It was almost nine when she heard him drive in from the field. While he put the tractor and the mower away in the machine shed, she dished up his plate for the microwave, and then finished cleaning in the kitchen. Gram had gone to bed, and Grandpa was doing a crossword puzzle with the second season of Blue Bloods playing in the background on Netflix.
She wiped the counter for a second time while glancing out the kitchen window. Lights shining from the horse barn brought forth a frown. What was he doing out there? The horses had all been fed and settled in for the night two hours ago.
Ten minutes later, she lost her patience and poked her head around the archway to the living room. “Grandpa, I’m going to see what’s keeping Logan in the barn. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
He barely flicked her a glance over the top of his bifocals. “Yep.”
She found Logan loading up the wheelbarrow in the far stall where they stored the clean wood shavings for bedding. He glanced up when her arrival sent Whiskers’ kittens scampering for cover.
“Hey.”
Instead of returning her tentative smile, he scowled and kept working.
Nice.
“I have dinner ready for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll take it with and heat it at home.”
“You’re not coming in the house to eat?”
“Nope.”
She eased up the hem of her sweater enough to slide her hands into her front jeans pockets. Leaning her shoulder against the stall opening, she noted they were down to their last third of the previous bedding delivery. She’d have to remind Grandpa to order more. Or maybe Logan already had.
Her gaze shifted back to his lean, muscular frame. He was trying to ignore her, but she noticed an occasional sideways glance, each time directed at her feet.
“You want some help?” she asked.
“Nope.” He kept scooping and dumping, and when she still didn’t move, he asked, “What do you want?”
I want us to be friends again. I want— “I need to talk to you.”
“As you can see, I’m busy right now.”
“You’re not doing anything that can’t wait until the morning.”
“I still have chores to do at home, Joy. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.”
He made a good point—one that hurt as it poked at her hope as to why he’d gone back to being such a jerk. Maybe he wasn’t bothered by the idea she might still have feelings for her ex-fiancé. He didn’t even want to come in and eat in the house, so he certainly wasn’t hanging around on the off chance he’d see her.
Apparently, he wanted nothing to do with her outside of keeping his word and pretending to like her when he was forced to.
Tough. Joy swallowed past the lump in her throat. She was going to say her piece and he was going to listen. What happened after that was up to him.
She pushed away from the wall and strode forward, heart hammering in her chest. “Stop for a minute so we can talk.”
He didn’t answer, and he didn’t stop. The idiot was so determined to ignore her, the wheelbarrow would overflow with his next scoop. Close enough now, she grabbed hold of the pitchfork handle to yank it from his grasp. When he didn’t let go, she tried to wrestle it away.
“Are you serious right now?” he asked on a burst of surprised laughter as they grappled over the tool.
She grit her teeth. “As serious as you are stubborn, you jackass.”
While he easily retained hold of the pitchfork, she twisted around and hooked one leg behind his. Using her weight, she shoved him off balance and tripped him at the same time. He stumbled back a step before falling back into the shavings, taking her with him.
Chapter 12
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A grunt burst from Logan’s lips when Joy landed on his stomach. She took advantage of his shocked immobility to scramble her position until she straddled him, pitchfork handle leveled across his chest to keep him pinned down. He blinked up at her in disbelief.
“What the he—”
Hell was smothered by her mouth covering his.
Soft lips, hot breath, wet tongue. Still stunned, Logan let the kiss happen for a few dazed moments. Then she slid her tongue past his parted lips and demanded his participation.
His head said no. He was mad at her for using him as a stand-in for her ex in every part of her life. No—he was mad at himself for letting himself be used while stupidly hoping there might be more to her attentions.
Actually, he was pissed at the both of them, but that was neither here nor there. Kissing her, wanting her, loving her, were not smart things to do, and he knew that. Self-preservation was exactly why he’d given her the cold shoulder when avoidance was no longer an option.
Unfortunately, with her body on top of him and her mouth devouring his, his heart pounded out of control, rushing blood through his veins, overriding any possibility of obeying rational thought. The familiar reaction presented a real hazard whenever she got too close.
So what did he do? He reached up to pull her closer.
The stupid pitchfork handle got in the way and bit into his biceps. His rumble of frustration made her lips curve against his when he yanked the thing out from between them. Kissing resumed with her flush against him, her breasts crushed against his chest as he roamed his hands over her back and lower, to the curve of her denim-covered bottom.
His fingers flexed on the textured material of the pockets, and he fought not to hold tight while thrusting up against her. Shit. He’d never met a woman who turned him on as fast as Joy. It was absolutely crazy and wildly thrilling at the same time.
He skimmed one hand up her spine to bury his fingers in her silky hair as the oxygen-robbing kiss continued for God only knew how long. Long enough to make him dizzy and hard—so damn hard.
She dragged her lips from his and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her labored breath warmed his skin in frantic puffs, and the evocative, rhythmic sensation wrung a groan from deep in his chest.
“That was the complete opposite of talking,” he rasped.
“I know.” Soft lips curved against his skin as she turned to nuzzle his neck. “But I needed to get your attention.”
“Well, you damn sure got it.” He tightened his fingers, holding her in place over his erection. “A little more than you bargained for, maybe.”
Her breathy little laugh sizzled through him. He turned his head, searching for her mouth while using his grip at the back of her neck to guide her lips back to his.
“Uh-uh.” She pushed up with the protest, bracing her hands on his chest until she sat up. His hands slid to rest on her thighs as she gazed down at him from astride his hips. “Talk, remember?”
“You started it. It’s only fair I get to finish it.” Molten desire erupted at the thought of driving deep into her moist heat. God, please let me be able to finish it.
“Logan, this is important. At least, I think it is.”
He let loose a sigh and released her, pulling his arms back with a surrendering hands off gesture before resting them in the shavings. “Okay, fine. Go ahead.”
Joy glanced down between their bodies. “Um, this might be a little awkward for the conversation I’d intended.”
“Then get off me.” The second she shifted to swing her leg over and off, Logan changed his mind and seized her waist to hold her in place. “No, don’t.”
“You sure?”
“Hell yes. Stay right there.” The pressure of her weight combined pleasure and pain, but he wasn’t giving up the position for anything. It took effort to shift his gaze from the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath the snug fit of her butter-soft, cream sweater, to her face. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”
She hesitated one last moment, then looked him in the eye with his erection pulsing hard between them. “I do not love Luke anymore. Not even a little bit, and not for quite some time now.”
The sonofabitch’s name was the last thing he’d expected to come ou
t of her mouth after that searing kiss. Just hearing the guy’s name raised his hackles and doused ice water over his desire. It reminded him exactly why he was where he was at that precise moment, and who he was compared to the other man.
Anger swirled with resentment as Logan shifted, suddenly desperate to get out from under her. Joy caught him off guard again by grabbing his wrists and leaning her weight forward to pin his arms above his head.
He had the superior strength to buck her off, but her face hovered only inches from his, her hazel eyes skewed mostly brown as her gaze bored into his. Her hundred twenty pounds might as well have been a two ton weight on his chest.
His heart pounded hard at the intensity in her eyes.
“Do you ever wish this wasn’t pretend?” Her voice was soft and husky and so full of longing his heart surged against his ribs. “Not the engagement part, but the rest of it?”
“Don’t ask questions like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t like my answer.”
“Says who?”
All of a sudden, what she’d said before registered in his head. She didn’t love that bastard anymore. In fact, she’d insisted on making sure he knew she had no residual feelings for her ex by tackling him and kissing him crazy.
Holy shit. Did he actually have a chance in this game?
Hope buoyed despite his earlier attempts to remain guarded. She wanted him for him, not for the stand-in he’d assumed he’d become.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and she responded by leaning down to kiss him again.
This one was slow, sweet, and all about exploration. At some point, she released his hands, and he skimmed them down her back to burrow under her sweater. He caressed the supple skin at her waist before moving up over her ribs, to the curve of her full breasts. When she made no move to stop him, he pulled the cups of her bra down to roll her hardening nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
Her sharp inhale was followed by a nip to his bottom lip.
“Ow,” he muttered.
“Sorry.” She released him, then gently sucked to soothe where she’d bit.
He lightly pinched her now rigid nipples, and she gasped again. Logan lifted with the heels of his hands, urging her to lean over him, his mouth watering at the thought of doing some sucking of his own.
She rocked forward, braced on her hands and knees as he dragged her sweater up to expose her breasts.
“Joy? Logan? Everything okay in here?”
Al’s voice from the main barn entrance made them both freeze for a heart-stopping second. Logan jerked his hands away from her bra, and Joy jumped off him.
“Oh, my God, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered, hastily adjusting her clothes.
As Logan surged to his feet and started brushing shavings from his clothes, the scuff of Al’s footsteps sounded ever closer on the concrete aisle.
“Joy?”
“In by the shavings, Grandpa.” Bra and sweater straightened, she raked her fingers through her hair, scattering the thin slivers of wood clinging to the ends of her curls. “I was just helping Logan finish up some chores.”
The footsteps halted abruptly, and Logan stilled just as quick. He and Joy both stared at the open, empty doorway. A few shavings floated to the ground in lazy spirals as the telling silence grew uncomfortable.
“As long as everything is all right,” her grandpa finally said.
Logan winced, but didn’t speak.
“It is,” she assured him.
Another pregnant pause. “I’m going to bed then. Goodnight.”
“Night, Grandpa.”
“See you in the morning, Logan.”
“Yes, sir.” And that won’t be awkward at all.
He listened as Al’s footsteps retreated, until each step was an ever more faint crunch on the gravel in the quiet.
Once they’d faded completely away, Joy turned wide, horrified eyes to Logan. “He knows.”
“Ya think?”
She snorted at his sarcastic response, then clapped a hand over her mouth. When he realized her shoulders trembled from laughter, his tension eased. For a second there, he thought she was upset because she didn’t want her grandfather to know their relationship had progressed past them playing along for June. At least he was pretty sure it had.
Joy’s uncontrollable mirth released his grin as well.
“Oh my God, how old are we?” She collapsed back against the inside front wall of the stall and leaned her head against the iron bars. “I feel like I’m sixteen again, getting caught with a boy in the barn.”
“You’ve done this before?” he asked with mock indignation.
“Oh, don’t even try to tell me you haven’t.”
He gave a wry chuckle, because he couldn’t deny a roll or two in the hay over the years.
“That’s what I thought.”
Her smile sobered as silence fell between them. Logan took in her tousled hair with little pieces of wood still clinging to the ends where they’d dragged in the shavings as she bent over him. A vivid fantasy flashed of her naked on top of him, with that red hair tumbling over her shoulders to brush the rosy tips of her breasts. The visualization sent a surge of heat straight below the waistband of his jeans to reactivate his desire.
It took everything he had not to go pull her back into his arms. “Now what?”
She cut her gaze up to his, her eyes the prettiest shade of mossy green he’d ever seen. “Well, we’re not going back to what we were doing.”
“I kinda figured that.” Damn it. He drew in a discreet breath for the next part. “I was speaking more about the bigger picture. To pretend, or not pretend?”
She straightened away from the wall, but like him, kept her distance. Whereas before she’d been like a badger in her determination to make him listen, now she seemed hesitant. As if she was second guessing her actions after her grandfather’s interruption.
“I don’t know. Do you want to?”
He’d asked an or question, not yes or no. All she had to do was pick one. “Do I want to what?”
“Stop pretending.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. “You never really answered before.”
He couldn’t help a snort of disbelief as he pointed with both hands toward the front of his still-tight jeans. “Um…pretty sure I did.”
Color flooded her face, but she shook her head. “That means nothing. Guys are up for sex no matter what the situation.”
Indignation exploded at the sexist statement. “Whoa. Uh-uh. Not all of us are like your ex.”
“In my experience, more of you are than not.”
He narrowed his gaze at her defensive retort as his chest tightened. “And you haven’t realized by now that I’m not?”
Guilt filled her expression. “I do know you’re not. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you should be.” He closed the distance between them and grasped her shoulders. “Why’d you come out here tonight?”
“To talk.”
“But why was it so important that I know you no longer have feelings for that idiot you left back in Nashville?”
Her gaze fixed on his chest. He could see her wrestling with the answer and waited patiently.
“You closed off ever since you asked the question last night,” she said. “When you told Carrie you were just a stand-in, I needed you to know that’s not even close to being true. The stuff with Gram is one thing because of her dementia, but when it comes to you and me, I know exactly who you are, and Luke wouldn’t have a chance in hell of holding a candle to you.”
Man, he’d needed to hear that. “Thanks.”
He pulled her close and wrapped her in a gentle hug. She slid her arms around his waist, and the companionable silence that followed was so different than when her grandpa had been in the barn. Logan enjoyed the warmth of her body pressed to his. They fit well together with her head tucked under his chin. He had no doubt they’d fit in other ways, too.
“Then it’s official,” she murmured. “No more pretending.”
“You know, you’ve said all along we could pretend with everyone else, but not each other. Things shouldn’t be all that different.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she agreed. “Though, with everything going on with Gram, I think we should start slow, take each day as it comes, and keep this just between us.”
Sounded good, until the last bit registered. “Just between us?”
“Yes.”
Wait…so it was fine for friends to know about their fake relationship, but when things took a turn in the other direction, she wanted to keep it secret?
He stiffened, and she leaned back in his arms to look up at him. “If everyone knew, they’d be watching every move we make.”
“They watch every move we make now. What would be the difference?”
“Oh, come on. The knowing grins. The wink-wink comments.” She shook her head. “Trust me, it’s better for them to think we’re still acting.”
Logan gave a combination shrug and nod. She had a point, but still…good reason or not, he couldn’t help thinking there was more to her wanting to keep things quiet than she would say.
Warm, soft hands on both sides of his face directed his gaze down to hers. “Don’t go reading anything into this, okay? I just think it’ll be easier this way.”
It wasn’t that he wanted to run out and shout the news from the rooftops. He was good with taking it slow, because it gave him time to work on farm issues. More than ever he needed to pull a Hail Mary out of somewhere. But despite that, the secret part gave life to a little niggle of doubt deep inside his chest.
Her hazel gaze held his as she waited for his answer. He set aside his reservations and focused on the here and now, and the beautiful woman in his arms.
“Okay.”
“Good.” Her lips curved into a smile as she pulled him down for a quick kiss. He followed when she started to pull away, sliding his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened to his deep exploration. He could so easily become addicted to kissing her—likely already was.
Say You'll Marry Me (Welcome to Redemption #10) Page 11
