Cricket Cove

by Haddix, T. L.

  “On the bed, facedown, please.” Once he had taken his glasses off and had lain down, she grabbed a bottle of lotion and climbed onto the bed. Lifting her skirt, she straddled his legs below his hips. “We’ll start with your shoulders and work our way down. How does that sound?”

  “Can we start with my front first?”

  Amelia laughed. “No. If you behave, maybe we’ll finish with your front.”

  For the next few minutes, there was little conversation as she slowly worked on the tense muscles across his shoulders and down his spine. When she approached his lower back, Logan let out a sigh.

  “I didn’t realize I was so tense,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

  She leaned down and placed a kiss on his shoulder. “My pleasure.” She kept rubbing, moving all the way down his legs to his feet. When she touched his toes and he jerked, she froze.

  “Are you ticklish, Logan Gibson?”

  “No. Not at all,” he answered a bit too quickly. He rolled over onto his right side, tucking his feet together under a pillow.

  Amelia sent him a wicked grin. “I’ll have to file that away for later use.” When she started back up his legs, he rolled onto his back fully and reached for her. He tugged until she was resting on top of him. His hands slipped under her blouse to rub at the muscles of her back.

  “I’ll bet I’m not the only one who could use a rubdown. Why don’t you strip down and I’ll return the favor?” He hit a sore spot, making her wince, and gentled his touch.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” she admitted.

  This time it was Logan’s turn to help her undress. He teased her a bit, but for the most part, kept the mood light. When she stretched out where he’d been, her head facing the fireplace, she sighed.

  “Tell me if I’m using too much pressure,” he said softly as he warmed lotion between his hands.

  Amelia groaned when he touched her shoulders. “No such thing.”

  By the time he reached her feet, she was simultaneously relaxed and aroused. She rolled over to watch as he propped himself up against the pillows, then took her right foot in his hands. The bedroom was warm, thanks to the fire, and even though they were both naked, they weren’t cold.

  When he started working the soreness out of her heel, she reached over to leisurely trace her fingers up and down his leg. “This is nice.”

  He stilled, looking up at her with the same hard-to-describe expression from earlier. “Yeah, it is.” He put her foot down and crawled over her, settling half on top of her. He propped himself up on his left arm and, lifting her leg, drew it over his hip. He then ran his hand up her back and into her hair.

  “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted. “Just enjoyed spending time with someone I was involved with. As bad as it sounds, it was always about the ultimate goal. Get in, get out, so to speak.”

  Amelia traced the line of his collarbone. “I did notice the last time you were here just how easily you seemed to slip out of the house.”

  He winced. “You were awake?”

  She nodded. “As soon as you got out of bed.”

  “Damn.”

  “How does that usually work for you, in the long run, I mean?” she teased. “I can’t imagine it’s set you up for a follow-up date.”

  Logan actually blushed. “Not often, no.” He sighed and rested his head against hers. “I don’t want you to think I’ve been some kind of… of male slut or something. There haven’t been that many women.”

  Amelia studied him. He was truly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure I want to know, but I’ll ask. How many?”

  “Seven.”

  She was right—she didn’t want to know. “Does that include me?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  He pushed her hair back off her face and her shoulder, then ran his hand down her arm. “I can’t go back and undo it. I… I wish I could. If I had known I would meet you, I would have tried not to be so casual.”

  Amelia read a lot, pretty much whatever she could get her hands on. And she knew seven wasn’t a tremendous number, not in this day and age. What she was having trouble with was believing that Logan hadn’t felt anything more than lust for the women.

  “And you never got involved with any of them?”

  He shook his head. “Not like I am with you. I mean, for the most part they weren’t one-night stands. And one or two… we dated for a couple of months.”

  “When you say dated, do you mean went out to eat and to the movies, or do you mean sex?” she asked.

  “Oh, God.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Mostly sex. I can just about count the number of times I spent the night on one hand. What we have here, it doesn’t come close to being the same thing that happened with them. It was fun, it felt good, it was stress relief, but the emotions… they weren’t there. There was no laughter or connection here,” he said, touching her chest. “And I didn’t trust them with myself. Please tell me you believe that.”

  Amelia rose up and touched his cheek. She stared into his eyes, trying to figure out if she should listen to her gut or not. She let out a long breath. “I think I do,” she told him softly.

  Logan kissed her. He didn’t try to seduce her, but the kiss was full of pent-up emotion that reached out and grabbed her tight. She pushed against his chest and he backed off. She kept pushing until he was lying on his back, and then she swung her leg across his hips until she was straddling his erection.

  “Amelia…”

  She raised her hips up and took him inside her slowly. Throwing her head back, she closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of him. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her firm against him. When the first rush of pleasure died down, she looked at him. “I love this. Having you here.”

  Logan sat up, cradling her to his chest as she rocked her hips. “I love being here.”

  They’d only ever made love like this once, with a slow, unhurried pace until the very end, when they both grew frantic. When she climaxed, she barely managed to hold back from telling him how much she loved him.

  She couldn’t stop touching him, though, and Logan seemed to feel the same. They didn’t separate for a long time, and when they did, they quickly took care of the mess they’d made, then crawled under the covers to hold each other.

  Much like their letters tended to, their conversation wandered from topic to topic, touching here and there on a host of subjects until Amelia was so sleepy she couldn’t hold her eyes open.

  The last thing she felt as she drifted off was the press of Logan’s lips against her temple and the slide of his fingers as they laced into hers.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Logan woke up just before six the next morning, and he reached over to the alarm clock, turning it off before it could go off. He rolled back over and pulled Amelia into his arms. He didn’t want to get up and get out of bed, but he had to.

  He’d never been a cuddler, but something about her made him want to linger, to savor every moment he could. When he started feeling himself get sleepy again, he forced himself to get up. He sat on the side of the bed and got into his pants, then pulled his T-shirt over his head.

  Amelia’s soft sigh warned him an instant before her hand touched his back. “Are you leaving?”

  “No. I just have to go out and get my bag.” He tangled his hand with hers, placing a kiss on the back. “You stay here and keep warm. I won’t leave without saying good-bye.”

  “Okay.”

  She was still curled up under the covers when he was ready to go. Logan hated to disturb her, but the last thing he wanted was for her to think he was slinking out in shame.

  “Hey, are you awake?” he asked as he pulled the covers back to expose her face.

  “Mmm-hmmm.” But her eyes were closed as she
stretched and smiled up at him sleepily.

  Logan lay down beside her, wrapping his arms around her cocooned body. “Are you sure?” he teased.

  The response was the same, and he laughed softly as he hugged her. “Look at me, sunshine. Let me see those blue eyes so I know you know I’m going.”

  Her eyes opened, and she lifted up just far enough to place a kiss under his jaw. “I’m awake. Are you leaving now?”

  “Yeah. Will I see you this evening?”

  “Mmmm. Do you want to?” she asked around a yawn, which she turned into the pillow.

  “Guess.”

  Her smile was pleased. “When and where? I’ll probably try to resume my library duties this evening, so it would need to be after that.”

  “How about I pick you up there and we figure it out?”

  “Sounds good.”

  He gave her another squeeze. “I’ll see you then.”

  All day, his mind kept drifting back to how right it had felt to wake up with her. When he got back to his apartment after work and started doing laundry, he was amazed and disturbed by how empty the place was. The utilitarian feel of the apartment had never bothered him before. It was a place to lay his head at night, a roof and walls that kept him warm and dry.

  He glanced at the clock. It was barely five, and he had a couple of hours at least before he had to pick Amelia up. That said, he did have some papers to grade, and he could do that just as well at the library as he could here at home. He threw his clean laundry in the dryer to turn on later, grabbed his briefcase, and left.

  When he got to the library, he headed for a quiet spot in the back where he knew a pair of comfortable chairs were arranged next to a small table. He stopped in his tracks, though, as he saw that one of the chairs had an occupant.

  Logan cursed under his breath. Of course he would be here.

  Owen looked up and saw him, and a tiny spark of amusement lit the other man’s face. “Fancy meeting you here. Pull up a chair.”

  Seeing no other option if he didn’t want to look like a ninny, Logan did. “Sir. I thought I’d work on grading papers while I waited.”

  “I’m not stopping you. Though I am surprised. I thought you were teaching those kids how to do everything on computers now.”

  “Not everything, and just the advanced class for now. We start with the rest of the kids next fall. There’s still quite a bit of board drafting going on.” He pulled out the stack of papers and settled into the chair, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t hammering. As much as he told himself he was being an idiot, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was sitting next to the father of the woman whose bed he’d shared the previous two nights. The baby daughter on whom he’d put bruises with his fervor.

  After about five minutes, Owen put the newspaper down and picked up a magazine that had been lying on the table. “Is it that complicated?”

  Logan flinched. “Sir?”

  “The work you’re grading. Is it so complex that you have to stare at it like that?”

  Logan felt like a kid who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “No. I was just… thinking.”

  Owen coughed. “I see.”

  He’d made it to the third page of the first paper after another five minutes, and when Owen stretched in the chair beside him, Logan gritted his teeth, cursing himself silently.

  “Conscience getting to you?”

  Logan closed his eyes. “Yes.” He was afraid to look across the table.

  When Owen chuckled, however, he couldn’t resist a peek. Amelia’s father was grinning. “Now, what in the world would you have to feel guilty about, Logan?”

  Giving up on any pretense of grading the papers, Logan sighed and slipped them back into his briefcase. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “You know what I’m feeling guilty about.”

  It was Owen’s turn to sigh. “Yeah, I do. And God help me, I never thought I’d say this, but you need to stop. Do you know what Amelia did when I showed up this evening to catch a ride down here?”

  Logan shook his head mutely.

  “She dragged me inside and made me look at her flowers. You would think the damned things were made of gold or something.”

  “Oh.” That wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

  Owen studied him. “Listen, Sarah and I are pretty certain that we raised five intelligent, well-rounded, responsible children. They haven’t always shown the best judgment in matters of a personal nature, but for the most part, they’re pretty smart cookies. Amelia especially has protected herself. If she’s willing to let you in to the degree she obviously has, then I have to believe she knows what she’s doing.”

  “I don’t,” he said quietly. “Know what I’m doing, that is. I’ve never… she’s different.”

  “She is. She’s special. Even amongst a group of pretty extraordinary kids, she stands out. And the amazing thing is that none of her siblings resent her for that. Now, Amelia would tell you that she doesn’t stand out at all,” Owen said, crossing an ankle over his knee. “She didn’t get a college degree, she doesn’t have a ‘steady’ job aside from the articles and columns she writes, and in her mind, she still hasn’t proven herself. But if you ask all my other children, they’ll tell you that she’s helped them each regain a part of themselves at one point in time or another.”

  Logan smiled. “She’s good at that. Maybe part of her Cupid abilities?”

  “Maybe. And maybe it’s just who she is. Regardless, it’s made her siblings very protective of her. You may have noticed that from the other day.” His tone was dry, but his eyes sparkled as he watched Logan.

  “It was something I picked up on, yes. And Zanny reinforced that defensiveness last night. She helped me with the flowers,” he confessed. “I know I’m not the best man for Amelia. I just can’t stay away from her.”

  Something moved over Owen’s face, an emotion Logan would almost describe as wistful. “On paper? No, you don’t look like a good match. But I know what looks bad on paper, or what looks good, doesn’t always work the same way in the real world.”

  Logan noticed that he was twirling his wedding band around and around. “You and Sarah?”

  Owen nodded. “Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. And soldiers aren’t the only ones with scars, Logan. I think I understand some of your hesitancy. Sometimes when you get hurt very badly, by people who are supposed to protect you, reaching out again to open yourself up to that kind of hurt can be impossible. You just have to decide if the rewards are worth the risk.” He stood and stretched. “How about we stow your bag in Sarah’s office and get some air? The weather’s still nice enough that we should enjoy it while we can. I can’t remember a January being this warm, despite that snow we had.”

  “Air sounds good.”

  As they walked, they discussed Owen’s upcoming book. Although he conversed with the man well enough, Logan’s mind kept circling back to what he’d said. Was the reward worth the risk? Unerringly, he kept answering the question the same way—with a resounding yes.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Logan and Amelia spent every night the rest of the week at either her trailer or his apartment. They were intimate, yes, but more than that, they grew closer emotionally. They talked about anything and everything, and Amelia had never been happier.

  When Archer called Thursday evening to invite them over Friday for game night, they gladly accepted.

  “Think it means they’re coming around?” she asked. They were stretched out on the couch relaxing.

  “I don’t know. He said your folks would have the kids. It could be an intervention.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Pessimist.”

  “Of course.”

  The next evening found her putting together a box of food to take.
They’d not had family game night in a while, and she was looking forward to it. She was also eager to show her siblings her relationship with Logan. She planned to show up earlier than Archer had specified, just in case she needed to put out some fires.

  She was so caught up in thinking about that she didn’t notice the dark truck parked at the foot of her driveway. She’d just cleared the last step of the front porch when Roger spoke.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Her heart stopped in her chest, fluttering, then resettled into a terrified pace. “What do you want?”

  He pushed off from the bumper of her car, swinging the aluminum baseball bat he’d had propped on his shoulder in a smooth arc. The swing was lazy, casual, and deceptive. “I’ve come to see you. After all, you are the one who ruined my marriage. Tell me, did you know Lori was fucking another man?” And with that, he swung the bat, taking out her rear passenger window.

  Amelia couldn’t prevent a cry from escaping. Moving so slowly she felt as though she were swimming through molasses, she reached into the box and fumbled for the compartment on her purse where her gun was held. When she closed her hand around the grip, she almost wept with relief.

  “You should go,” she told him. “Turn around now and just go.”

  He swung again. This time, the passenger window itself was a casualty. “I can’t do that. Not until you’ve learned your lesson. When I get done with you, you’ll never interfere with anyone else’s life.” Another swing took the side mirror off, sending it flying across the car and into the grass on the embankment above the road.

  “Where’s Lori? What did you do to her?”

  “I don’t know where she is,” he yelled, spittle flying as his face turned red with rage. “The dumb bitch is gone. Gone! She’s my wife, goddamn you.”