His minty breath mingled with her own and she breathed him in, her head hazy with all of her objections. Still, as his tongue teased her lips, she couldn’t pull together a coherent thought, let alone a coherent complaint.
And with the way he nibbled her bottom lip, complaints were the last thing on her mind. All she wanted to do was give in, to tangle her own tongue with his and enjoy the sweet heat of his rough palm against the nape of her neck. To close her eyes and feel his fingers as they wove through her strands of hair…
His tongue swept into her mouth and she kissed him back without thinking, swirling around him and leaning in close. Allowing herself to wrap her arms around him and close her eyes.
This was what she’d dreamt of for so long. What she’d feared.
Even if all those concerns were real, she was finding it harder to believe them by the second. More and more, her thoughts turned to his warm, big hands and what they’d feel like as they roamed the rest of her body.
She’d been afraid of this before. That when she finally kissed him, she’d lose the shield that allowed her to see Logan for who he was. That she’d forget that he could do better.
Her fear was entirely founded. But worse? She had no intention of caring about that fear anytime soon. Right now, this moment was hers. Logan was hers.
But suddenly it was over. He pulled away and she swayed for a moment before leaning back against the wall.
"What are you doing tonight?" he asked, all casual-like, almost as if his tongue hadn’t just been down her throat.
What kind of devil had he sold his soul to in order to seem so smooth all the time?
"Nothing." She breathed the answer. It was pitiful to admit aloud, a twenty-something woman with no plans on a Friday night, but even if she'd had to disarm ten bombs, she was pretty sure she would have given him the same answer.
"I'll pick you up around sev—no, eight." And just like that, he stepped away from her and was heading for the door.
"What are we going to do?" she shouted after him.
"No questions," he called back and the wide, chrome door swung closed behind him.
Chapter 7
He shouldn’t have brought her here.
He’d known it the moment he’d suggested it, and still he couldn’t bring himself to take the offer back. The whole ride to the stadium, he’d considered it. Had thought maybe he could make up an illness and get himself out of this whole mess.
The line he’d drawn between himself and Andy was so far behind him he couldn’t see it in his rearview, but he was still edging closer, like she was magnetically charged specifically for him.
And the more time he spent with her, the more he thought that might be the case.
It had been this way between them once before—easy and casual. A long, long time ago, when they’d both still been in college and he and Matt were still dreaming of making the pros. Too bad he’d been too stupid back then to see what a catch she was.
Sure, she was gorgeous now, but the more time he spent with her, the less it mattered. She could have been a troll for all he cared. He just wanted to spend time with her. Wanted to kiss her again the way he had earlier and do so much more.
Looking at her now, sliding from his truck in her bare feet, he wondered if she felt the same way. There was still a slight distance from her, and he had to wonder if it was because he wasn’t her type. Or because he’d gone too far with their kiss. Or because of his friendship with Matt.
Or because of the accident….
The thought was a constant refrain in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. If she was upset about Matt, she wouldn’t be here.
“You brought me to the stadium?” she asked, her gaze roving over the massive building in front of her. “Is this even legal?”
“Legal is a relative term.” He smirked and ushered her toward his secret passage.
He’d figured it out a few years before, and ever since he’d come here more often than he was willing to admit. After games and when the season was over—as it was now—and the place was like a ghost town.
There was something about it that comforted him. It was more than just the usual feeling he had when he was playing. No, when the adrenaline of competition had worn off, this place still called to him. It was his place for quiet reflection.
His sanctuary.
They ducked under the last security fence until finally they were in the stands, looking high over row upon row of empty seats. He made for the worn-out circuit box and pushed, watching as each of the stadium’s massive lights flickered and then bloomed into life.
"Wow." Andy's breath caught. "This is amazing."
As if she'd forgotten he was with her, she hopped down the flights of stairs, like a child let loose at a carnival. When she reached the first concrete railing, she leaned over and shouted, "Hello."
When no echo answered her, she faced him with the most distracting pout ever created by man.
"It doesn't work like that," he called after her and made his way down the stairs.
"Can we go out on the field?" she asked, slightly breathless.
"You know, other women would have been more excited about the shopping spree."
She quirked an eyebrow and flew down the steps again until she was finally in the row above the dugout, leaning over the railing like she was seriously considering the jump.
He followed behind her again, and when he was finally beside her, she asked, "Will I mess it up if I go out there?"
"No. But let me go first." He climbed over the railing and stood on the metal roof of the dugout. He held a hand out to her to help her over, but she didn't take it. Instead, she straddled the railing in her dress and swung over the iron like she was on the monkey bars.
"You can't be trusted," he said.
She smiled in response before jumping from the roof and rolling onto the dirt below. He followed suit, though he opted to land on his feet instead of her messier technique.
"So this is what it's like?" She ran her hands over the front of her dress and it was a struggle not to watch her fingers as they curved over her breasts, down her flat stomach, and over her toned thighs. Even as he repeated over and over to himself not to watch her, he found his gaze fixed on her cleavage, on her slightly-too-short dress.
Thank God she was too busy staring at the empty stands to notice his attention. If she had so much as glanced at him, he would have been completely found out.
Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Yeah. It's pretty cool."
Finally, she directed her attention toward him again and said, “So why did you bring me here?"
"You sounded like you needed to think. This is where I do my best thinking." He strolled to the pitcher's mound and sat. From that angle, her legs went on forever. Maybe if he could convince her to stay there, feet away from him, he'd be able to get a better perspective on the situation, too. It couldn't be so bad to be with Andy. She was a grown woman. Matt would understand.
She walked toward him and plopped down. Apparently she was determined to force him into noticing the warmth of her body beside him, the silkiness of her skin.
Like she was an agent of chaos sent specifically to drive him insane.
"What is that you, Logan Grant, world-class catcher and all-around lady killer, would need to think about?" she asked.
He held his breath for a moment, not sure how to answer. In truth, he didn't used to come here all that much. Maybe he'd been here a few times after he'd found the secret entrance, when he needed time alone, but not nearly as much as he'd been here after the accident.
Since then, he'd been here nearly every day, trying to clear his head and face Matt. Trying to face himself.
He'd sworn he wouldn't tell Andy any of that. Her family had suffered enough without reminding her of everything he'd caused, but what else could he say?
Opting for vagueness, he said, "Life."
"Existential." She stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed one delicate ank
le over the other. "You know, I mostly just chill in my bed. When I need to think or to make some tough decisions, I go to the beach."
"The beach?" This surprised him. Of all the people he knew in San Diego, Andy was among a small handful that he’d never been to the shore with. In fact, he’d never even heard her talk about it before
"Yeah. I know, it’s kind of weird since I don’t really do the whole bikini thing. I’m more of a sensible, one-piece type gal."
He bit back the urge to tell her they needed to go shopping again and waited for her to continue.
“Anyway, I like to go to the shore and watch the sea lions when they come in. Or sometimes I just watch the waves. It makes me calm, you know? My brother, Derrick, and I used to go to the beach a lot before he was deployed. I always used to try to pick out girls for him while we watched the people passing.” She smiled at something Logan couldn’t see, but shook her head and continued.
“I like the beach. Now that Derrick is stationed in Hawaii, it makes me feel closer to him. Like he’s not so far away. And when I have to make a tough decision or think something over, I always go to the beach. It makes me feel…I don’t know. Centered, I guess.”
"When was the last time you went?" he asked.
When she met his gaze, it was tentatively. But when she spoke, it was hard as nails, like she was daring him to say something else. "Derrick called last week and told me that he found our mother. She was on vacation in Hawaii with her family. I guess she has two little girls now. New husband, too."
For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say, but she saved him from the necessity of having to answer. "I had to decide whether to call her. Or to contact her."
"And what did you do?"
She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear and said, "I've moved on. I decided it doesn't matter."
"I'm happy for you."
Her brows drew together and she scooted back. "Happy for me? That's a new one. People always tell me how sorry they are for me or ask how terrible it was to grow up without a mom."
"What good does any of that do?" She asked, knowing the answer. None. And he knew it firsthand. The sympathy was nice, but nobody needed it, not when it didn't come with understanding.
“All that shit is tough. I'm happy that you're tougher." He surveyed her, suddenly questioning why she'd told him all of that. Matt never had, and they were best friends. And now, after one day together, Andy was spilling family secrets?
Did she expect him to share his own demons? Like after one date he was going to explain to her the months of guilt he'd been wracked with?
No, there wasn't any anticipation in her features. Just the same sweet thoughtfulness that had been there before. But for whatever reason, that look alone made him want to tell her everything.
"I started coming here after Matt got hurt. I was fucked up afterward, you know? I couldn't go to the hospital, I could hardly play. I felt so guilty. Sometimes I would come here and replay it in my mind. Look at the base from all the different angles and see how I could have done things differently. It didn't change anything, but I thought if I could prove to myself that there was no other way, then maybe I might feel a little better. Like somehow I could make good."
He'd expected her to say something. People always did, always interjected with their arguments and their sympathy. Instead, she nodded, her expression as fixed as ever.
"It doesn't help. But it's something. Better than sitting in my apartment and watching ESPN until my eyes fall out of my head. Better than seeing the articles in the magazines." He finished speaking, unsure what else there was to add. Whatever there was, for some reason he felt like she would already know. Like she'd suspected all of this from the very start.
"Life lets you build up a lot of regrets if you let it, I guess." She lay back, resting her head on the dirt until her entire body was stretched across the ground. "It's a tough thing...so many things that could have gone differently. So many things that could have gone worse or better." She shook her head and closed her eyes, pulling in a deep sigh.
It was her way of showing sympathy. It wasn't an apology or a condolence. It was understanding. And for some reason, it was the only thing that had helped him feel even slightly better since the whole catastrophe had happened.
The only sound was the chirping of the late autumn crickets for a moment, and he took it in as the gridlocked tension in his chest eased for the first time in what felt like forever. Andy didn't open her eyes; she just lay on the ground, smiling and thoughtful.
Gorgeous.
So he thought over her speech again, and realized that he had more than one regret where the Archer family was concerned. If she could help him with one, then he was certain she could help him solve the other. He just had to convince her.
"Since we're getting all deep and spiritual—"
She snorted. "Is that what you call it?"
"For lack of a better word, I guess, yeah. But, can I ask you a question?"
She leaned up onto her elbows, eying him for a long moment before she said, "Shoot."
"Do you ever regret not spending more time together? Back in college, I mean."
She blinked twice, then said, "Sometimes.”
“It was weird. We used to, I think. I remember hanging out on a quad with you. The more I think about it, though, the more it seems like one day we just stopped being friends.”
"Do you remember inviting me to a Halloween party? Back in freshman year?”
He shook his head.
“I thought…well, I was an idiot, but I thought it was sort of like a date. I went to that party all dolled up and looking absurd." Her words were quiet and thoughtful. "I was there. For a few minutes, at least. You were already gone. Off with some girl." Her lids shielded her gaze from view, but he could feel the hurt in her words no matter how hard she was trying to hide it. “It was stupid, I know. But after that, it was too weird to be around you. I didn’t want to be hurt again. Especially not by you.”
“I was a fucking idiot.” His chest tightened, but he knew the words were true. If he could turn back time, he would have noticed her at that party. Hell, he might have stayed by the door all night just to get a look at her. If he could have changed his fate, he would have seen what a great girl she was back then. “I never meant to lead you on like that.”
She shrugged. "I was young and stupid. You were the star of the whole university. I should have known that I was just your friend's sister so you wanted me to tag along. I felt like such a fool. I mean, I know I'm not like all the other women in your repertoire but—"
"If I could go back and do it all differently, I would. You’re not like other women I’ve been with, but believe me when I tell you that it’s only to your credit." He repeated the word, trying to process all she'd said. It made so much sense now. The tension, the sudden avoidance tactics. She'd thought he'd led her on. Had played her. "I wish I could go back and make things different."
It was the truth. From the first moment they'd spent together that day, he couldn't imagine how he'd been away from her for so many years. She was so unique, such a bright contrast to all of the cookie cutter women he'd known, and imagining going back to a life without Andy already seemed completely unreasonable.
"If I’d had any sense, I would have known how incredible you are. And how beautiful," he said.
Her silence was on the edge of alarming him, but he didn't want to spook her by jumping the gun or forcing her to answer. He'd just have to be patient and wait.
Luckily, it was only another moment before she spoke again.
"Beautiful?" It was the most feminine she'd ever sounded. More vulnerable than when she'd been talking about her life or her problems. Like it was her deepest, darkest thought and she was offering it up to him, hoping he wouldn't smash it to pieces before her eyes.
He nodded. "All I want to do is make up for lost time."
He edged toward her, trailing a finger up from her knee to the hem of her skirt. "If
you'll let me."
* * *
The bright lights nearly blinded her before, but now they didn't matter. She couldn't see them or the stars or anything else. There wasn't any sight or sound or smell.
There was only the scalding heat of Logan's fingertip as he traced her skin, and the cool shivers of anticipation that flowed through her every nerve and set her body on edge.
It seemed fast. So much faster than any other encounter she'd had before. And with their history and her brother standing in their way, there was no hope of leaving it all behind them in the morning. From this moment, whenever she looked at Logan, it would either be with the knowledge that she'd denied him or that he'd known every part of her body.
With a choice like that, though, there was no contest to be had.
This time, she wasn’t about to let her brother or anything else hold her back. She’d been stupid before, letting her own insecurities stand in the way of living out her fantasy. She wasn’t about to let that happen again.
The only thing left to do was give in.
Chapter 8
She leaned back, closing her eyes and deadening all of her senses to everything except his touch. His calloused fingertips stopped just short of the hem of her dress and she sighed, willing him further but not daring to ask for more.
"You're so beautiful," he said.
And that was the biggest turn on of all. Being beautiful had never felt important to her. She'd repeated to herself over and over that it didn't matter. That looks would fade, but the substance she had was enough. But none of that changed how wonderful it was to hear it. Like she'd been starving for it without knowing, and now her hunger had finally been satiated.
Opening her eyes, she propped herself back up and wrapped a hand behind his neck.
"You mean it?" In other circumstances, she might have been ashamed of how vulnerable the words sounded, but not now. In this moment, she only cared about the answer.
"Absolutely," he said. And then his lips were on hers, warm and soft.
Made to be His (The Archer Family #1) Page 7
