by Ashley Logan
“I told Andy that I was very not interested in him romantically because I am totally hot for the adorable guy from the veggie store.”
“Adorable and scary,” he corrects me.
“I didn’t have to add scary, because Andy thinks you look dangerous.”
“That’ll do nicely,” he says, grinning. “Please continue.”
“And he’ll keep my dancing from the kids, and he’s very happy about being part of the family again, and that I will sort things out with his dad so it won’t be weird.”
“I’ll sort things with his dad,” Lennox says, frowning.
“We both will,” I say firmly. “I need to clear the air between us for the sake of the others, and probably should be present on any visit from you, to keep you from doing anything naughty.”
Chewing slowly, he watches me and swallows. “Can I still threaten him?”
“We’ll see; eat your sandwich.”
Chuckling a little, he shakes his head. “You sound like a mom.”
“I get that a lot.”
“It’s pretty hot coming from a sweet young thing like you.”
“Sweet huh?”
“Mmhmm. A total honey.”
“A bear would think that, I suppose.”
“He would. He can’t get enough. Licks his paws clean and everything,” he says, shrugging his eyebrows at me and polishing off his sandwich.
Shifting in my chair, I feel the warmth creeping up my face. “Jeez, you’re a filthy one.”
“You love it,” he says with another grin. “Only an appreciative and equally dirty mind would’ve gone there Kat. On the surface that was clean as a whistle.”
“Whistles are covered in spit. They’re dirty as fuck.”
His eyes are gleaming at me in a very dangerous way. “Enough, Katarina, or I’m going to haul that sweet ass of yours back to bed.” Groaning, he pulls both hands down his face.
Giggling, I reach over to his fruit bowl and take two bananas. Passing one to him, I start peeling the other. “Will it always be like this, do you think?”
“Like what?” he asks, peeling his banana from the opposite end than I would.
“Hot. And fun, and... needy.”
“I fucking hope so,” he says watching me a while. “I think in ten years I’ll still feel like I can’t breathe when you eat a fucking banana,” he says, swallowing visibly. “Do you do that on purpose?”
“What? Eat?” I ask, thrown off balance by the ease of his ‘ten years’ comment.
Lennox shakes his head, still watching. “The way you wrap your lips around it all slow and gorgeous, taking just a bit too much, so it bulges in your mouth. Fuck.”
Giggling, I cover my mouth as I chew. “I can’t believe you think me being greedy is sexy.”
“Well it is. Stop it, or I’ll never get back to work.”
“I’ll take smaller bites,” I promise, as he finishes his banana in two mouthfuls. “Maybe you should too.”
Squinting at me as he chews, he holds out his hand for my peel and puts them both in the compost bin on the far counter.
Finishing, I clear my throat as Lennox makes tea. “Were you serious before?”
“Before what?” he asks, coming to sit back down with two cups.
“The... finding me sexy in ten years thing.”
Kissing my forehead, he smiles. “Definitely serious. You’ll only be thirty-four. Then again you’ll still be sexy in forty years, I’d say. I just hope I’m not too blind by then to appreciate it.”
My hands tremble as I reach for my tea, and Lennox doesn’t fail to notice.
“What’s this really about?”
“So you really do want a long term thing with me?”
“Ah yes, I really do,” he says as if I’m crazy. “I told you that.”
Nodding, I take a sip of my tea.
Sighing, he lowers his cup. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind. I’ve already picked out your name.”
“My name?”
“Mmhmm,” he says, smiling. “Katarina Snow-peas-are Green. I’m assuming you’ll let me marry you one day, and that you’d like to share my totally awesome last name. We have bags,” he says, pointing to the bag of groceries on the bench with the store logo for Green’s on it.
I can’t keep a straight face at that. Lennox takes my hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb.
“I think you’re a wonderful person, and a phenomenal cook, with strong family values, who is good to me, and my daughter, and pretty much everyone else you know. I love you, Katarina. I’m in this for the long haul, if you’ll have me.”
Squeezing his hand, I smile and nod. “I’d like that. I can’t imagine what it’ll look like, but I’m keen.”
“I imagine it will look something like this,” he says, leaning in to kiss me softly on the lips, then more deeply. When he pulls back, my breath is coming that much faster.
“But how do we work that into our lives in a functional way?”
“We’re doing okay so far,” Lennox says frowning. “We’re both still getting things done, even though certain super-sexy redheads make it very difficult,” he says as his eyebrows twitch and the corner of his mouth begins to curl up. “I’m sure my dick will get easier to ignore eventually.” Chuckling a little, he sighs happily. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, but there are things we could do to make things easier on ourselves.”
“Such as?”
Lennox regards me quietly before speaking. “When I think about the future, I see you here. Maybe with your little sis-”
Cutting him off with my gasp, I glare at him as I try to pull my hand back.
“Now hold on a second,” he says quickly, keeping my hand firmly in his. “Let me finish. You could move in here with your little sisters - if they’d like to, and if you’d feel comfortable with them being here. They don’t have to find out about the dancing, we could keep the same lie that you work behind the bar to explain your absence in the evenings. Though with them here, Jem away at college and Tim a grown man, you could get rid of the house in Franky-town and use the cash to fund the kid’s education, so you could dance a little less - which means I could scuff you with my beard, or get to nibble at you every now and then without getting hit on the nose with a rolled up newspaper - which I’d really like,” he says with a mischievous grin. “But as I said - when you’re ready, we’ll do whatever you want. Within reason, obviously. I’m not pandering to outrageous demands like Lennox fuck me on the table good and hard before supper,” he says, putting on a girl’s voice. “Not if we have three impressionable, young ladies sleeping down the hall. It’s too risky.”
Folding my arms, I lean back in my chair and click my tongue. “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”
“I really have,” he says, his grin still very visible as he sips his tea. “Obviously, this wouldn’t happen immediately, considering I’ve never met your sisters, nor they me, and we’d have to get everyone liking each other and on the same page, which could take... years, I guess. Or months. We’ll have to wait and see. But in the meantime, we’ll share what we can - like meals, and beds, and spit,” he says grinning again as he kisses me.
“Gross.”
“You love it.”
I lift one shoulder in partial agreement as my cheeks begin to hurt from the smile I’m restraining.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks, that sexy as hell smile growing impossibly big again.
I nod.
“Good,” he says with satisfaction. “And you like your name? That’s especially important.”
“I love it. I love you.”
“And I, you,” he says, pulling me into his lap and kissing me with the usual thrilling intensity as his hands slip under my layers to trace patterns on my skin. Groaning, Lennox throws his head back and points at the door. “Chores,” he whimpers as his jeans begin to strain beneath me.
Kissing him again as I remove myself from
his lap, I run my hands through his perfect hair. “I’ll get your shirt.”
HEY AWESOME READER!
Thanks for reading BEYOND COMPARE!
I hope you enjoyed reading about Lennox, Kat, and the rest of the Beyond crew. If you want to hear about new releases, you can sign up for my newsletter or follow my Amazon author page.
I'd love to hear from you! I'm on Facebook or contact me through my website Ashley Logan Romance. If you enjoyed this book, you can also help others find it, by leaving a review.
If you’d like to read Natalia and Nikolai's story, it’ll be out before the end of September - keep reading for a sneak peek, or order now and enjoy the full story when it comes out.
Also keep an eye out for Bruno and Damon's friend Bradley Jenkins! His story: Jenkins and the Naughty Nurse is due for release in August 2018 and you can read the beginning snippet at the end of this book, or order now to get it as soon as it's available!
BEYOND TAKEN
The Story of Natalia Chenkov and Nikolai Rigby
As Bruno extracts my face from Scarlett’s bare breasts, I have to wonder at how I got there.
A threesome isn’t something I would just find myself in; surely. I don’t think I’ve been daydreaming so badly that I wouldn't remember consenting to such a thing, and I certainly wouldn't crash a steamy party of two uninvited. I do remember falling...
Tripping to be precise.
Politely covering his eyes, Bruno hands me back my towel.
“We’re so sorry Nat. Are you okay?”
Caught in the light streaming from Bruno's bedroom door, Scarlett’s cheeks glow a brilliant crimson as she re-buttons her silky pajama top.
Still confused, I re-instate my towel around my own nakedness.
“You have a bedroom,” I remind them as I straighten my towel and collect myself. “Two bedrooms.” I point to the rooms behind them in the short hallway before looking over my shoulder and wincing. “You were waiting for the bathroom?”
They exchange a guilty look and I sigh. Leaning against the bathroom door, I fold my arms.
“What are you doing? Apart from making out on the floor. You two are never up this early.”
Another less-than-innocent glance passes between them.
“That’s not entirely true,” Bruno confesses, rubbing the back of his head as he shifts his gaze from Scarlett to me, and then to the floor. “We’ve been secretly listening to you shower for weeks.”
“Months,” Scarlett corrects.
“What do you mean listening to me sh-”
Clutching the door frame for support, I swallow hard and clear my throat. “You heard me singing.”
Both of them nod, their heads still hanging low.
Scarlett is the first to meet my eyes.
“You’re good Natalia. So good. Your voice is beautiful,” she says in a rush as she clasps Bruno’s hand tighter. “There is so much emotion inside of you that we never see on the surface, but when you sing, we can feel it. It’s powerful. Sometimes your voice brings tears to our eyes,” she admits, casting a sideways glance at Bruno, who doesn’t deny such behavior.
“Sometimes, your songs are so beautiful it feels as if you’re singing about the love inside of us,” she adds with a sheepish smile as she holds Bruno’s hand to her chest. “We... may have gotten a little carried away today.”
“Normally we hide back in our rooms when we hear the shower turn off,” Bruno explains quietly. His eyes are still fixed firmly on the carpet. “We’ve been wondering how to tell you that we’ve heard, but we don’t want you to stop. It wasn’t that long ago that you weren’t singing at all. Shower singing has to be the first step to recovery. Right?” His caring eyes rise to meet mine.
I don’t tell him how precious being able to sing in the shower is to me - an absolute privilege.
“Please don’t stop singing Nat,” he pleads. “We’ll stop setting our alarm to catch you, I swear. We won’t listen anymore. Please just keep singing.”
Opening my mouth to respond, I close it again.
My American friends seem to over-react to everything. If I had friends back in Estonia acting like these two, I’d think they were on the verge of a breakdown. They cry when I sing? Seriously? Bruno’s a giant of a man who has been to war, and Scarlett was almost burned alive. I might never understand how such strong people can be so outwardly soft. Where I’m from it’s practically bad manners to show feelings.
Scarlett steps closer, studying my face. “Oh man. Nat, you have to say something. You’ve gone all stone-faced again. We have no idea what you’re thinking or feeling right now, and we need to know you’re okay. We haven’t destroyed your singing progress have we?”
Shrugging, I think a moment before shaking my head. “It will maybe take me a while not to think about you rolling around on the floor outside, but it will not stop me from singing in this shower.”
I start to move away, but Scar puts a hand on my shoulder. “Wait.”
Closing my eyes, I set my jaw and turn back to my most inquisitive roommate, preparing myself for the interrogation. “Yes?”
“Why do you shower so early, and why in this bathroom? You have a shower across the hall from your room.”
Sighing, I adjust my towel, wishing I’d brought my robe with me. It’s strange that I feel more exposed right now, than when I dance practically naked for people in the strip club downstairs. That kind of exposure is different though. It’s business-like and I have always been able to keep such things emotionally separate from my body.
Almost always.
But if I don’t answer Scarlett’s questions, there will be more. This is her way, and she does it from a caring place.
“I like this shower better,” I reply with a shrug. “Sound is better and the tiles are blue. I shower early because I am awake. Every day I am awake early. Always.”
The dreams don’t let me sleep.
“Why do you sometimes sing happy songs, and other times you sound so sad?” she asks, though Bruno seems just as interested. Sometimes I believe he's quite glad that Scarlett can’t help but ask the questions he also wants the answers to. Their thoughts are often so plain on their faces; so easy to read.
Lifting a shoulder, I keep my own face neutral. “Sometimes dreams are happy. Sometimes not.”
“So last night’s dream was a good one?” Scarlett's grin becomes cheeky as she seeks clarification.
I feel my cheeks warm a little and silently scold myself for giving that much away. Scar takes a step closer, her interest growing.
“Ooh, it was a good one! Who is he?”
Resetting my face, I lift my chin and command my voice to remain steady.
“He is... no longer.”
Scarlett’s tiny gasp is enough of a warning that more emotion and questioning are about to follow, so I step around her while I still can. “Excuse me.”
“Nat!”
Her loving arms embrace me before I'm out of reach and Bruno’s over-sized trunks close around us both.
I am continually telling myself that I don’t need this kind of thing. Hugs are just silly displays of emotion in adults. Only babies and children need them really.
And me.
I need them.
Except they make me want to cry. I definitely don’t want to cry.
“Let me go. Please. I need to... Space. Please.”
Breathing heavily a moment, I warn Scarlett with a look. “Please don’t push anymore.”
She nods. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”
Close to tears, she leans back into Bruno. “Is he dead, or can you just never see him again?” she whispers, unable to keep herself from prying.
“Scarlett!” Bruno warns her through gritted teeth as he offers me an apologetic look.
“Is okay,” I assure him as he makes to pull Scarlett back towards the bedroom they now share. Meeting Scarlett’s eyes, I steel myself for the hard truth.
“He is dead and I see him every time I close my
eyes. Sometimes I see him in broad daylight and have to splash cold water on my face to remember what is real. My therapist wants me to take medication. I do not want to. Cold water works fine. Being haunted is... hard, but I do not want to not see him.” Seeing their expressions, I hold up a hand to ease their minds. “That is probably sounding quite sad, but I am not so sad. I have a better life now than I did in Estonia. I have people here who love me. Is good. I will sing for others again one day. Not yet. I will shower sing a while first, if you do not mind. But if you could maybe not... love outside the door too often, I would appreciate it.”
Bowing his head graciously, Bruno takes a step back, pulling Scar with him. “Anything you need, Nat. We’re here for you. Sorry about... the floor loving.”
“And that I almost smothered you with my boobs,” Scar adds, flashing me a regretful smile. “You’re the first girl to go there, you know.”
Returning her smile, I begin to relax inside. Things are returning to normal.
“Now that I have inspected them so closely, I can honestly say that you have very lovely breasts Scarlett. I can see why Bruno finds them hard to ignore. I will see you two later.”
Get this book.
JENKINS & THE NAUGTHY NURSE
The Story of Bradley Jenkins and Stacey Lane
Some kids will talk to anyone.
Studying the stealthy little ninja that has materialized beside me with a wary eye, I lean away with a scowl. I'd thought I was alone.
The small boy asks me again if I like the painting, as if I hadn't heard.
"I'm biased, so I can't pass comment," I reply, glancing around in search of his parents. The kid can't be more than five or six years old. How in the hell have I ended up with an unsupervised kid in the middle of a hospital?
"What's biased?" he asks as my head falls back and I groan.
Twisting to see him, I squint at his questioning face. "Huh?"
