She had a black turtleneck dress that was fitted on the top and the skirt flared out around the tops of her thighs. She’d paired it with her gray thigh-high boots that had a nice heel on them so Logan wouldn’t tower over her five-foot-four-inch frame. She knew he was six-three thanks to an article she’d read in GQ over the summer. She left her hair down hanging around her shoulders. She had straight hair that didn’t hold a curl very well so she pretty much always wore it straight.
Her house was on Logan’s estate outside of Whiskey River. He’d bought five acres and put a huge mansion on it along with the guesthouse she lived in. There was a house for the grounds keeper and a house for his horse trainer behind the stable and arena where he kept riding horses.
Avery kept an eye on everyone on the property and answered all of their queries and solved their housekeeping issues if there were any. She had also arranged for the houses on the property to be decorated for Christmas by a crew she’d hired from Austin who were driving over to do it.
She heard the knock on her front door and even though she was ready she made herself wait a moment before rushing to the door. She didn’t want him to think she’d been sitting around waiting for him.
She put on her lipstick, blotted it and then walked slowly down the short hallway from the powder room to the foyer.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.
Logan smiled when he saw her. He wore a pair of dress slacks that seemed like they must be tailor-made for him because they fit him so perfectly. He had on a matching black jacket and a button-down shirt with a light gray tie that made his blue eyes seem stormy.
“I really like how homey you’ve made this house,” he said, gesturing to her front porch with the bench and fall-themed garland. She would be changing it to Christmas in the next few days.
“Thanks,” she said. “Let me grab my purse and I’ll be ready to go.”
Since it was Texas, it was cool but not cold enough for her winter coat and the sweater dress she wore would keep her warm enough. She looked at herself in the hall mirror one last time, checking her teeth for lipstick before she put her purse over her shoulder and walked out. She closed and locked the door.
“You look nice tonight,” he said.
He seemed understated, like he was trying to be someone he wasn’t. Was he acting with her? Trying to be a character he thought would make her comfortable?
“You do too, but then that’s sort of acknowledged, isn’t it?” she asked, knowing she had to break the ice and get them past this thing that she’d put between them by making her comments earlier and then getting upset when he’d teased her.
“How is that?” he asked, taking her elbow and leading her down the path toward his Corvette.
He held open the door for her and she turned to him. “One of the sexiest men alive should look nice.”
She winked at him as she sat down and swung her legs into the car. He smiled and she noticed his gaze lingered on her legs before he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
He got in the car and didn’t bother to put the keys in the ignition but turned to her, leaning one arm on the seat behind and the other on the steering wheel. The woodsy scent of his cologne smelled so good she took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry about teasing you earlier,” he said. “Being back here makes me…well not myself. I’m sort of stuck in this mindset of my teenage self and I always feel not good enough. So teasing you was just my way of making myself feel better. It wasn’t even you but one of the old biddies on your committee who made me feel that way.”
She had heard some of the stories and she knew about his past and his dad. She put her hand on his thigh, intending the gesture to be comforting. “It’s okay. I like you and so saying outrageous things is my way of reminding myself that you aren’t back here for long and that I need to remember you’re my boss.”
He nodded. “So should we start over?”
“That’d be great,” she said. “Thanks for suggesting dinner after we do the site review.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, turning to put his seat belt on and starting the car.
And even though she’d suggested that they do this professionally she was a bit disappointed because she wanted to know what it felt like to be in his arms. She shook her head as the radio came on. She was being silly and there was no time for that.
“Too soon for Christmas?” he asked.
She quirked her head to the side.
“The radio. I saw you shake your head,” he mentioned.
“It’s up to you. I love Christmas but don’t want it to start too soon because then the countdown will begin and it will go too fast.”
“I don’t want this to go too fast,” he said, switching the station to the local country one.
Chapter Three
Avery noticed as soon as they entered Harwood House that everyone was excited to meet Logan. It was kind of funny watching him change into what she was now calling his superstar persona. He was a laid-back hometown boy shaking hands, posing for selfies and talking about Whiskey River to all of the staff and Ginger Miller, the events manager for Harwood House, who gave them the tour of the ballroom.
The hotel had started to get in the holiday spirit and garland had been draped on the main stairwell leading up to the rooms. In the barn where the ballroom was they hadn’t started decorating but Avery had been assured that they were going to start tomorrow. She’d gone over where the large Christmas tree should be placed as well as the stage, dance floor and bars. The tables would be around the dance floor and the food stations nestled between the bars.
Avery noticed that Ginger flirted not so subtly with Logan, so she finally had to link her arm through his. She planned on saying she did it to rescue him and not acknowledge—even to herself—that she’d been the tiniest bit jealous.
“Don’t we have dinner reservations?” Avery asked, looking up at Logan.
He arched one eyebrow at her and glanced pointedly at her arm looped through his, but he didn’t pull away. “I believe we do. At Baron’s Steakhouse. I’m sorry, Ginger. We’ll have to finish this conversation another time.”
“Of course, Logan. It is so nice to see you aren’t one of those celebrities who has forgotten where he came from,” she said.
“Avery is a big part of that. She’s the one who keeps me up to date on what’s going on around here and who needs our help. I don’t know what I’d do without her,” Logan said.
He put his hands over hers, which sent a tingle up her arm, and she felt herself blushing. “I just like to be thorough.”
“You definitely are,” Logan said.
“Avery has done a wonderful job planning the gala for the WOWR,” Ginger said. “I think we have all been impressed by her organizational skills.”
“Thanks,” Avery said. “I think we are ready for Saturday evening. I’ll be here early on Saturday just to make sure that everything is on schedule.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll be here at six a.m. Will you be with Avery?” Ginger asked.
“At six a.m.? I don’t think so,” Logan replied. “I trust Avery won’t need me.”
She shook her head. She didn’t need him here at all getting her hot and bothered and distracting her. She’d thought that he might need rescuing from Ginger but it was clear he didn’t. “I don’t. I’m going to check on the foyer to see where we are going to place the registration table and the silent auction posters I’ve had made up.”
She walked away leaving Logan to Ginger who seemed to think he hung the moon. She thought he liked the attention as she heard him chuckle when she exited the ballroom. “Oh, Logan, you’re so witty,” Avery said, in a high-pitched voice, mimicking Ginger.
“Don’t be catty,” a woman’s voice said. Avery glanced over her shoulder but saw she was alone in the foyer. There was the faint scent of lavender in the air, which was odd because they weren’t close to the lavender fields that lay on the southwestern side of
town.
She shook her head. Maybe it was her conscience keeping her in line. She pulled a small notebook from her purse and jotted down a sketch of where she wanted everything placed. She wondered if they had enough tables to set up a separate registration line for local VIPs like the mayor, Wyatt Kelly—CEO of Kelly Boots—and the Banner Bread CEO. It might be nice to have a table for their platinum donors to check in at. Logan and Ginger were still talking in the ballroom.
“Obviously he doesn’t need my protection from her,” Avery muttered under her breath while walking out of the foyer toward the hallway that contained the coat-check room and the storage closest. When she opened the door, she smelled the lavender again and ignored it, moving further in the room and counting the tables for the sign-in stations.
“Avery?”
“Down here,” she called back to Logan.
She moved a little further into the room and there were four tables, which might work, but she’d only asked for linen for three. She pulled out her phone and dictated a note to contact the linen service in the morning just as Logan walked into the storage room.
“I thought we had a reservation,” he said. “Then you disappeared.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself and I didn’t want to interfere,” she said. “Besides you did say we were here to work.”
“I did, didn’t I?” he asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind himself. “Maybe I said that because you made it clear that work was all we could have between us.”
“Of course it is,” she said. When was she going to learn to keep her smart mouth shut?
“Then what’s the problem with me chatting with Ginger?”
“Nothing,” Avery said. “There is no problem at all.”
Except she didn’t feel that way, not really. She hated seeing the pretty brunette events manager batting her eyelashes at Logan and talking about their high school days and how she’d always known he’d make something of himself. Avery hadn’t known Logan in high school but his younger brother Finn had been in her class.
“Avery?” he asked, arching an eyebrow again.
She shook her head, brushing past him. The scent of lavender was even stronger now. “Do you smell that? I think it’s lavender. I wonder if someone left a sachet in here.”
Logan took a deep breath as Avery reached the closed storage room door and tried to the handle but it was stuck. It wouldn’t move. She looked at the locking mechanism and it wasn’t locked.
“I do smell it,” he said.
“I can’t get the door open,” Avery said.
“Let me try.”
Logan reached around her, his arm brushing her shoulder, his body brushing the left side of her body as he tried the door. And she couldn’t smell the lavender anymore—just his woodsy cologne.
“It’s jammed,” he said, tugging hard on it.
*
Trapped in a closet with his way-too-attractive-assistant, he could think of worse ways to spend an evening. But he could see that Avery was getting anxious.
“Are you claustrophobic?” he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder and directing her to the middle of the storage space where it wasn’t as cluttered.
“That’s not rational,” she said. “My dad is a big one for logic and I know that the walls aren’t closing in on me. That I can easily get out of here. I mean, someone will find us long before we run out of air, right? I mean we can’t—” She clapped her hand over her mouth and stood there looking at him.
It was the first time he’d seen her ruffled.
“Definitely. The door opens in, but I can try to break it,” he suggested.
She shook her head and then took her hand from her mouth and shook her arms, letting them both drop to her sides. He pulled his cell phone out and saw that he had no signal.
“Check your phone,” he said. Maybe it was just his phone.
“What?” she asked, clearly still in panic mode. She pulled her phone from her handbag and cursed. “No signal. Ginger will definitely come looking for us,” she said. “Distract me.”
An image of her in his arms, her mouth under his, popped into his head. He closed his eyes. That wasn’t what she’d meant. And what did it say about him that that was where his mind had gone?
“How?”
“Talk to me. Tell me something I don’t know about you,” she said.
Well that was a can of worms he wasn’t interested in opening up. “I don’t like Christmas.”
“What?” she asked. “That’s not true. You sent me a long list of things you wanted done for the holiday at your house and through the charity.”
“I did. But I really don’t like it,” he said, turning his back on her and pacing as far as he could in the small cramped space. It wasn’t that far—a mere five steps and then he pivoted, seeing her standing there with her arms wrapped around her waist again.
“Do you like Christmas?” he asked.
“Sure. I mean there’s so much good cheer in town and I love the decorations and how everyone seems to smile more easily.”
He nodded. Those were the very reasons he hated it. Christmas was the one time of year that he’d found it hard to pretend that his family was like everyone else’s. In the Barrels where he’d grown up everyone was struggling to get by, but at the holidays the other kids’ parents seemed to make an effort. Like the rest of the year the Calloways were like everyone else except for more black eyes and bruises but at Christmas it was obvious they weren’t and everyone felt like they needed to help them out more.
“Logan? You okay?” she asked.
He nodded again. No way was he unloading all that crap on her. “So what’s your favorite part of the holiday in Whiskey River?”
“Christmas on the Square. I love the tree lighting of course and seeing all the vendors and the time they take to make something special for the holidays. Savannah is about to explode waiting for Kelly Boots to unveil their holiday design this year. She buys them every year.”
“That’s right. I have a few pairs,” he said. Thinking about how as a boy they were always too expensive. As soon as he’d had the money he started buying all their limited edition boots even though he wasn’t a cowboy and really didn’t wear them unless he came back to Whiskey River and then he was doing it to show off.
“Of course you do. You’re a movie star,” she said. “The only thing missing from Christmas on the Square is wintry weather.”
“You want it to be cold and icy?”
She shook her head. “I wish it would snow. We looked into getting a snow machine for the town square but it was cost-prohibitive. The committee has a pretty tight budget so we can make sure all the profits from the events go to charity.”
“That makes sense,” he said. He walked back over to her. “But you wish it would snow?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “But this year my parents and I are meeting in a ski resort so I’ll finally be able to check that off my bucket list.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Are you close to your parents?” he asked.
She shrugged. “As close as I can be. They both are scientists. So their work is demanding and takes up a lot of their time.”
He didn’t think he knew a single scientist. There wasn’t a research facility in Whiskey River and he recalled she’d moved to the area in high school. “Why did you move here?”
“It was exactly halfway between both of their places of work,” she said. “My parents divided everything fifty-fifty. And that includes parenting so they needed to both be able to get back to their labs and Whiskey River made the most sense. Though I was starting to be independent enough not to need as much supervision.”
He shook his head. Sounded like a cold way to grow up, but he suspected he was projecting his own issues with parents onto her. “That sounds…nice.”
“Nice? I guess. It led to me doing some rebellious things,” she said. “I mean they both were distracted when they were with me…in my defense.”
/> He smiled at the way she said it. She was so feisty he could imagine her being more than a little rebellious.
“What’d you do?”
“Nothing you’d think was adventurous.”
“Tell me so I can judge for myself,” he said.
She shook her head. “Ugh. I hate that we are trapped in here.”
“I don’t,” he admitted.
“Of course not, you didn’t just say something you didn’t mean to,” she said, going back to the door to try it again. The handle didn’t budge no matter how she tried to turn it.
He moved closer intending to try opening it again as well but she turned into his arms, both of them going a little off balance and he caught her, looking down into those pretty blue eyes of hers. Watching her lips part—even though his conscience was saying to stop—a little voice whispered for him to go for it. To take the kiss that he’d been thinking about since he realized they were trapped in this room.
*
Avery’s hands were wedged between their bodies and she remembered Savannah’s comment about his muscles. Definitely not airbrushed. She could feel the solidness of him under her fingers. She looked up into his blue-gray eyes that seemed to have turned steel gray. He didn’t give much away in his expression, which surprised her given that he was an actor. But maybe it shouldn’t have. This was real life.
He brought his hand up, his fingers feathering lightly over her check as he caressed her face. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
She shook her head. She had a chance to kiss Logan Calloway. Was she really going to stay no? But she knew that it wasn’t the celebrity she wanted to kiss but the man who’d confessed to secretly hating Christmas. She knew a lot about his past from town gossip. The man who made sure that the kids in Whiskey River didn’t grow up hating the holiday the way he did. And she knew that there was so much more to him than classical good looks and his rock-hard, hot bod. But none of that mattered. She brought her hand up to his jaw. Rubbed her fingers over the light stubble there. The whiskers abraded her fingers, contrasting with smoothness of his skin.
“You have really nice skin,” she muttered. How did he get his skin so soft?
Once Upon a Texas Christmas Page 3
