“How can she think it’s anyone other than me?”
“Because I never say your name. Ever.”
Her eyes went huge. “Ever?”
Every time they video chatted, or texted, or emailed…they were his. He didn’t share them with anyone. He had to share enough of his life with the world. This was just his. And if no one else knew, then it couldn’t get out there. Just the slightest wrong mention could ruin everything.
He captured her hand on his arm and urged her to sit on the couch. “Just a little bit longer, Iz.”
“Until when? The festival’s coming. Am I supposed to pretend you’re not mine? Am I not allowed to touch you in the place I call home? That way no one would know that we’re a couple since I spend all my time up here.” She crossed her arms over her middle.
Wouldn’t Aimee have made a move if she knew about Izzy? Just the idea of Logan being with her had prompted that one letter. Had it only been a scare tactic, nothing more? More like a bully with nothing to back it up?
The deer certainly negated that. But it also could be just her throwing a tantrum because she couldn’t get to see him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know what to do.
The only thing he did know was that he couldn’t lose Izzy. He sat back and drew her into his arms. “I’m sorry, babe.”
She sighed against his chest. “I know. God, just a few days ago I was thinking, wow…we’re really making this work. And now it just seems like we’re in a holding pattern. Either she’ll come at me, or us, or even some combination of the two, or she’s going to wait us out. I honestly don’t know what’s worse.”
He kissed her temple. It was beyond selfish to ask her to live like this, but what else could he do? Go back to how he was living before? Was he just trading one form of survival for another? Neither of them was truly living. Not with a future attached to it.
“How about I put on one of the tacky disguises I own? We take a day trip out of here. Go someplace that no one knows us. Take a day where I don’t have to hide how much you mean to me.”
She peered up at him. “Yeah?” The ghost of a smile teased her mouth.
“Yeah.” He rose off the couch and dragged her up with him. With her hand in his, he led her into the music room. “Look in that trunk. See what you like.”
“I don’t need a disguise.”
“For me.”
“Oh.” She knelt in front of the old footlocker and unlocked the two huge buckles before flipping the top back. She pulled out three wigs. “Really?”
“Those would be Zeke’s additions.”
She tucked them back in and lifted out a hat. He took it from her and dropped the fedora on her head. She grinned up at him and tugged it down so only one brilliant eye escaped the shadow of the brim.
“Hot.”
Izzy laughed. She reached into the back of the trunk and unearthed a golf cap. “Now this, I can work with.”
“Just the hat?”
“Yep.” She grabbed his hand. “Oh, and handy that you’re beardy again.”
He swiped his palm over his jaw. “I’m not that bad.”
“In this case, very good.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I don’t know about this, Izzy.”
Bella peeked over his shoulder, into the mirror. “Oh, yeah. No one would recognize you.”
“That’s because I look like an art house douche.”
She laughed. “You’re my douche.”
“Great.” He scratched through the goatee she’d convinced him to leave. It was long enough to make the square lines of his jaw look longer. Actually, he looked like he was going to try out for a villain in a movie, or for a Shakespearean play.
Oddly hot as well.
She dropped the golf cap on his head and handed him his aviators. With the polo shirt and cargo shorts, he was completely transformed.
He turned away from the mirror with a brow cocked. “Now I look like a yuppie douche.”
“No one uses the word yuppie anymore.”
“That’s because douche covers all of it.”
She giggled. She adored him for doing this. Maybe it was exactly what she needed. No, what they needed. To go out and just be a couple.
She scraped her dark hair into a high ponytail and fluffed out her bangs. She adjusted the wide straps of her lavender sundress. They looked like a young, professional couple that probably went to the bridge parties every other weekend. But the illusion was enough. Especially when they were heading into Great Barrington. It was a small, quirky town full of art and history.
“Be a good sport.”
“I’m only doing this for you.”
“And I appreciate it.”
He looked down at her with that squinty glare that he thought made him look tough. Sometimes it worked, but not today. She went up on her toes and kissed him. His facial hair was long enough to tickle the skin around her mouth. She stepped back and turned around so she was in front of him, her back to his front.
“Look at us. We look like we should be going to some swanky party in the Hamptons.”
He brushed his cheek against hers. “A richie rich barbecue.”
How many times had she gone to those with her parents? Sensible backyard barbecues that didn’t dare have a beer in the cooler. No, those parties were crisp dry wine and even drier conversation over sawdust finger sandwiches.
The good thing here was that Logan was very much the opposite of that in every way. He liked a good bottle of wine, but she tasted beer on his tongue more often than not. And lately, very rarely at that.
He swiped the hat off and tucked his sunglasses inside, tossing both on the counter before wrapping his arm around her waist. “Best disguise,” he lowered his mouth to her shoulder, “ever.” The tickle of hair made her shiver as he dragged his mouth up the slope of skin to her neck. He watched her in the mirror as his thumb drew lazy circles over her ribs, a bare inch from the curve of her breast.
The flick of his tongue behind her ear made her shudder. When his other hand slipped under the hem of her dress, she let her head fall back against his chest. “Logan.” She tried to put a sense of warning in her voice.
“It’s a long car ride and I haven’t touched you in sixteen days.”
She sighed. Sixteen days and six hours, but who was counting? “Sarah’s downstairs waiting for us.”
“Sixteen days,” he repeated as he met her eyes in the mirror.
She slid her legs apart as he made soft figure eights along the inside of her thigh before the pads of two fingers teased over the cotton panel of her lacy thong. She swayed lightly, his growing erection and light touch making her crazy. She gripped the back of his thigh so he couldn’t step back.
He followed the line of her panties and tucked his hand into the front. His middle finger tunneled through the swollen lips of her pussy and pressed against her clit with the lightest friction. God, she needed so much more than that.
And he knew it.
He’d watched her a few nights ago when the loneliness had gotten too bad.
His other hand cupped her breast, finding the hard tip of her nipple through the summer-weight bra she wore. There was where he applied friction. The cotton and lace wasn’t enough.
She wanted his callous-tipped fingers. The tiny bites and scrapes where his guitar left scars—God yes, she wanted that. She released the side zipper and the front gaped enough for him to slip his hand into the dress and under the cup of her bra. He plucked at her nipple, tugging it with a twist of thumb and forefinger.
Green eyes lit with lust and determination as his other hand lightly pulsed against her rapidly dampening flesh. She undulated her hips, urging him for more, but he held her still. “Patience,” he said against her neck.
“You’re killing me.”
He ground his cock into the cleft of her ass. “I think that would be the other way around, babe.”
All she needed to do was lean over the counter. He could slip inside a
nd be done in mere moments if he wanted.
He shook his head. “I can read that dirty mind of yours. A quick fuck against the sink isn’t going to be enough.” He tucked a second finger inside of her and she shuddered. “This will have to tide you over. Because when I come inside you tonight it won’t be quick and it won’t be sweet or soft.”
Again, he just invaded and left them there, more pressure, but no friction.
She stared at him in the glass. Raw heat lived in his unerring gaze and the stubborn line of his jaw told her she was going to spend the day with this half want pulsing under the surface of her skin.
He pulled his fingers slowly from her pussy and brought the slickened fingers up to his mouth. Deciding two people could play at this, she tightened her hand on his wrist and brought them to her mouth instead.
In the mirror, she watched him watch her lick between them, then take them both deep into her mouth. The musky, salty flavor of her was a surprise.
His teeth grazed the shell of her ear. “That was mine.”
She turned her head up and slid her fingers along the nape of his neck. “Want a taste?”
He brought his hand up to her neck and held her there. The glitter of danger made her throb, and the dirty, deep-throated kiss kicked up her pulse. She lost her breath. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and invaded every part of her. He dragged his teeth over her lower lip then tipped her head back enough for him to scrape over her chin only to return to her mouth for another thorough taste.
She broke away from him and escaped into the bedroom.
Her entire body was vibrating.
Fuck.
Did they really need to go to Great Barrington today?
When he filled the doorway, his fingers digging into the doorjamb, she swallowed. Yes. She wanted him out in the sunshine, out with people. As much as her body gave a shriek of protest, she adjusted herself and zipped up the side of her dress.
And because she liked to poke the bear, even when he was ready to growl and claw, she smiled at him. “I can’t wait to feel that goatee between my thighs tonight.”
“Izzy.”
“You were the one that wanted to wait.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“As long as you’re aware of it.” She picked up her purse and threw what she hoped was a careless grin over her shoulder. “Come on yuppie douche, we’re wasting daylight.”
He rushed up behind her and scooped her up. “What did you call me?”
Her shout of laughter filled the hallway. “Put me down,” she said mid-squeal.
“Nope.”
She gripped his forearms and held on. And the laughter felt good.
∞ ♦ ∞
After the first hour of shopping in the heart of downtown Great Barrington, Logan started to relax. Izzy’s disguise was holding up. Of course a beautiful day in mid-July probably helped that. It was hot, but not the sticky heat of August yet. People were idly browsing like they were, and still others were in work mode.
Weekends were most definitely work days for him. So, them out on a Wednesday afternoon was probably even safer than his disguise. He had a cloth shopping bag over his shoulder with a few of Izzy’s purchases, but for the most part she seemed to enjoy being out of the house more than anything else.
Guilt tried to creep up and sit on his shoulders, but her happy smile kept beating it back. It was his fault she was cooped up in the house all the time. He wanted to take her into the city and bring her to his favorite restaurants, to bring her into town and sit at Valentine’s Diner for the meatloaf special, for fuck’s sake.
But he’d let fear rule him again.
Seeing her out like this only made that fact achingly clear.
She spun around in front of him, the bell skirt of her dress swirled around her knees and made every inch of her tanned legs irresistible as hell. It was a flashback to the very first time he’d seen her in the barn. Just as gorgeous and full of life. He caught her hand and dragged her into him for a light kiss. “Hungry?”
She tipped her head and traced her finger over the buttons of his polo shirt. “I could eat.”
He nodded across the street. “How’s pizza sound?”
She cupped his hand in hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, then leaned back into him with easy affection. “Pepperoni and mushroom?”
He brushed his nose along her nape. “Someone has really been enjoying salty and spicy tastes today.”
Laughing, she drew him across the street. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah cross after them. Determined not to think about their bodyguard or the reasons for needing her, he followed Izzy into the pizza place. His belly growled loudly at the tang of tomato sauce and garlic on the air.
“By the sound of that belly we can share a small pie, I think.”
“Definitely.”
An old man with a shock of white hair came out from the back. “What can I get you and the wife?”
Logan’s belly jumped.
“Oh, we’re not—”
He tightened his hand around hers. “My wife would love a small mushroom and pepperoni.”
Izzy’s gaze shot to his. “Uh, yeah.” She cleared her throat. “And a couple of cold beers if you have it.”
“You got it.”
She ran her nails along the inside of his arm absently before letting him go. “I’ll grab us a table.”
The man waggled his eyebrows at Logan. “You won the wife jackpot, son.”
Logan grinned back. “I kinda did, huh?” He handed over two twenties. “Throw the change in the tip bucket.”
“Hey, thanks. I’ll bring your pie over in a few.” He set two bottles on the counter.
“Thanks.” Logan took the beer and nodded to Sarah as she passed him to get her own slice. She took her food to the far corner and sat with her back to the wall. Her assessing gaze swept the little shop before she settled in with a dogeared paperback. He was glad she was vigilant. It was probably the first time he’d actually been able to let their situation fade to the background.
Probably not a good idea, but seeing Izzy laughing and carefree had been contagious. Enough that he was starting to wonder if he was being overcautious just for the sake of it.
He liked the idea that strangers thought they were more than just a random couple. That they looked like they were a unit unconsciously. They were as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t sure he’d ever want that after Aimee’s stunt at the chapel. Marriage and family had always been one of those things he figured he’d get to when he retired.
Now, he couldn’t imagine anyone else in his life. Izzy was the last stop. Instead of panic, his lungs made room for the first easy breath in years.
He set the beer in front of her. “I’m starving.”
She leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell that guy he was wrong?”
He sat in the booth across from her. “I don’t know. I liked the idea of it.”
She looked down and he couldn’t figure out what was going on in that head of hers.
Logan caught her fisted hand and shook her fingers loose enough to lace them together with his own. “Is that so crazy?”
She shook her head, but still wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Izzy, look at me.”
Her lashes lifted. “Do you do anything at normal speed?” Her topaz eyes were bright, but not with tears. Surprise and confusion swirled there.
“Not usually.”
She huffed out a laugh. “You’d think I would get used to it, but no.”
“I love you, Izzy. They’re not words I toss out easily.”
“I know.”
“Here we go folks, a six-cut pepperoni and mushroom.” He served up a slice for each of them. “I threw a few garlic knots on top.”
Logan smiled. “Thanks. Smells amazing.”
She gave the old man a sweet smile. “Thanks.”
He clamped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You come on back anytime.”
Logan watche
d as the man whistled his way around the counter and turned back to her. “I want that future, Iz. All of it.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “You overwhelm me.”
“Good.” He picked up his slice and folded it like the New Yorker he’d become.
She lifted her beer for a long swig then dug in. By the time they finished their first slice, she was back to her animated self. She chattered about the festival and he told her about Zeke’s schoolteacher girlfriend that had tagged along for the last three weeks of the tour. She was currently finding her inner groupie soul.
Zeke was exhausted.
After the last slice and a second beer, they decided to walk down to the park to feed the ducks their leftover crust. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been able to go out for more than an hour without being recognized.
As he watched her crouch in front of the pond and laugh over the overzealous ducks, he knew things had to change. It was tempting to stretch the day out and find somewhere to stay overnight. The anonymity was seductive, but he wanted his house and to have Izzy wrapped around him in his bed that night.
“Ready to go home?”
She smiled over her shoulder then brushed the crumbs off her dress and stood. “Definitely.”
He held his hand out to her. Home meant Winchester Falls and Izzy. And it meant moving forward. They couldn’t live their life afraid of shadows any longer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Logan pulled his phone out and sent a quick text to Nic to make sure Izzy was still detained as the helicopter landed.
Yes. Sharon has been keeping her busy. Genius call there, buddy. I can probably hold her for another hour, tops.
He wouldn’t need that long. He shot back an all good, but before he could tuck his phone back in his pocket, it chirped.
I’m so sorry. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Soooo sorry. Did I mention sorry?
He hated to make Izzy feel guilty, but there was no way he could have snuck away unless there’d been a pseudo-emergency. Nic and Adam were far too self-reliant at the store so he’d had to manufacture a festival emergency.
Bulletproof Weeks Page 14
