by R. C. Martin
“Yeah, it was really fun.”
“Is that all I get? No details? We were here when you left. You wore a suit. Swanky parties require details.”
“Okay—when I walked in, her boss was kissing her. After Logan ran off, I called him a jackass, punched him in the face, and then went after her. We talked it out, went back to the party, and had a good time.”
When she doesn’t say anything in response, I look at her and find her gawking at me. I start to laugh, which pulls her out of her state of speechlessness. “You punched her boss?”
“Yeah. He deserved it.”
She claps her hand over her mouth as she begins to laugh. “Oh, my god.” She pauses to catch her breath. “You punched her boss. And called him names? Wow, Roman. You’re, like, in love,” she declares, folding her arms across her chest.
I shrug in response, hiding my sly smirk as I continue with my task.
“Whoa—what was that?” asks Ashton.
“What was what?”
“You shrugged. She said, you’re, like, in love, and you shrugged.”
I shrug again and then watch as all three of them come to the same conclusion at the exact same time. I fight my amusement at their shared shock. “You’re in love with The Princess?”
“Is that what you guys call me behind my back?” All four of us turn at the sound of Logan’s voice. She’s got her purse strapped over her shoulder, a six pack of New Belgium beer in each hand, and she looks beautiful, as always. Her hair is pulled back into a fancy ponytail, her tanned arms and legs are exposed in her short, red sundress, and the smile that lights her eyes makes me think she feels mischievous having walked in on this conversation. “Something tells me I should be offended, but I kind of like it.”
“Hey, M.”
“Hi, Double-O,” she says as she makes her way towards me. Ashton and Ryan step aside as she passes and they all watch as she comes to greet me with a kiss. “I brought dark and wheat,” she tells me, showing off the beer. “And I came early so that maybe I could help. You know, graduate from stir-fry?” She pauses as she looks into the bowl in front of me, where my hands are currently covered in raw meat, eggs, and seasoning. “Except, I don’t want to do that. That’s gross.”
“It’s not gross, it’s fun. Put your stuff down, I’ll show you. Ryan, want to take over for me? I’ll get started on the turkey if you want to turn this into patties,” I say, nodding toward the mixture.
“Sure.”
“I guess I should make myself useful, too. I’ll start on the coleslaw,” Trisha volunteers.
Soon, the kitchen is full of activity. Ryan and Trisha work side by side as Logan watches me throw all of our necessary ingredients into a big bowl. Ashton disappears and as music starts to spill into the room, I know why. When he comes back, he snatches a box of cereal from the top of the fridge and proceeds to eat it right out of the box.
“Aren’t you going to help?” asks Logan, not unkindly.
“I did. I provided the background music.”
“Ashton doesn’t really cook. At least, nothing that requires more than three ingredients. He likes to stick to the basics,” says Trisha.
“Wait, aren’t you, like, a nutrition expert or something? Shouldn’t you know how to cook?”
Ryan, Trisha, and I all laugh. “You would think, right?” I smirk back at him and he shakes his head at me in response. “Alright, enough about him. Come here,” I say, guiding Logan into the space between me and the counter. “Take your rings off.”
“You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?” she asks, doing as she’s told. “Can’t we use a spoon?”
“No way; burgers are mixed with your hands. Right guys?” Logan rolls her eyes when everyone pipes in their agreement. “See? What’d I tell you?” As I speak, I take hold of her hands and guide them into the bowl. She gasps, pressing her back against my front in an act of resistance as her fingers sink into the meat. I chuckle as I press my scruffy cheek against hers. “You got this,” I whisper.
“This is disgusting,” she whines.
“It’s going to taste delicious.”
“I don’t care. It’s squishy and disgusting.”
“But you’re doing it with me,” I whisper. “So it’s disgustingly fun, right?” I watch as she bites her lip, in attempt to hide her smile, before she turns her face to look at mine. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Shut up,” she giggles before turning her focus to the bowl. “It’s getting under my nails. I hate you.”
“No you don’t,” I laugh. “Just wait. You’re going to be so proud when these end up being the best turkey burgers you’ve ever had.”
“Is that so?” I nod as I continue to help her mix. She tilts her head back until it’s rested on my shoulder. Her lips graze the side of my face as she murmurs,“Well, if you keep whispering in my ear, turkey burgers will not be what I’m craving when we’re done here.”
Ashton clears his throat and Logan and I twist around to see what’s up. Apparently, we are. All eyes are on us. It’s like our first fake date all over again. “Do you two need the room?” Ryan jests.
Logan and I exchange a look and then laugh, shifting our focus back to the bowl as we ignore my friends. “Oh, speaking of being proud, I didn’t tell you! Wait—shit—there’s a reason I didn’t tell you. Have you heard from Daph since yesterday?”
“No, why? What didn’t you tell me?”
“Really? She hasn’t tried calling you at all?” she asks, sidestepping my questions.
“No. What’s going on?”
“I can’t tell you,” she says as her body goes stock-still.
“You can’t or you won’t? Is this another one of those girl code things, or whatever?”
“Not exactly,” she says evasively. “Anyway, I guess I’ll just have to tell you later.”
“What? You can’t bait me like that. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Hey, don’t you think this is mixed well enough?”
“Logan,” I mutter, unwilling to let her get away with avoiding my questions.
“Roman?” she says mockingly.
In any other situation, I would tickle the information out of her. I know that I could. However, with my hands covered in turkey, I can’t very well do that. I think about trying to see if I can somehow manage to tickle her neck, but then I get an even better idea.
“Logan, what’s going on?” I ask softly before pressing my lips against the side of her neck.
“Nothing. My story will have to keep. Just forget I said anything.”
I smile, satisfied that her answer has given me the green light to follow through with my plan. I press another kiss against her neck before I take a breath and blow a raspberry against her skin. She gasps, Ashton mumbles something about us needing a room, and Ryan laughs.
“Want to rethink your answer?”
“Roman Cornelius Holloway—I will smear this squishy turkey all over your face!”
“I’d like to see you try,” I chuckle, locking her firmly between my arms. “Now, what aren’t you telling me?” She turns her head to the side so that I can see it when she sticks her tongue out before she looks away from me. I grin before I blow another raspberry, this one on the back of her shoulder.
“Ew,” she laughs. “Stop!” I blow another one, just below her ear. “Okay! You win,” she cries, trying to wiggle out of my grasp. “But I can’t tell you. We have to call Daph. Can we go to your room?”
“Yes. Please,” answers Ashton. “You guys flirt ten times more than you ever bickered. It’s remarkable, really.”
“Be nice,” says Trisha. “It’s cute. Right Ryan?”
“Sure, yeah,” he mutters. As Logan and I move to the sink to wash our hands, I hear the kiss he’s earned as his reward for answering correctly.
“We’ll be right back,” I announce as we make our way out of the kitchen.
Logan swipes her phone from out of her purse as we pass through the dining roo
m. When we’ve made it to my bedroom, I close us inside. I’m not sure if I should be worried about what’s coming or not. I assume it can’t be all that bad if I haven’t heard from Daphne myself; then again, we’ve both had our hands full with our new relationships and we haven’t hung out just the two of us in a few weeks. Unless you count the car ride to the airport—where she hardly spoke two sentences.
Yeah. Pretty sure that doesn’t count.
“Hey, Daph, it’s me,” Logan speaks into the phone. “How are you? How’d it go after—?”
I watch as her face lights up in response to whatever it is my sister is saying.
“I told you!”
She laughs and I start to think that maybe what I’m waiting to hear is actually really good news.
“So, I was wondering if you wanted to tell Roman? It’s just—I don’t know how long I can keep it a secret before he tortures it out of me. Sorry if that makes me a totally lame bestie but—yeah? Okay.”
She hands me the phone and I take it reluctantly.
“Hello?”
“You’ve ruined her—you know that, right?” Daphne teases. I can hear the smile in her voice.
“What?” I ask with an amused scowl.
“Now that you two are all in love she’ll want to tell you everything about everything all the time.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s fine,” she laughs. “I know the feeling well. Anyway. Don’t be mad at me for telling you over the phone, okay? And you have to promise not to tell anyone else. We aren’t ready for everyone to know, yet.”
“We?” I keep my eyes trained on Logan as I wait for Daphne to reveal this big secret.
“Yeah. Do you promise?”
“Yes, yes, of course. What is it?”
“Trevor and I are going to have a baby.”
“You what?” My heart rate picks up as I replay her words in my head. For a moment, I can’t tell whether or not I’m excited or panicked or both. The last time my sister was pregnant, her world sort of imploded.
“I’m pregnant, Corny.”
I look at Logan and she nods, gesturing with her hands, encouraging me to say something. What exactly I’m supposed to say, I’m not sure. “Um—did you plan this?” I ask when no other words come to mind. I haven’t figured out the right way to respond. I don’t know how she feels about being pregnant again. Though, by the look on Logan’s face, my question was the wrong one.
“Are you being serious right now?” she asks, seemingly as appalled as Logan appears. “No, Rome.”
“Well—are you okay?” I stutter, hoping this question is safer.
“Yeah. I’m happy. We’re happy. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared and nervous and a bit anxious; actually, there are a lot of feelings. Feelings and estrogen and tears and vomit—but, yeah,” she emits a small laugh. “I’m okay. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow just to confirm.”
“Wow,” I sigh, still trying to wrap my mind around the news.
“You’re going to be an uncle, Rome.”
I don’t know why, but that does it. The first time, we didn’t use words like mom and uncle or grandparents. He was just the baby. We didn’t get attached. We didn’t give him nicknames. Daphne hated when I touched her belly, so I didn’t. Now I’m going to be an uncle. Daphne and Trevor are going to be parents. If the love they have for each other is any indication, I know their child will be more cared for than any other baby around.
“Congratulations, sis. You’re going to be an awesome mom.”
Logan visibly relaxes and wraps her arms around my waist as she kisses my cheek. I guess I finally said the right thing.
“Thanks, Rome. That means a lot.”
We talk for a couple more minutes before she has to go. When I hang up, Logan kisses me. “Good Lord, I thought you were going to blow it for a second. Nice recovery.”
“I wasn’t expecting that. Thanks for the warning.”
“Ha! You got as much warning as I got mister,” she says, jabbing her finger at my chest. “Now I can tell you my half of the story. I haven’t forgotten about my end of the deal, you know? Your condition for being my fake boyfriend? Well—I think we’re this close.”
She pulls me to the bed and we both sit. She fidgets with my hands as she tells me about the conversation she had with Daphne on the side of the interstate yesterday afternoon. I listen in awe. I’m amazed. By her—of course—but, more than that, I’m amazed with God. It’s like Logan was His mouthpiece yesterday. The joy she feels having embraced that moment, that’s the joy of the Lord. To see that on her face…
“What? What’s that look for?”
I reach out and wrap my arms around her. She holds me in return and for a second, neither of us speaks.
“I love you,” I say, breaking the silence.
She squeezes me tighter, like a reflex to my admission, and a smile tugs at my lips.
“I love you, too.”
It was actually a bit of a relief, not having to come into the office Monday morning. After that kiss with Judah, I haven’t exactly been looking forward to seeing him. Seeing him means talking to him and that’s not really high on my list of most desired activities. Then this morning, as I stood staring into my closet, I remembered that I’m Logan Schwartz, who cowers to no one; not to mention, I didn’t do anything wrong. He did.
I don a pair of my sexiest panties with a matching bra before I hunt for the perfect outfit for work today. I decide on my navy pencil skirt, the one with the borderline outrageous slit; my sleeveless white top, the one that ties in a bow at my neck; and my nude, peep-toe stilettos. I adorn my wrists with bracelets, slap on some earrings, and leave my hair down and straight. I call Roman on my way to the office. By the time I reach my destination, I feel just as great as I look.
I’m one of the first to arrive, aside from Eddalyn, Judah, and Kent. Edda’s door is shut when I enter but when I pass Kent’s office, he stops me to ask how the rest of my weekend was. We chat for a couple minutes before I head to my desk. Every part of me is abuzz, wondering if Judah will come to me, first. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do, but I suppose he’s proven to only be a gentleman when it suits him.
Turns out that this morning, it doesn’t suit him.
As soon as everyone is in, we head to the conference room for our weekly meeting. We touch briefly on the success of The Archibald’s party and Judah provides an update on what is left for us to complete before the project is finished. Miranda and Richard fill us in on the progress of their latest work and Edda announces a few things that might be in the works. All in all, it’s a pretty short meeting, for which I am grateful. Every other minute I find myself thinking of Judah and whether or not he intends to apologize.
Miranda takes hold of my elbow, holding me back as everyone else leaves the room. When Brittany and Kim see that we’ve stayed behind, they circle back to join us. I found out Saturday night that even though Judah decided to kiss me at the bar, where anyone could have seen us, only Miranda actually saw it happen. No one would have been the wiser had it not been for my White Knight, throwing punches in my honor. Even still, that was over so fast there wasn’t really much to see.
“Holy shit, Logan, you could cut the tension in this office with a knife!” whispers Miranda. “Have you two spoken?”
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
“You have to eventually. I mean, we’ve still got work to do,” says Kim.
“I know. I was kind of hoping he’d be man enough to come to me.”
“Honey, that’s never going to happen,” says Brittany with a laugh. “His bruised ego, not to mention his bruised face, will never cave.”
I lift my chin, suddenly incredibly annoyed that I have to be the bigger person, and start for the door. “Fine,” I say over my shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to deal with this myself.” I head straight for his temporary office and shut the door behind me. He looks up as the door clicks closed.
&
nbsp; “Logan,” he states as he stands. “Is there something I can help you with?”
I press my hands against my hips as I glare at him. “Yes, Judah. As a matter of fact—you could apologize to me.”
My jaw drops and I instantly feel less emboldened when he starts to chuckle.
“Logan, if you’re referring to Saturday night, then no—I will not apologize.”
“Excuse me?”
He leans forward, propping himself against his fists, which he rests on top of his desk. “I don’t, nor will I ever, apologize for kissing a beautiful woman. Especially not one who kissed me back.”
My heart thuds angrily in my chest as a blush creeps into my cheeks. I can’t argue with him. I did kiss him back. I wish with every fiber of my being that I hadn’t, but I can’t undo the past. When he arches an eyebrow at me, I know he’s silently begging for me to challenge him, but I can’t. Instead, I turn around and begin to make my exit.
As soon as my hand is on the door handle, I change my mind.
“You know what?” I ask as I spin to face him once more. “You’re right. You caught me off guard and my body betrayed me for a fraction of a second. That doesn’t make it right! You shouldn’t have kissed me and you know it.”
“It was bound to happen eventually and you know it,” he argues, stepping out from behind the desk. My pulse spikes as he draws closer. “You know what I want, Logan. You can no longer deny that a part of you wants the same thing. That kiss was proof.”
“You’re crazy!”
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, reaching up to trace his finger along my jawline.
Arrogant son of a bitch!
I bat his hand away and a smirk tugs at his lips. “You know what I want? More!” I declare. “I want more than your three piece suits and your fancy Porsche and your champagne lunches. I want more than your stupidly gorgeous gray eyes that, I’ll admit, make me warm and tingly with a single glance. I want more than promises of passion and pretty shallow words that are meant to make me feel good. I want to be more than your play thing!”
A smile graces my face as I think of Roman and my anger begins to subside. “I want cooking lessons and movie nights. I want to walk down the street holding hands and go to the bar with our friends, stealing kisses every five minutes. I want to have conversations about my day and the projects that I’m working on; but I also want to talk about math or science and I want to be confused but intrigued because it’s something different, something that matters to the person I care about. I want to be a study buddy and a make-out buddy. I want it all, Judah. I want love. Can you give me that?”
