by Susan Stoker
Grace breathed out a sigh of relief at the wink Felicity threw her way. It wasn’t that she thought the other woman would spill the beans about her starting college classes again, but with Felicity, she could never be sure what would come out of her mouth. Unlike her, she didn’t seem to worry about pleasing anyone else or following social norms.
“Hi, Cole,” Grace said looking up at the big man. “Great turnout tonight.”
“Yeah. I think we definitely need to do this more often,” he agreed. “Hey, Leese, you got a second?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I had an inquiry today that I want to talk to you about.”
“Right now?” Felicity asked, her brows scrunched up in confusion.
“Yeah.”
“All right then. I’ll be right back. You’ll be okay?” Felicity asked Grace.
“Of course. Go. I’ll be fine.”
Grace didn’t see the glance Cole shot over her head before he walked away with her best friend.
“Hey, Grace.”
She startled so bad, she almost dropped the glass in her hand. Turning, she saw the man she couldn’t get out of her head standing next to her. He’d obviously come up right before Cole and Felicity had left, and she hadn’t heard him over the music.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Uh, hi, Logan.”
“You look good.”
“Thanks. You too.” Ugh. This conversation was not going well.
“Got a second to talk?”
Grace looked around, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She’d told herself earlier that she wanted to talk to Logan once and for all, clear the air, find out what she’d done to make him lie to her face before walking away, but having him standing in front of her, looking so . . . masculine . . . she suddenly changed her mind. She never wanted to talk to him again. Never wanted to know what she’d done wrong to make him dump her as he had. Gah, she was so weak. “Uh, now? The music is kinda loud.”
“Yeah, now. And Cole and Felicity won’t mind if we use one of their offices.”
Grace’s breath got stuck in her throat. Before she could answer, Logan held out his hand as if he knew she wanted to bolt. “Please?”
It was the please that did it. Without thought, Grace put her hand in his. The warmth of his skin and the feel of his calloused palm against hers, made tears spring to her eyes. His hand closed around hers and he said, “Come on.”
As she followed behind him, letting him lead her out of the gym and into the quiet hallway, Grace let the experience soak into her soul. It had been so long since she’d felt like this. The last time she’d held his hand, as a matter of fact. They’d been at a football game at the high school, and someone standing behind her had spilled their entire soda down the back of her shirt. She’d looked down at herself in disbelief, knowing her mother was going to blame her for ruining the designer blouse. Logan had seen what had happened from a few rows behind her, elbowed his way to her row, chewed out the boy behind her, taken her hand, and led her down the bleachers.
He’d taken care of her then, and she had the same feeling back then as she did now. As if as long as Logan Anderson held her hand, she could take on the world.
Chapter Eight
Logan didn’t say a word as he headed for Cole’s office. The feel of Grace’s hand in his reminded him of high school. He hadn’t held her hand often, only a few times that he could remember, but feeling her warm palm in his after all the years that had gone by made him recall one time in particular.
They’d been at a football game and some douche had spilled his drink down her shirt. He’d seen it happen from a few rows behind her, where he’d been watching her as usual, and had moved before he knew what he was doing. He’d grabbed hold of her hand, just as he was doing now, and towed her out of the bleachers to the concession stand. He’d grabbed a ton of napkins and taken her to the parking lot, near his truck.
He’d helped her try to dry off, which hadn’t worked very well. Finally, realizing she’d be extremely uncomfortable if she didn’t change shirts, he’d grabbed an extra T-shirt he’d had in his truck. He’d turned his back while she’d put it on. The thing had dwarfed her, it was so big. They’d laughed, and he’d helped her tie the extra material in a knot at her stomach.
The feeling he’d had seeing her wearing his shirt, smiling up at him, when his fingers had brushed against the warm skin of her belly, had stuck with him for years. He’d realized at that moment that his feelings toward his history tutor had definitely switched from tolerance, to respect, and finally to protectiveness and affection.
Back then he didn’t think he had anything to offer her. She lived on the other side of the city, the side with the large houses and the parents who had more money than they knew what to do with. But he was a different person now. Successful, more sure of himself . . . and he still wanted her.
Logan twisted the doorknob of Cole’s office and led them inside, shutting the door behind them. He looked around. Typical of Cole, it was a mess. There were papers stacked everywhere. The bookcase against one wall was chock-full of books, and there wasn’t an ounce of empty space on his desk.
Luckily, the love seat was relatively clear. He figured Cole must take catnaps there, and Logan steered Grace over to it. “Sit.”
She did as he asked, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. He settled in next to her and sighed.
Grace was sitting ramrod straight with her hands clenched together in her lap. She was looking down at her fingers as if they held the answer to the meaning of life.
“Look at me, Grace.”
She didn’t move.
“Please.”
At that, her eyes came up to his, reluctantly.
“It’s time to clear the air,” Logan told her. “I’m back in town for good, and I don’t want either of us to feel weird being around each other. I admit I’ve been avoiding you, and that’s on me, but I’m done with that. Cole is one of my good friends, and I know you and Felicity are close. I don’t want things to be uncomfortable with us anymore.”
Grace nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I meant every word I told you that morning ten years ago. I know we were young, but I had every intention of moving you to whatever base I was stationed at.” He hadn’t really planned to start out their conversation that way, but once he thought about confronting her and finding out what happened, he couldn’t not bring it up first thing. Logan winced when Grace’s eyes widened and she looked as though he’d hit her.
“I . . . I don’t think I want to do this,” she murmured and started to stand up.
Logan put his hand on her leg, halting her flight. “Please, Grace. We need to. I think we both have questions we need answered.” He knew he was being a bit heavy-handed, but he really wanted to talk to her. She settled back on the couch and nodded. It was a reluctant nod, but he’d take it.
“I was never so glad to leave a place as I was here,” he told her. “This town held nothing but horrible memories for me and I wanted out more than I wanted my next breath. Yeah, I could’ve simply moved out of my house and gotten my own place, but I’d still have to see my mom. Still would’ve seen my dad being knocked around by my bitch of a mother. I didn’t want to witness it anymore. Didn’t want to have to look the other way and pretend it wasn’t happening as I’d done my entire life. Joining the Army was my way out.”
Grace’s eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed, as if what he was saying was affecting her emotionally. Her hands gripped tightly together, enough so that her knuckles showed white. But she nodded as if she understood perfectly.
“You were my safe harbor, Grace,” Logan told her honestly. “When I was with you, I felt like the man my mother never let me be. I felt as though you liked me for who I was. That night at the football game, when you wore my shirt, it felt good. I realized that I liked being around you. I liked looking after you. I liked protecting you.”
“I li
ked it too.” Her words were soft and Logan breathed out a sigh of relief. He knew he was bungling this, and he probably sounded like a pussy, but he shouldn’t have worried. The Grace he knew wouldn’t make fun of him or make him feel bad about his feelings. He went on.
“So, when I left that morning, I was being completely serious about wanting you to move in with me once I got settled. I thought you felt the same way, but when you didn’t answer my letters, I figured you’d changed your mind. Or found someone else to be with.” Logan shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about the explanation. The words seemed too inadequate to explain the hell he’d gone through at the time.
“Wait, what?”
“It’s okay,” Logan hurried to reassure her. “Again, we were young. I never really told you how I felt, other than that morning at the bus station. That’s on me. After a while, when I didn’t hear from you, other than getting my letters sent back, I figured it was selfish of me to ask you to be an Army girlfriend. I moved every two years. You would have had to quit your job if you came with me with every change of station. Not to mention the deployments and long hours. I also figured you’d moved on from this town to follow your dreams and probably found the man of your dreams to share it with.”
Logan stopped talking when Grace put her hand on his arm and dug her fingernails into it. He had no idea if she knew what she was doing or not, but her words caught him by surprise.
“You didn’t write.”
He looked at her in confusion. “I did,” he insisted. “Every week when I was in Basic, and then every so often after that. For almost an entire year.”
“No, you didn’t,” she insisted.
Logan was getting angry now. “Grace. I did. I should know, I was the one who wrote the letters. Handwrote them, by the way, not typed. I was the one who waited every day for you to write me back, to acknowledge me. But you sent them all back, except for the last one. Unopened. The last few you even wrote, ‘I’m dating someone. Leave me alone,’ on the back.”
Grace didn’t respond, but leaned over her knees and started to hyperventilate.
“Grace! Shit. What’s wrong? Are you okay? You need to slow your breathing down or you’ll pass out. Come on, Smarty, breathe.” The nickname he’d given her when they were kids popped out without thought. “You’re scaring me, Grace. Take a deep breath. Good. Another. Keep doing that. Yeah, that’s it.”
Finally, when her breathing had slowed down and gotten close to normal, Grace turned her head to look at him. She hadn’t bothered to sit up, just stayed huddled over her knees.
“I didn’t get any letters.”
He barely heard the whispered words. Logan didn’t believe her. “It’s fine, Grace. I’m over it. It was a long time ago.”
“I. Didn’t. Get. Any. Letters,” she enunciated slowly, then closed her eyes and put her forehead back on her knees. Her voice was muffled, but Logan heard every word as if they were knives plunging into his heart.
“I waited. Every day after my college classes I rushed home to check the mail. And every day, there wasn’t anything from you. At first I told myself you were just busy. I can imagine how Basic Training is. You were probably really tired, and didn’t have time to write me. It was fine. After eight weeks went by, I thought for sure you’d start writing. But every day I was told there was nothing. I was writing you, though. I must’ve written at least fifty letters. I figured I’d save them and send them all at the same time, as soon as I got your address. But you never wrote. So I figured you were just being nice that morning at the bus station.” Grace’s voice trailed off, and she didn’t look up.
Logan was frozen in disbelief. Suddenly he sprang up and paced in front of her. Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Finally, Logan stopped in front of Grace and put both hands in his hair, holding onto his temper by a thread. “Grace, I swear to you, I wrote. I poured my heart into those letters. I made it through the eight weeks of hell that was Basic because I thought you were waiting for me. I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
His words seemed to break through some barrier with Grace, because she suddenly stood up and stalked over to Cole’s desk, bent over, and swiped every piece of paper and knickknack onto the floor. “No! No, no, no, no!” She turned to him then, face red, breathing so hard Logan could see her chest rising and falling in her agitation. “I didn’t get them, Logan. None of them. Not one letter! I waited. Every night, I’d cry myself to sleep telling myself that tomorrow would be the day I’d hear from you. Tomorrow I’d be able to send you the letters I’d written to you.” Her anger drained out of her as if it’d never been there, and her shoulders slumped. She continued, but this time her voice was defeated. “They kept them from me. They knew. Of course they knew.”
Logan didn’t know who “they” were. He had a good idea, but at the moment it didn’t matter. He felt the ice around his heart melt away as if it’d never been there. For the first time in ten years, he felt hope. He strode toward Grace with a determined stride. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace.
“Every time I struggled with a test, I thought about what my tutor taught me. How to relax and let the information come to me. You always told me I was smart, and I never believed you. But you were with me on every single road march, every deployment, every test I took. I heard you cheering me on. Even when I was pissed. Even when I thought you’d blown me off, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“I didn’t get your letters, Logan,” she mumbled into his neck.
“Yeah, I think I got that, Smarty. I still have them if you want to read them.”
Grace looked up at him then. Her eyes wide and sparkling with tears. “What?”
“The letters I wrote. I still have them. They were all returned but one. I wouldn’t want you to see that one anyway, but I kept them. Guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”
Grace bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Logan. I’m so sorry. I thought you were kidding. I thought you left and didn’t care.”
“I care.” Logan knew he was using the present tense, but it seemed right. He didn’t really know Grace Mason anymore. But if the spark in his gut was anything to go by, he knew he’d only be fooling himself if he pretended he wasn’t still attracted to the woman in his arms. “I still care about you, Grace.”
“What time is it?”
The question seemed incongruent to their current conversation, but Logan glanced at his wrist. “Ten thirty.”
“I have to go.”
“Stay. I want to know what you’ve been doing all these years. I want to know about your job. Gossip about people we know from high school. I don’t want to let you go yet.”
Grace lowered her head and snuggled it back into the side of his neck. Logan felt her warm breath brush over his skin, her hands resting lightly on his sides, and tightened his arms around her waist.
“I can’t. I have to go.”
“You’re an adult, Grace. You can stay out past midnight. It’s okay.”
His words seemed to break whatever spell she’d been under, because she stood up straight and took a step away from him. She looked around in dismay at the mess of Cole’s office. “Will you apologize to Cole for me? I don’t know what came over me.”
“Of course, but Grace—”
“I’ll stay for a bit, but not too long.”
Logan breathed out a sigh of relief. He’d missed her. Missed her smile. Missed the feeling he had when he was around her. Like he could stand between her and anything that might hurt her.
“Come on,” he held out his hand. “We’ll go and hang out in the gym for a bit. Is that okay?”
“Okay.”
Her one-word answer sounded unsure, but her fingers closed around his tightly, as if she was holding on for dear life. They left Cole’s office, hand in hand, just like they’d arrived. Even though they hadn’t worked through everything, Logan felt good. He wasn’t happy about the fact that she’d never received his letters all those
years ago, but he felt as if he had a second chance.
They went back into the gym, wincing at the volume of the music. It seemed extra loud after the silence of the back office.
“Want another drink?” he asked Grace.
“Can I have a water?”
“Of course. I’ll be right back,” Logan told her, letting go of her hand reluctantly. He headed over to the coolers and grabbed an ice-cold water and immediately turned back to where he’d left Grace. She was still standing against the wall, but he could see her looking around the room, as if searching for someone.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked as he walked up behind her.
Grace shrugged. “No one, really.”
“If you’re waiting for someone, I could-”
“No!” Grace interjected. “I just . . . I wondered who was here, that’s all.”
Feeling pleased that she wasn’t trying to find another man, Logan cracked open the top on the bottle of water and handed it to her. “One water, for the lady.”
She smiled, and Logan felt the room shift under his feet. It was as if the years hadn’t passed. He eyed the woman in front of him with the eyes of a fully grown man instead of a boy on the cusp of manhood. And he liked what he saw. Grace had the same curvy frame as she had in high school. The tank top she was wearing didn’t hide her voluptuous chest at all. Her hips flared out in the jeans she was wearing, and he remembered the pink polish on her toenails. She was a couple inches shorter than his six-foot frame. Remembering the feel of her in his arms in the office, Logan smiled, realizing how well they fit together.
She stared up at him, the bottle of water halfway to her mouth. So much for him being discreet in his perusal of her. Suddenly, what he’d seen as he walked up to her clicked in his mind. He leaned to the side and got another glimpse of her neck. Bringing a hand up to her nape, he brushed her ponytail out of the way and leaned down, turning her body so the lighting fell over them fully.
Logan ran a thumb over the small glowing tattoo at the base of her neck and felt Grace shiver under his touch. He did it again, and got the same reaction. The tattoo wasn’t anything out of the ordinary . . . two birds in flight, but it was the fact that it was done in a special ink that only glowed under the black fluorescent lights that fascinated him.
