What would it be like to get what I want? My whole life I’ve been scrambling to make ends meet and never quite achieving this goal. It’s exhausting.
Almost as exhausting as the idea that this run-in won’t be the last. How many more times will we run into girls Logan knows in the biblical sense?
I get that it’s not fair to hold his past against him, but I can’t help how much it hurts to think of him with other women.
It’s not as though this is the first time I’ve witnessed such a reunion. He had one yesterday with Renee. Except this feels different.
Because now I know what it’s like to have his hands on me. To melt under his kisses. To wake up to his warm body and gentle touches.
To feel like he’s mine.
But he’s not mine. And he probably never will be.
The Logan entourage exists the gas station, and I turn my back to them so I can blink away the sting in my eyes.
Will it always be like this? Will I always feel second best?
I need a distraction in the worst way, so I pull out my phone and notice I’ve missed a call from Dawn. I dial her up before I give in to my homicidal rage and murder someone.
“Joey, I’m glad you called! Do you remember that contractor…”
I try to listen to my cousin, I do, but I glance over my shoulder as the brunette says her “friend can join them for some fun if he wants” and my hearing cuts out like my circuit breaker overloaded.
I take deep breaths to keep the tears at bay, but this blow to my heart is an arrow to the bullseye, and the hope that had been building this week bursts. Suddenly I feel like that pathetic kid who tagged along behind Logan, following him wherever he went.
When my vision clears, the women have gone, and Logan is standing in front of me frowning, but I can’t speak. I’m too busy wondering if he’s envisioning a ménage with that girl and her friend.
It’s almost comical. I’ve barely lost my virginity, and Logan has women in different parts of the state who want to sex him up. It makes me embarrassed about the things I admitted to him last night, to only having done it once and learning moves from PornHub.
A tinny voice catches my attention, and I lift my phone back to my ear to find my cousin talking away. I let her yammer on as Logan quietly unlocks my door and I get in the truck.
Logan gets behind the wheel, and I feel him watching me, but I stare out the window. A whirlwind of colorful houses on stilts whiz by, and I try to make sounds like I’m listening to what my cousin is saying, but I don’t because I’m having an out-of-body experience.
We pull up to the condo, and I get off the phone still not having a clue what Dawn explained. I’ll have to call her back. She’ll think I’m a nutcase for not absorbing one moment of the conversation we just had.
When Logan parks, I reach for the door handle, but he puts his hand on my thigh.
A knot of emotion wells in my chest.
“Bitsy, I’m sorry about what happened back there.” I swallow, and he lets out a long sigh. “You know”—he coughs—“you know my history, better than I’d like, so I’m sure none of that shit comes as a surprise, but just to be clear, I’ve never been with those chicks, and I have no plans to search them out.”
At a loss for words, he pauses, so I fill it in. “So you haven’t had a ménage?” I don’t know why I ask. Maybe to torture myself with how our experiences are so vastly different.
When he cringes, my heart sinks.
“Fuck.” Dropping his head into his hands, he pushes his hair out of his face and turns to me. “This might be hard to believe because I know I have a terrible reputation, and I can only imagine what you’re thinking right now, but I haven’t been like that for a while.”
I want to believe him, more than I want my next breath, but there’ve been too many times where I’ve seen him sneak off, presumably to get laid, to give those words much credence.
Logan must see my reluctance because he grabs my hand and looks in my eyes. “I swear, Joey, I’m not sleeping around and partying anymore. I’m not that guy.”
He doesn’t shift or hedge or hesitate, and that lightens something in my chest.
I suppose it’s possible he’s cleaned up his act since I left for Florida.
Or you’re so strung out on him, like a drug addict, you want to believe him to get your next hit.
A rough palm smooths over my neck, and he tilts my head up to face him. “Jojo, let me prove it to you. Let me prove you can trust me.”
He’s saying the right words, and I want to believe the guy I’ve known my whole life, but I’m worried we’re too different. That he needs wild and willing strippers who can contort their bodies into exotic sex positions instead of the girl next door.
Uneasy, my pride still smarting, I lift a shoulder and offer him the same words he spoke last night. “How about we play it by ear? See where things take us?”
Because I have one week left to figure out if Logan and I stand a chance or if we’re too different after all.
22
Logan
The rich smell of dark chocolate wafts from the pan as I pour it into a thermos.
“Yum!” Renee leans over my shoulder, making me cringe.
“Careful. This is hot.” I move away from her, annoyed that she’s in my space when I’m pretty sure she spent the night with Patrick.
But her being with my buddy is not why I bolt across the kitchen.
I didn’t need Joey to spell out how she was feeling this afternoon after running into those women at the gas station. The hurt and embarrassment was stamped on her face. It gutted me.
When I realized Joey was standing a few feet away, listening to Tanya and her friends blather on, I reached for her. I wanted to throw my arm over her so Tanya knew I was with someone, but Jojo either ignored me or didn’t hear me when she stalked up to the register.
Tanya’s family spends a shitload of money on horses, and I didn’t want to risk offending her. Our ranch is too small to afford making enemies. I was cordial, but I didn’t hug her back or flirt like I usually would. Not that I wanted to. The only person on my mind since she stepped off that bus is Joey.
