Heat spread all along her body and settled nice and low in her belly.
“You okay to drive your car to my place?” he whispered in her ear.
She just nodded, no longer sleepy in the slightest.
Both of their cars were at the arena, so he followed her back to his house, the lights of his Mercedes a constant presence in her rearview mirror. The second they got there, he promptly carried her upstairs and stripped her out of her clothes.
They’d fallen asleep wrapped up in each other, but Abby woke up alone the following morning. The other side of Logan’s bed empty.
She sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes, and looked around the room. There was a note on the nightstand next to her, tucked underneath her phone.
She reached over and grabbed it, yawning as she unfolded it.
Red, went for a run. You better be here when I get back.—Logan
She smiled as she fell back against the pillows, her arms going wide as she stretched out in the bed.
Today promised to be a good one because she was spending it with Logan. He’d suggested going out on his boat, spending the day on the water. Her suitcase was still in the trunk of her car where she left it, because she hadn’t needed it for anything last night. But over the last couple of months she’d left some things over here, like her bathing suit, a toothbrush, and some extra panties.
Speaking of which, she should probably grab a pair. She was only wearing one of his old T-shirts, her favorite one with the hole in the collar.
Logan might be all about going commando all the time, but she wasn’t.
She headed over to his dresser, unsure of which drawer he’d put her stuff in. When she pulled the top one on the left open, she found socks. She was surprised to discover that the second drawer held boxer briefs, but she supposed he probably had to wear underwear during games and such.
The drawer underneath that held T-shirts and right before she closed it to move on, she caught a glimpse of bright pink paper sticking out of the corner. She was reaching for it before she even realized what she was doing, pulling it from the folds of fabric.
It wasn’t a piece of paper, but a picture. Actually, a stack of pictures.
The photo on top was of Logan holding a little girl; the pink was from her dress. She was a tiny thing with chubby cheeks, long light brown hair, and green-gold eyes. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she grinned at the camera.
She flipped the picture and looked at the back, Logan’s familiar handwriting scrawled across it.
Madison’s third birthday
Abby flipped to the next one. Logan was holding a bundle of bright yellow blankets, a sleeping baby wrapped snuggly in between the cotton folds. He wasn’t looking at the camera, but was staring down at the child with adoration.
She flipped to the back again.
Madison James Thomas, June 4th
She went through the stack, seeing Madison riding a bike when she was four. Then a two-year-old Madison covered in spaghetti sitting in a high chair. Madison lying in a pile of Christmas paper giggling up at the camera. Madison wearing a black and white polka-dot dress, Adele wearing the exact same outfit, standing beside her while both of them blew kisses to the camera.
The next was of the little girl and an older couple Abby assumed were Logan’s parents. The woman looked an awful lot like Adele and the man resembled Logan. They were building a snowman, Madison’s snowsuit making her look a bit like a purple marshmallow.
And then one of Madison sitting in the lap of a man. He had Adele’s dark brown hair and Logan’s strong jaw. He was showing the little girl how to pluck the strings. A quick skim of the back informed her of what she already knew. He was Liam, Logan’s brother.
There was no doubt in her mind that the little girl belonged to Logan. A little girl he had never mentioned. And as Abby went through the stack, her heart grew heavier with each picture.
Why? Why wouldn’t he have said anything? And where was she?
But when Abby got to the last picture everything became clear.
Madison was in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. Though those eyes of hers looked exhausted, her smile was still just as big. She was wearing a yellow beanie with a black Michigan M on the front. Logan was sitting next to her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders while she leaned back into his chest.
And even though he was smiling, too, she could see the pain and devastation in his eyes.
Madison’s fifth birthday.
There were no more photos after this.
Abby had noticed the lack of pictures in Logan’s house the first time she’d been here. Sure there was art, photos of the mountains of Tennessee, trees emerging from the fog, but there were no pictures of people. No faces looking out from frames.
So many things started to click into place. Adele being so protective of her brother. Logan not giving Abby a hard time when she’d asked him to visit Dale. Logan going to visit the kids in the hospital, getting Jace and Andre to come with him. His insistence that his personal life stay private. He didn’t want his daughter’s death to become a spectacle.
But how was it that nobody knew about it? What happened to Madison’s mother? Who was she? Why wasn’t Logan still with her?
She straightened the pictures and returned them to the place she’d pulled them from. She closed the drawer, her hands resting on the wood for just a second.
Why did she feel like she’d just done something she shouldn’t have? That she’d invaded his privacy? She wasn’t upset that he hadn’t told her about Madison. It was his business, his very painful business. She’d kept the damage of her father to herself until she’d been ready to tell him, so Logan was entitled to keep this to himself.
But how was she supposed to go about acting like she didn’t know?
She was pulled out of her thoughts when a door closed downstairs. Her hands fell away from the wood and she moved on to the next drawer. She found her belongings stacked next to his athletic shorts and grabbed a pair of lime-green cotton panties and headed toward his bathroom.
For some reason she thought that if she found some underwear she’d be able to face him.
That was some great logic there.
Not.
* * *
Abby headed downstairs five minutes later with her brain still buzzing. The pictures kept flipping through her brain like a slide show. One after the other after the other. She reached up and rubbed at the spot over her heart. It ached in a way she associated with the death of Paige’s father, Trevor.
A loss that was deep and permanent.
When she stepped off the last stair, she heard a noise in the kitchen and headed that way. She found Logan with his head sticking out of the refrigerator, bent over at the waist and his very fine ass on display. He was wearing a pair of jeans, and Abby’s eyes immediately darted over to the clock on the stove.
How long had she slept? He’d said he was going for a run, but had he been back long enough to shower and change?
She moved to him automatically, needing her hands on him even more than she’d been prepared for.
“How long have you been up?” she asked, running her hands up his back.
He tensed as he straightened, and as Abby’s hands reached around to his chest, she knew immediately he wasn’t Logan.
She dropped her hands and moved back just as the man turned. It took her very confused brain a moment to process, but she recognized him from the pictures she’d just looked through upstairs.
Dark brown hair that was slightly shaggy and rumpled, green-gold eyes, and a strong-stubbled jaw.
“Oh. My. God.” She said the words in a whisper, horrified. She’d pretty much just felt up Logan’s brother.
“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting. You must be Red. I’m Liam.” His eyes looked her over, taking in her bare legs before they darted back up and fixed on her eyes.
Logan’s shirt was long enough to hit her past mid-thigh, but she wasn’t wearing
a bra. Thank the good Lord she’d put on panties.
“This isn’t happening. Tell me this isn’t happening and that I’m still asleep. Tell me this is a horrible nightmare.”
His mouth quirked to the side in a manner that was very Logan, except not. “I’m sorry to tell you that it isn’t.” He shook his head.
She nodded as she took a step back toward the door. “Excuse me while I go die of embarrassment.” She turned and ran smack into Logan’s sweaty chest.
* * *
Logan reached out, grabbing Abby’s shoulders and steadying her before she tripped and fell to the floor.
“What the—” His eyes took in Abby and her pants-less state before they darted to his brother, who was still standing in front of the open refrigerator.
Logan immediately stepped forward and pulled Abby behind him, blocking her from view. He was long since used to Liam popping in and out; it was one of the reasons his brother had a key to the house. It was just that there was normally a call before the popping in. Though to be fair, Logan wasn’t always the best about keeping up with dates during the season.
“Did I know you were coming?”
“Last-minute gig in Savannah. Got booked for a festival when another band canceled. I was in Orlando and thought I’d stop through. Adele told me I needed to meet your new girlfriend.” Hot he mouthed as he gave Logan a thumbs-up.
Logan just scowled. “Forget how to use a phone?”
“No, but you did. I called last night and this morning. Multiple times. No answer.”
Okay, so maybe this one was on Logan. But to be fair he’d been on an airplane and then forgot to turn it on as he’d been pretty distracted through the rest of the night. And then this morning he’d been working out.
“Make yourself useful and cook breakfast. We will be right back.” He turned and grabbed Abby’s shoulders, guiding her out of the kitchen while still blocking her from view.
“Nice to meet you, Abby!” Liam called out after them.
“Has to be a nightmare,” Abby whispered under her breath. “Has to be.”
Logan had never seen her move so fast as she practically sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom. He shut the door behind them and she turned, her hands covering her cheeks as her face took on a shade of bright red.
“That didn’t just happen.”
“Could’ve been worse.”
Her hands dropped and the horror turned to disbelief. “Oh, I don’t think so. You missed the part where I felt him up.”
“You what?” Okay, he was changing the locks.
“I thought he was you! Thank God I didn’t grab his ass.” Her head fell into her hands and she groaned.
He was trying not to laugh, really he was. It wasn’t funny. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about the fact that his brother had just seen Abby half-naked.
His girlfriend as Liam had called her. That made him smile.
He moved forward, pulling her hands from her face. “So is this now the most embarrassing moment of your life?”
He knew that it had been when she was thirteen and fallen down at some birthday party at the skating rink. She’d split her pants right open, revealing bright orange panties.
She bit down on the corner of her lip and he knew she was trying hard not to laugh. “Why is it that me being embarrassed always has to involve my underwear?”
“Look on the bright side, it would’ve been that much worse if you hadn’t been wearing any underwear at all.”
“That’s the bright side?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
He looked down, pulling the shirt up so that he could see her lime-green panties. “They look pretty bright to me,” he said as he nodded.
“You aren’t helping,” she said, swatting his hands. The fabric fell back down and covered her thighs.
“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and led her toward the bathroom. “Let’s take a shower. I promise you’ll feel much better afterward.”
“I don’t think hot water has that kind of healing power.”
He let go of her hand, reached inside the shower, and turned the water on. He tested it a few times before he turned back to her.
“Red, I wasn’t talking about the hot water.” He stripped down before he walked back over to her, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and pulled it up and over her head. It hadn’t even hit the floor before his mouth dropped to her nipple and he sucked it deep into his mouth.
Her groan echoed off the tile as her head fell back on her shoulders. His mouth let go of her nipple with a soft pop.
“By the time I’m done with you that flush on your face is going to have nothing to do with embarrassment.”
And with that, he picked her up and carried her into the shower, bright green panties and all.
* * *
Logan stretched his legs out in front of him, bringing the sweaty glass of sweet tea to his mouth and taking a drink. A loud bark rent the air, pulling his gaze to the two women who stood out on the lawn and the Dalmatian that was running toward them with a ball in its mouth.
Logan’s eyes ran down Abby’s body, taking in her relaxed shoulders and the easy smile on her face. She’d managed to get over the whole incident that happened in the kitchen that morning.
Well, kind of. Her cheeks turned slightly pink whenever she looked Liam in the face.
After Logan’s shower with her that morning, he called Adele and told her to come over, preferably with some clothes that would fit Abby. She didn’t have anything to change into besides business clothes from the Stampede’s week on the road, or her bathing suit that she now left at his house. He knew neither of those were an option, and as she wouldn’t be leaving his house until the following morning, she needed something.
Abby and Adele were in no manner built the same way. His sister had gotten the height gene like the rest of the James family. She came in at five-foot-nine, and though both women were curvy, Abby’s hourglass figure had a few more minutes than Adele’s.
But because Adele had a wardrobe for about ten people in the many closets of her house, she found something that worked—a long dress that cinched around the waist and stretched down to the ground. Adele had hemmed it quickly when she got to Logan’s, telling a protesting Abby she could keep the outfit because it looked better on her.
To say that Logan was a fan of Abby in the dress would be an understatement. It was red, so of course he liked it. The straps at her shoulders were only a few inches thick, and it dipped just low enough in the front and the back.
Katharine Hepburn, Adele’s Dalmatian—a gift from Logan and Liam two Christmases ago—dropped the ball in Abby’s hand. She took it before she bent over and rubbed the dog’s head enthusiastically.
“Red fits right in,” Liam said from the chair next to Logan.
“She does.” Logan nodded. She fit right into his life almost immediately. And wasn’t that a bit of a scary thought?
“She’s different from any other woman I’ve seen you with.”
Logan’s gaze shifted from the women and he turned to look at his brother. “How so?” he asked as his eyebrows rose up his face.
Liam finished off his own glass of tea, the ice cubes clinking as he put it down on the table. He leaned back in his chair as he studied Logan from behind his aviator glasses.
“She’s… real.”
Logan didn’t need to ask what his brother meant by that. Both the women and the relationships he’d been in lately had been superficial to say the least. All surface. Nothing of real substance. That was the only way he could do it.
But Abby? Well, she was substance all right.
“There’s this look in your eyes,” Liam continued. “A small piece of happiness. Which is something I haven’t seen in eight years.”
Logan looked away from his brother, his gaze landing on Abby again. The wind shifted, blowing the skirt of her dress around the back of her legs. Her auburn hair was thrown up in a messy bun on top of her head, she wasn’t wearing an ounce of makeup,
and her bare feet were peeking through the blades of grass.
He was hard pressed to decide if he thought she looked more stunning in this moment than she had the night of the charity dinner in a very different red dress.
Red.
It always came back to that color. Her red hair that spread out across the pillows while she slept. Her red lipstick that made him crave to taste her mouth. Her red lace that she wrapped herself in while wearing those red heels on Valentine’s Day…
Valentine’s Day. The night when everything changed. The night when he fell in love with her.
Love? No, no, no.
Where the hell had that come from?
Logan pulled his gaze from Abby, his throat constricting and making it difficult for him to breathe.
That was… that was way too fucking soon.
His mouth went dry, so he brought his glass to his lips and tried to take a drink, but his throat wasn’t working and he choked on the tea.
Liam did a double take between Abby and Logan. “Fuck man, really?” Liam asked, raising his eyebrows as he shifted in his seat.
“Shut up, it isn’t anything to worry about.”
“Bullshit. You look like you’re about to hit the ground running. I just wonder if it’s going to be toward something or away from it.”
“I said don’t worry about it.”
“Uh-huh,” Liam shook his head, disbelief clear.
Yeah, well, he could wonder all he wanted, because Logan had no fucking clue.
Chapter Twelve
Challenged
Abby stared at her computer screen for a full five minutes, the cursor blinking in the document waiting for her to finish the sentence.
Daughter, Madison James Thomas, died age five from…
But she couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t bring herself to type the words. Not from a lack of information, because she knew exactly how Logan’s daughter had died.
Undressed Page 11
