Inevitable

by Angela Graham

  “You win! You win!” Oliver cried, a giant grin still covering his face.

  “Ahh, don’t give up so easily.” Jax laughed, smashing a pile of hay into Logan’s hair and grinding it in.

  Logan set Oliver down, and tugged the hay out of his hair. He then scooped up as much as he could hold and turned toward his kid brother, but stopped suddenly and glanced over at me. My giggling abruptly ended and I saw the flicker of mischief cross his eyes.

  I backed up, shaking my head. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He stalked toward me, a grin slowly covering his lips. I held up my hands when he was a mere foot away. Stepping back slowly, I turned, taking off to run but his strong arms locked around my waist.

  “No!” I yelled, giggling. “No, no, no!”

  His hand flew down the front of my sweater, hay scratching between my breasts, but the electricity of his touch as his hand slid down to my navel and back up overwhelmed any other sensation. I stumbled forward out of his grasp, pulling on my sweater to let it fall through and noticed Oliver doubled over, laughing hysterically.

  Really!” I puffed out a deep breath. Oliver turned and ran off to another barn, Jax and Marissa beside him snickering. Logan was still there staring at me while I pulled out more and more of the hay saturated in water and mud. Through my frustration, his hearty laughter was music to my ears. How could I be mad when he looked so stress-free and cheerful?

  “Like some help, sweetheart?” His laughter died to a soft chuckle as he drew closer. He stopped in front of me, his chuckle now completely gone, his gaze intense as he took his hand and picked out a piece of straw that had somehow found its way into my hair.

  Heat flooded my body, awakening the dozens of butterflies in my stomach. They fluttered wildly as his hand slowly slid from my hair down to my cheek. His touch was soft, and unbearably gentle. I knew it was wrong, yet I leaned into it. His warm palm cradled me, creating a need I never felt before. My body stood rigid, on full alert, attempting to put out the burning fire building inside me.

  Logan’s eyes flickered down to my lips and then slowly back up. I knew what he wanted, and for once, I couldn’t find the reasoning in my brain to stop it. His other hand gently reached up caressing my other cheek, holding me attentively in place.

  Just one small taste. It was all I wanted as his lips grew closer. I wasn’t sure who was moving but I could see it coming. I closed my eyes, inhaling his breath—only a whisper above my lips. It was sweet, warm, and minty. Exactly as I imagined it would be.

  Bravely, I placed my weak hands on his forearms and he closed the distance between us ghosting his soft lips against mine. His kiss was demanding, his lips parting mine and almost immediately, his tongue darted out looking for access. My head began pounding, my fingers gripping his coat, wanting to continue on this roller coaster of emotions and foreign touches. His hands moved from my cheeks back into my hair, one gripping the back of my head while the other continued down around to my backside. The moment he squeezed my ass, pulling me flush against him, I pushed away, gasping for air. I stepped back, needing to put more distance between us. My eyes wandered around the ground, looking anywhere but up at him.

  “Logan, we can’t,” I breathed, pulling myself back to reality.

  Every part of me wanted to kiss him back with the same passion that radiated off him, but I knew that he couldn’t give me what I needed. I wanted a real relationship with a shot at a real future. Logan was sweet and gorgeous and said all the right things, but I couldn’t let myself forget, he was also a notorious playboy. I was nothing more than a small-town teacher, searching for my epic love, not just hot sex with a friend. Fact was, even if I had gone home with Kurt before I learned he was psychotic, nothing would have happened. I just wasn’t that type of girl.

  With a deep breath, I looked up, knowing Logan would only grow bored of me within days if I ever gave into him, and it would ruin everything. I’d rather have him as my friend than endure awkward encounters after a few passionate nights together.

  “Take a chance, Cassandra,” he murmured. With a smile, he slowly ran his tongue across his lips and took a step closer. I stood there, wanting so badly to say yes, please, take me now, but I couldn’t. His hands ran over my shoulder, blazing a trail up my neck. I closed my eyes for only a second trying to contain the vibrations humming through me.

  Logan leaned in to my ear, placing a gentle kiss on my lobe. “Let me show you what you’ve been a missing. A night you’ll never forget.”

  I sighed, and looked away. We were not anywhere near being on the same page in life or with love.

  I smiled softly and met his gaze. “Exactly. The word there is night. What happens after that, huh?”

  “You know I consider you a friend. Why does that have to change? We get along, I enjoy your company and would very much like to take you to my bed. Does that need to have a label?”

  “That’s not what I’m looking for, Logan.”

  He ran his hands through his disheveled hair. Tiny pieces of straw still caught in his locks. “I am not the relationship type of guy, sweetheart. You know this, already.” His voice was gruff and unsteady. I could see what he wanted clear in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough.

  “I know, but I’m the relationship type of girl.” With a soft squeeze to his hand, I pulled away, to catch up with of Oliver.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Revealing

  After spending another hour walking from barn to barn, showing Oliver the many different animals, we were ready to find our pumpkins. Jax carried Oliver up the small wooden stepladder into a large wagon filled to the brim with hay. It was a short ride out to the pumpkin patch, located at the back of the farm. Logan was behind us on his phone, a business call he explained before answering it, but the look on his face made me wonder otherwise.

  Mark stood beside the wagon helping Julia up then held out his hand for me. With a don’t touch me glare, I slowly stepped up, balancing myself and climbed over the ledge, taking a seat next to Marisa. Oliver sat between Jax and Julia in the very back, eager for the tractor to start moving.

  “Sorry about that,” Logan said, sitting beside me, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles.

  “Everything all right?” I asked, squinting at the sun when I looked over at him.

  “Mh-hmm.” He nodded looking past me to Oliver.

  The rigid straw poked at my ankles, digging at my jeans and irritating my skin but memories of my childhood, riding in this very wagon, left me smiling despite it. Oliver let out a loud cheerful wail when the tractor began pulling us along the dirt trail.

  Logan sat quietly—looking out into the field—his eyebrows low and forehead marred with worry lines. He caught me staring and his expression softened into a sweet smile. I returned it and rested back against the rickety rails.

  His tantalizing scent of nature and fresh soap was enticing, especially when combined with the taste of his lips, which still lingered on mine. Without thinking, I ran my tongue slowly across my lips, savoring the final trace of him.

  As tormenting as it was to refuse him—and my body’s desires—I was proud of finding the self-control to end things. Looking back, I had no clue how I managed to pull away. The memory of his hand in my hair, while the other traced down my back and cupped my ass, still felt amazing. I hadn’t been touched like that in so long. I smiled to myself knowing later that night, Logan would be there in my dreams ready to show me exactly what could have been.

  My body flinched, jerking me from my lustful thoughts, when something pulled at a strand of my hair. With the tilt of my head, brows furrowed, I caught Logan holding up a piece of straw.

  “Just trying to help.” He smirked.

  I smiled, narrowing my eyes at his flirty expression. I was relieved my rejection didn’t offend him, and we seemed to being falling right back into where we were before the kiss, friends.

  “Sure you are.” I teased.

  I looked over at Oliver, ignoring Mark
’s eyes on me when my gaze flickered past him.

  “You having fun, Oliver?” I asked.

  “Yeah, today is the best day of my whole life!” He sat on his knees, wide-eyed, taking in the new environment. Julia’s arm was wrapped around him.

  It took less than five minutes for the tractor to come to a stop surrounded by hundreds of pumpkins, large and small.

  My camera was in my hands, ready to capture any moment worth remembering. So far I had at least a dozen of Logan from behind. I couldn’t seem to contain myself. The man filled out a pair of jeans in ways that were purely sinful. I walked around and snapped a picture of Oliver and Jax bending down to examine a tall pumpkin. I laughed when Oliver’s face twisted in disgust.

  “Yuck!” he shrieked. He kicked the pumpkin over, exposing the rot on the bottom.

  “Keep looking. You’ll find the perfect one.” Logan walked up behind him.

  Jax took Oliver’s hand, leading him farther down into the field. Logan turned back to me.

  “Did you find a pumpkin, sweetheart?”

  “Not yet.” I flashed a smile, and then walked away to find the right one. It took a few minutes of searching before I bent down lifting up one that looked to have potential. It was covered in mud on one side but I had a feeling underneath, it would be perfect. With a tissue from my coat pocket, I wiped away the dried gunk and smiled.

  Lugging it my arms, I walked back to the wagon, looking forward to cleaning it up and displaying it on my front porch.

  “I see you found a lovely one,” Logan said, helping me up into the wagon.

  After helping Oliver inside, he climbed in behind us and I burst out laughing at the pumpkin he now had in his arms. It was huge and had to be one of the biggest on the lot.

  “I did.” I managed to get out through my laughter as I sat down. I stared between him and his ridiculous pumpkin, stunned he could even lift it. “Okay, I have to ask, why would you want one that big?”

  “I told you, I enjoy carving.” He smiled, running his hands over its curves.

  “Cassandra, are you going to carve yours, too?” Oliver asked, glancing at my pumpkin.

  “Maybe next week. I like it the way it is for now.”

  He seemed pleased with my response and turned around, looking back at the field we were leaving behind.

  My gaze wandered over to Mark and Julia laughing happily. She was sitting between his legs holding a petite pumpkin, shiny and perfectly round with a long curly stem, Mark’s hands resting on her thighs. Julia looked down at the pumpkin as if it was the finest in the field, much like she looked at her boyfriend.

  Mark caught me staring and his eyes locked with mine. We had never talked after the day I moved out. I avoided him at all costs, and living in a small town, that was not an easy task. Hilary had heard his job transferred him to the city for a few months in the spring, which I assumed, was how he met Julia. I shot him a threatening scowl, and then looked away.

  What were the chances she would be dating him of all people? I liked Julia, she had that air about her that at times screamed spoiled, yet she was surprisingly friendly and sweet. Unfortunately, I worried her new relationship would put a damper on our friendship.

  Once we returned to the farm, Logan helped me, then Oliver, out of the wagon. I walked off to the side, waiting, and rolled my eyes at the scene of Julia and Mark posing for a photo together. His arm was wrapped around her waist, pumpkins resting at their feet, while his lips lingered on her cheek.

  What surprised me in that moment more than anything was that I felt no jealousy, only worry for Julia. I hated the idea of her being with a guy that was capable of breaking someone’s heart so easily. Oliver was up on Jax’s shoulders as he and Marissa walked toward me. I smiled, never before did I think I’d see the day that I could look at Mark, cozy with another girl, without feeling violently ill. It felt liberating.

  I awoke the next morning with a text from Logan, which was not unusual. It had become one my favorite parts of the morning.

  House is bought and paid for. Hope she hates it so I can spend a weekend tormenting u.

  I rolled my eyes, hit reply, and began typing.

  She’ll love the house and then you’ll be spending a long weekend as my little bitch!

  I placed the phone next to my pillow and lay back with a smile, waiting for his response. I knew it would be instant, it always was. My smile grew wider when the familiar ping chimed and I picked up my phone, laughing as I read his text.

  I’ll be your little bitch any day, sweetheart! Now get your fine ass up and have a splendid day at school.

  It was two weeks later when Oliver and I were playing in my backyard making mud pies. His idea, and I had learned by then, I had trouble telling him no.

  “What would happen if you took a bite?” Oliver snickered, packing the soggy dirt into a rusty old muffin tin I found in the tree house.

  “Try it and let me know.” I smiled. I used a stick to draw tiny designs on my mud-covered hands.

  “No way!”

  My back rested against a tree, legs out, wrapped in my winter jacket. The moment was completely tranquil.

  “Come on, just one bite?” I taunted, grabbing the plastic spoon and digging into our mess.

  “You’re crazy!” He giggled.

  “And you’re a mess.”

  His shirt was covered in dried mud and grass stains covered his knees. The sun was starting to go down and I still had papers to grade for tomorrow’s class so I stood up, wiping the butt of my jeans.

  “Let’s get you home.” I pulled him to his feet.

  Oliver helped clean up the litter of bowls and utensils covered in our creations before heading home. I walked over with him, wanting to see him inside safely.

  “Daddy’s in his office, you should come say hi,” he said. He opened the glass door on his back porch.

  Besides our morning texts, I had only seen Logan in person twice since the day at the farm, so I decided to go say a quick hello. We stepped out of our muddy shoes and I followed him up the steps.

  “Daddy’s office is over there,” Oliver said pointing down the hall, then disappeared inside his bedroom.

  Staring down the hall, my nerves began buzzing to life. I was alone in Logan’s house and he wasn’t expecting me. God knows what I might walk in on. The hardwood floor, covered in an ornate rug, creaked as I passed multiple doors. I followed a light shining from inside a room with the door partially opened. Logan’s voice boomed from inside. Anxiously shifting my weight, I peeked in to find Logan standing behind a dark-mahogany desk, staring out the window.

  He held his cell phone to his ear, his other hand shoved deep in his trouser pocket. He was still in his work clothes, a dark suit, but his white button-down shirt was untucked.

  “The answer is no.” Logan’s tone was cold and clipped and I was thankful to have not been on the receiving end of it. “I don’t know who you slept with to get this number, but you better lose it!”

  He turned with a growl and I quickly scurried away from the door not wanting to interrupt. I tiptoed back to Oliver’s room, my stomach clenched, ears scorching, and lightly knocked.

  He opened, wearing a clean shirt, but still in need of a good scrubbing.

  “Your dad’s busy. I’ll say hi another time.” I explained, keeping my voice hushed. “Make sure you get a bath tonight.”

  “Wait, you want to see something?” Oliver asked suddenly. He was beaming, excited to show me.

  “Another time, sweetie,” I whispered, glancing down the hall toward Logan’s office.

  “Oh, okay.” His smile fell. “Good-bye.” His forlorn expression broke my heart. He began shutting his door but I reached out, holding it open.

  “All right, let me see.” I smiled and instantly his eyes brightened, perking up.

  He grabbed my hand then whispered, “We have to be very quiet though. It’s a secret.”

  I sighed, looking nervously around as he led the way down the hall op
posite of Logan’s office.

  “It’s in here,” Oliver whispered, pushing open the last door in the hall and flicking on the light.

  With a quick look behind me, I tentatively stepped inside the room. My jaw dropped, taking in the sight of dozens of paintings stacked against the wall. They were mostly landscapes and a few portraits of Oliver as well as blank canvases. Two easels sat in the middle of the room, a metal stool next to them, positioned in front of a window. I walked farther inside, stopping at a large worktable which held rows of brushes, tubes of paints, and other miscellaneous supplies scattered on top.

  “Here it is,” Oliver whispered, standing in the corner tugging at a white blanket covering a pile.

  I walked slowly toward him, my feet heavy with worry. Would Logan be upset that we were in here? It looked so personal. I noticed a pair of Logan’s jeans thrown over a chair in the corner. They were splattered with dark colors of paint and the image of him wearing them and nothing else, flashed before me. I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like when he painted.

  Oliver finally had the cloth removed from the painting, and dropped it to the floor. I blinked a couple times, clearing my mind as I stood beside Oliver.

  “This is my mom,” he explained, his usual playful self fleeting as he gazed down at the portrait resting against the stack of other large canvases behind it.

  The painting was a single portrait of the woman. It was extraordinary. She had long glossy-black hair that fell slightly around her shoulders. Her features were soft yet held a toughness to them, her smile barely visible. She looked serious almost sorrowing. I winced when I noticed her eyes—Oliver’s eyes.

  “She’s pretty, huh?” he asked, looking up at me proudly.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “What are you doing in here?” Logan snapped. “You know this isn’t a playroom!”

  Oliver and I turned, but Logan’s gaze was on his son as if I didn’t exist.