Out of Control

by Tory Richards

  “Come along, young man!” he heard her screech from the other side of the house.

  Grinning, Logan followed her, still shaking his head with disbelief and wondering if he should let on that he was on to her. He had his answer when he turned the corner of the house and saw her standing there with her hands on her hips and a look of impatience on her face. Only her eyes, behind the thick bifocals, were proof of who he was really looking at. It suddenly occurred to him that he could have a little fun with that knowledge.

  His gaze encompassed the various potted plants, the chairs beneath the huge oak trees, a rusty grill and bird bath that was overflowing with dirty water. “I hope you didn’t lug all this stuff back out on your own, Reba.” Logan quickly averted his face when she shot him a suspicious look. “Where do you want this?”

  “On the back porch,” she ordered. He turned in time to see her hook the bird feeder on a low hanging branch beneath the oak tree. “Libby’s, ah, not feeling well this morning so we made her stay in bed.” She swung around and headed for the back porch steps.

  He had to give her credit for being quick. “I hope it’s nothing serious.” Logan noticed she did everything she could to avoid making eye contact with him. He followed her, his gaze running over her slim backside again. It dawned on him she must have worn some kind of padding the other times. But today, her skirt showed off a shapely figure.

  “I’m sure she’ll be okay. Staying in bed just seemed the smart thing to do.” Opening the door, Reba held it for him while wiping at the sweat gathering on her brow. “At least she listens to reason when she’s sick. You can’t tell some of these old folks anything.” Logan set the pot down in a corner, turning to look back at Reba with a grin on his face. He could tell she was blushing, even through the heavy makeup. “Well, what I mean is, some of us have more sense than others.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to look at her? I’ve been trained in—”

  “No! No! I’m sure she’ll be fine.” She quickly turned to exit the porch. “Goodness, it looks like we’re going to get some more rain.”

  She was right. Logan took in the moving clouds and darkening sky. Palm trees were swaying wildly as the wind picked up. And he was certain he’d felt the first drops of rain when he stepped back outside.

  “I can’t believe how fast the weather changes,” she said, rushing for the front of the house.

  “We’ll probably continue to get rain on and off for a day or two,” Logan explained, right behind her.

  “I know that!” she snapped, trying to keep her skirt down around her legs. She turned to Logan with a spark in her eyes. “I was just making conversation.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. In spite of her outrageous getup the sight of her shapely legs caused something to stir in his gut. Perhaps it was remembering what they felt like wrapped around his waist.

  All of a sudden she slipped and Logan reached out to stop her from falling. Only the grass was still wet and slippery and his leg shot out from under him. He felt himself going down and landed on his rump, with Libby on his lap. He barely swallowed a groan when her bottom ended up squarely on his groin.

  “Oh!” she cried out breathlessly, forgetting to use her Miss Reba voice.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” Logan’s nose was in her hair and he lowered his face until he was able to breathe the light fragrance against the back of her neck. It stirred more senses than he thought he had.

  “What are you doing?” Libby asked sharply, leaning away from him.

  She must have felt his nose against her skin. “Nothing, ma’am.” He smiled, flexing his hands at her waist and feeling the soft padding there. “I was just noticing you wear the same fragrance that Libby does.”

  “Stop that! Let me up!” She began to wiggle. “Goodness, if the neighbors see us…”

  Logan squeezed his eyes shut and savored the friction of Libby’s bottom as it rocked against his zipper, realizing his body was responding. Letting Libby know he wanted her was one thing, but there was no way he was going to let her think a seventy-year-old woman was turning him on. She’d think he was a pervert or something. He effortlessly pushed her off his lap and to her feet, before getting to his own.

  “Oh!” She swung around to glare at him, her eyes snapping at him from behind her thick glasses. Logan put on his best I don’t know what happened look.

  “Libby! The weatherman said there’s a tornado warning!” Margaret yelled from inside.

  With a huff Libby turned and continued the way they’d been going. They came to a stop at the bottom of the steps that led up to the door. Logan was sure he could see Libby’s face turning red beneath the layers of makeup, as they stood there looking at each other without saying a word. He couldn’t wait to see how she handled this situation.

  “Libby! Did you hear me?” Margaret’s voice moved closer as she came to the front door. “Oh!” she gasped upon seeing Logan. “I didn’t know you were here, Logan.” Her eyes darted to Libby.

  “Just helping Reba out,” he explained. “I thought Libby was sick in bed.”

  Margaret’s expression showed her surprise. “Bed, why …”

  “Libby’s not out here,” Libby said between her teeth, stating the obvious.

  “Well, I can see that now,” Margaret began, wringing her hands, the screen door not doing anything to disguise the color spreading across her cheeks. “When I heard the noise out here I just naturally assumed it was her.”

  “Thank you for helping me, Logan, but you’d best head back home and tell Vincent about the tornado.” Libby opened the door to head back inside. Her actions forced Margaret to jump out of the way or be mowed over. “I think I see him waving you home.”

  “Any time,” he offered, realizing he was being dismissed.

  “She doesn’t mean to come off sounding so harsh,” Margaret began in an apologetic tone. “I think she’s just nervous over the weather.”

  Margaret’s voice pulled his eyes back to her. “Reba doesn’t bother me, Margaret.” However, Libby did. He shook his head to get thoughts of her out of it. He was going to the doctor in the morning. Hopefully he’d be given a clean bill of health so he could return to work, something he loved doing. So why then did the thought of returning to California suddenly depress him? He knew the answer to that.

  Because Libby wasn’t there.

  Chapter 13

  “Wow, don’t you look spiffy.” Libby had just finished up the supper dishes when she turned to see Margaret enter the kitchen. She’d disappeared earlier for a shower and Libby had expected her to return in her nightgown and robe. It was obvious by her attire that she wasn’t going to bed. “Where are you off to?” She took note of the dab of lipstick on her lips and the light fragrance of the body lotion she favored. And was that a blush on her cheeks?

  “I, ah, I’ve been invited to go to a movie.” Was it her imagination or did her grandmother seem like she was nervous? “A date?” The exclamation rushed from Libby before she could stop it.

  “Did I say it was a date? If you must know, Vincent asked me. There’s several of us going. So it’s not a date.”

  Libby went to Margaret and gave her a hug, careful to keep her wet hands from touching her. “Well, I think it’s wonderful that you’re going out for a change, Gram. Someplace other than bingo and Monday morning coffee.” She finished her show of affection with a kiss upon Margaret’s cheek.

  “Just as long as you know it’s not a date,” Margaret said stubbornly. “What will you do all evening?” She draped a light blue sweater over her arm.

  Libby shrugged and went back to the sink to finish wiping it down. She thought about Logan. She hadn’t seen him in two days. But earlier she’d seen him leaving Vincent’s on his motorcycle. He’d seen her on the porch as Reba and had waved at her as he took off.

  What was she going to do about him? She couldn’t keep him out of her head, day or night. How many times had she woken during the night, wanting him and wishing he wer
e there beside her? Even now, just thinking about him caused pleasant warmth to flow throughout her body, a tingling in her nipples with remembrance of his mouth on them.

  “Libby?”

  “I’ll find something to do.” Maybe she’d call Leslie and Pat and meet them somewhere. She didn’t really feel like bar hopping though…

  “Why don’t you invite Logan over and watch a movie?”

  What? Where had that come from? Libby spun around from the sink to face the amusement on her grandmother’s face. “I doubt Logan wants to spend the night watching TV with Reba,” she joked.

  “Well, I didn’t mean for you to stay in that awful garb. He’s probably lonely for some company his own age.”

  “I doubt he’s lonely.” Libby thought about the bar down the street, wondering if that’s where he was. “Besides, he’s not home.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw him leave.” She saw Vincent’s face appear through the screen door, thankful he’d arrived to pick up her grandmother before they got too deep into a conversation about Logan. “Come on in, Vincent.” She smiled.

  “Evening, Reba!” His tone held more animation than usual.

  And what was up with his hair? He’d taken what was left of it and glued it down with something that gave it a shiny gleam. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from curving upwards.

  “You’re early,” Margaret snapped.

  “I’m right on time.” He shot Libby a wink. “Why can’t you be friendlier like Reba?”

  Margaret huffed. “If you wanted someone friendlier like Reba you should have asked her to go with you.”

  “Well, if that’s the way you feel…”

  “Children!” Libby scolded, watching the exchange between them with amusement. It occurred to her that the only time her grandmother acted the way she was acting now was when Vincent was around. Or if someone mentioned his name. The tone of her voice caused their eyes to swing her way. “You haven’t even left yet and you’re fighting. Maybe you need a chaperone.”

  “We’ll be good, Reba.” Vincent gave her another wink.

  “Margaret’s just nervous. First time she’s been on a date in years.”

  “It’s not a date!” She practically glared at Vincent, who only smiled back at her like he always did.

  “Whatever you say.” He opened the door. “We best be going or we’ll be late for the start of the movie.” He waited expectedly for Margaret to go out. “We still have to pick up Sue and Don.”

  “What time can I expect you lovebirds back?” Libby’s joke was met with a fierce glare from her grandmother.

  With a huff Margaret glanced up at Vincent as she walked past him to go outside. “Don’t expect us back until late. Probably nine or so.”

  Libby just managed to stifle a laugh. Since when was nine o’clock late? “Okay. Have a good time then.” She stepped up to the screen door and watched them walk over to Vincent’s house for the car. “Enjoy your date!”

  “It’s not a date!”

  Laughing softly, Libby turned and reached for the phone to call Pat. After the sixth ring and there was no answer she dialed Leslie’s number. Chances were they were together anyway. She hung up when she heard a car in the drive, expecting Vincent and her grandmother had returned for something. But when she stepped back to the screen door her eyes widened with alarm when she saw it was Scott. Forgetting all about her disguise she quickly opened the door, determined to meet him before he had a chance to even get out of his car. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with him in the house again.

  As she walked up to his sporty Firebird he opened the window, took one look at her and burst out laughing. “I see it but I don’t believe it! When your parents told me…”

  Libby glanced around to see if anyone was close enough to hear his over loud comments. “What are you doing here?” She cut him off with a harsh whisper, angry with her parents for their interference. When would they get it through their heads that it was over between her and Scott? For that matter, when would he? “Don’t even think about getting out of the car.”

  He totally ignored her and opened the door, forcing Libby to take a step back. “Oh, I plan on doing a lot more than just getting out, baby.” His tone was beyond arrogant, it was filled with a smug confidence that backed up the I have the upper hand look in his laughing eyes.

  Libby wondered what he was up to. “What do you want?” She returned a wave from the Nelsons as they walked down their driveway for their evening stroll, careful to keep her voice down. When she returned her eyes to Scott it was to catch him giving her the once-over with a leering grin on his face. He was looking straight through her disguise.

  “You! he whispered sharply. “And you know what, my beautiful Libby? Thanks to your folks I’ve found a way to get you back.” He paused for effect, the look in his eyes worrying her. “On my terms.”

  “What? You’re crazy, Scott. I meant what I said the other day.” Libby began to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Scott was too sure of himself. The look on his face reminded her of all the times he’d won, whether it was by his skill in the courtroom or in their private lives, when she’d given in to his practiced charm. “It’s over between us.”

  “Is it?”

  He surprised Libby by reaching forward; only she reared back, remaining just out of reach. “I want you to leave.” She glanced at the couple riding by on their bikes making sure they weren’t within earshot then added, “Now, Scott. And I don’t want to see you again.”

  “Really?” Scott leaned back against his car and crossed his arms, getting a little too comfortable as far as Libby was concerned. He didn’t look like he was about to leave anytime soon. “You’re not in any position to tell me what to do. As long as you want to keep your little secret you’ll be doing what I want from here on out,” he continued arrogantly.

  “My little secret?” With a sinking heart Libby knew what Scott was getting at, she just couldn’t believe he would stoop so low just to get her back. She’d underestimated him.

  “Come on, baby. The only reason you’re masquerading around in this old lady disguise is to stay here with your grandmother, so they won’t put her in some old folks’ home. Your being here breaks the rules.”

  “So what are you saying? You’re going to give me away if I don’t go back to you? You’d do that to my grandmother?” He shrugged. “Mom and Dad think a lot of you, Scott. If they knew you were blackmailing me like this…”

  “I prefer to think of it as a means to make you see reason, baby. We belong together.”

  Libby realized her mistake in not letting Scott inside the house because it kept her from slapping his arrogant face. She couldn’t take the chance that someone might see them. Tears of frustration filled her eyes. What made it worse was the look of triumph in his. She was so mad that she couldn’t speak. She swung around to pull herself together. How could she ever have thought she loved this man?

  Movement from Vincent’s porch drew her gaze in that direction. It was Logan. He was just standing there, looking tall and powerful, and watching them. He raised his arm and took a drink of something. Libby wondered how long he’d been there, and if he’d heard anything. He must think it strange to see Reba and Scott so engrossed in a conversation.

  “Don’t think lover boy is going to save you this time either.”

  Libby rolled her eyes and reached up to wipe at her eyes beneath the glasses. Before she could face Scott again Logan opened the door and began walking their way. His expression was hard to read, and the closer he got the more she was able to make out the anger burning in his eyes. For a moment she let herself believe it was for her, that he somehow sensed she needed him and was coming to rescue her. But how could that be?

  Their eyes met. For a heart stopping moment Libby had a strong feeling that Logan knew the truth about her. His mouth tightened as his gaze moved over her.

  “Good evening, Logan.” She lowered her eyes, afraid she’d g
ive herself away.

  “What do you want?” Scott asked not giving Logan a chance to respond to her.

  Libby’s gaze shot up to Logan, watching for his reaction.

  His gaze moved over her head to where Scott was. “I want to talk to you.”

  What in the world did Logan want to talk to Scott about?

  She turned, having the satisfaction of seeing Scott’s face pale slightly. Gone was the smug self assured man of a moment ago.

  “Do you mind giving us a few minutes, Reba?” Logan asked.

  Her gaze went to Scott. Would he give her away? She knew him well enough to know she couldn’t trust the slight narrowing of his eyes. It was his way of warning her, reminding Libby that he had the upper hand. She loved her grandmother, but there was no way she was going to let him blackmail her into going back to him. She couldn’t stand the thought of his hands on her again.

  “Not at all.” Her voice cracked naturally. “And when you’re done talking you might as well go home, Scott. Libby isn’t here.”

  There! That should tell him exactly what she thought about his underhanded techniques. It might cost her, but she at least had the satisfaction of seeing the disbelief fill his eyes. If he decided to ruin everything she’d deal with it when the time came. But something told her Scott would keep her secret as long as he thought it still gave him some leverage. He wasn’t one who gave in at the first sign of failure.

  She turned and made a hasty retreat back into the house, closing the door behind her to peer at them for a moment through the small window. It looked like Logan was doing most of the talking. She wished she could hear what he was saying. Judging by the look on Scott’s face he didn’t like it one bit. He hadn’t moved from his position against his car. Then something Scott said caused Logan to make a sudden move. Libby caught her breath when he grabbed Scott by the front of the shirt, his biceps flexing as he yanked Scott close to utter something in his face, before tossing him back against his car.