by Meghan March
“Who called you?”
“One of her caretakers. The one who was there the most. Sofia. She’s a friend of mine.”
“This is the woman who got you evicted, but you’re going to run back to New York to help her?”
I release a long breath. “I know it doesn’t sound like it makes sense. She was a hard-ass, but she was my hard-ass, you know? I don’t think any of it was done in spite. She was . . . kinda like a really strict, bitchy grandmotherly figure to me.”
Logan nods like he’s trying to understand, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t truly get it. “Okay. You gotta do what feels right.”
“I know it seems weird, but this is definitely what’s right.” Tears trickle over the edges of my lids. “She was crotchety and mean, but she . . . she cared. You know? Like she was the only one who would bother to scold me for coming home late or skipping work. Maybe I’m reaching here, but when you’re in a city of a zillion freaking people, that kind of stuff matters. At least, it did to me.”
Logan’s expression softens as he reaches up to swipe the tears off my cheeks. “Then you go and do what you need to do. Gold Haven will still be here when you get back.”
“Thank you for understanding.” I straighten my clothes and start looking for a flight on my phone.
Of course, the first one I find is a six a.m. flight out of an airport that’s fifty minutes away. I look at Logan, not wanting to ask him to get up at the ass crack of dawn to take me when I know damn well he’s got a ton of work to do.
“What?” he asks, looking over at me as he cleans up the mess we made on the counter.
“Is airport parking expensive?” It’s not something I’ve ever had to worry about before.
He gives me a look that clearly says I’m on crack. “Banner, I’m driving you, and I’ll pick you up. It’s not a big deal.”
“I have to be there by five a.m.”
“Doesn’t matter, babe. We better get back to your place so you can pack.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I love him, and the words feel so freaking natural, they almost slip out. But I remember my promise to myself, and I lock them down.
“Thank you,” I say instead.
He leans in and presses a kiss to my lips. “No thanks necessary.”
I fall asleep two hours later with a carry-on packed and Logan wrapped around me in my tiny bed.
I’m going to miss this, even if I’m only gone for a few days. Who would have thought I’d be dreading going back to New York because of what I’m leaving behind in Kentucky?
Namely, my heart.
Chapter 42
Logan
I hate dropping her off at the airport. Watching Banner walk through those sliding doors, knowing that she’s getting on a plane and heading back to a life she could easily want to reclaim, has me tied up in all sorts of knots.
Sure, right now she says she’s coming back, but what if she changes her mind? She’s not like any woman I’ve ever met before, and part of what I love about her is her spontaneity and lack of impulse control.
Both those things could easily work against me if she decides that she’s had enough of her small-town adventure.
Shit, she wouldn’t even need to come back for her clothes; it’s not like she left many behind after she was finished packing. How a woman can fit so much stuff in such a small suitcase will forever boggle my mind.
I drive away when the security guard gives me the evil eye. As I turn out of the airport, my phone dings in the cupholder with a text.
BANNER NYC: I’m going to miss you.
Right now I’m kicking myself for not changing her contact in my phone to take out the NYC because it just hammers home what I’m worried might happen. After having her every day, I can’t do the long-distance thing again.
LOGAN: Not for long.
BANNER NYC: xo
LOGAN: Fly safe.
A car horn honks behind me, and I pull out onto the road toward Gold Haven.
The entire drive, something feels off. I stop at a strip-mall doughnut shop and get some coffee and a half dozen glazed, and leave my phone in the car.
When I get back in the driver’s seat, I see another text from Banner on the screen.
BANNER NYC: Did I leave my flat iron plugged in upstairs? I seriously can’t remember, and if I burn down Holly’s gran’s house, no one is ever going to forgive me.
Why the woman hadn’t just put her hair in a ponytail this morning, I wasn’t sure, but I also didn’t ask.
LOGAN: I’ll go over there and check before I head home.
BANNER NYC: Thank you. Boarding in 15.
LOGAN: Text me when you land.
BANNER NYC: Will do. xo
I eat the entire half dozen glazed doughnuts in less than twenty miles, and finish the coffee before I pull into the gravel drive in front of Banner’s temporary home.
Even the word pisses me off. Temporary.
She’s the first woman who’s been in my life in more years than I can count who I don’t want the word temporary attached to. She doesn’t want anything but me. Not my money, not my business, not my house. Just me.
I never have to wonder what the hell she’s thinking, or if she’s got a hidden agenda, because she’s got no filter and has no problem telling me exactly how things are.
That goes a hell of a long way with me.
I head up the steps of the purple porch and use the key Holly gave me to let myself inside. The hallway light is still on, so I’m glad I stopped by regardless. I head upstairs to the bathroom and find the straightener is unplugged. At least Banner will feel better now that she has peace of mind.
But what’s shoved in the basket behind it has me freezing where I stand.
The box reads PREGNANCY TEST—TWO PACK. It’s torn open and one is missing.
What. The. Fuck.
Logan and Banner’s story concludes in Real Good Love.
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Also by Meghan March
Also by Meghan March
BENEATH Series:
Beneath This Mask
Beneath This Ink
Beneath These Chains
Beneath These Scars
Beneath These Lies
Beneath These Shadows
FLASH BANG Series:
Flash Bang
Hard Charger
DIRTY BILLIONAIRE Trilogy:
Dirty Billionaire
Dirty Pleasures
Dirty Together
DIRTY GIRL Duet:
Dirty Girl
Dirty Love
STANDALONES:
Bad Judgment
Acknowledgments
I’ve never laughed so hard while writing a book. Logan and Banner’s story poured out of me, and I hung on for the ride.
Thank you to the amazing team who helped take my words and turn them into a final product of which I’m incredibly proud.
Angela Marshall Smith, the first reader of my words. Your insight is invaluable, and I’m blessed to have you in my life.
Pam Berehulke, editor extraordinaire. Thank you for being so incredibly fabulous in everything you do.
Angela Smith, for taking this crazy ride with me and helping me to keep it all running smoothly. Have I told you lately that I love you?
Danielle Sanchez, publicity goddess. Thank you for handling your job like the boss you are.
Natasha, Jamie, and Stacy, rock-star beta readers. Thank you so much for your feedback and your time. I appreciate it so much more than you know.
Hang Le, amazing cover designer, for once again
flexing your creative muscles and delivering exactly what I need.
My Runaway Readers Facebook Group, I feel privileged to have such an amazing crew of ladies and gents who show such passion for my books on a daily basis. Love you all.
My readers, you deserve all the thanks and gratitude I can offer. Without you, I wouldn’t have the most amazing job I can possibly imagine. How about we keep doing this thing, yeah?
Fabulous bloggers, for reading and promoting all of these words solely for the love of books. You are the backbone of this indie book world, and don’t receive nearly enough credit for all that you do. You are appreciated. You are effing fabulous.
JDW, the epitome of a real good man. I could fill an entire book with all the reasons I love you, and am so fucking lucky to have you in my life. I can’t wait to see what adventures we’re going to have next.
And as always, my family, for cheering me on every step of the way.
All my best,
Meghan
Author’s Note
I’d love to hear from you. Connect with me at:
Website: www.meghanmarch.com
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About the Author
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in the woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut.
Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty-talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had.
She loves hearing from her readers at [email protected].
