Blame It on the Cowboy

by Delores Fossen

  Since the woman had just consumed several pounds of junk food, Reese wasn’t sure where she’d put dinner, but she wished Jimena a good night, grabbed her purse and the pie that she’d baked and headed out. It was already dark, but as Reese always did, she stuck to the back street. Old habits. In her youthful con days, it was a way of keeping out of sight, of making herself as invisible as possible.

  Tonight, it was so no one would see her going to Logan’s.

  Of course, the gossips assumed Logan and she were already carrying on a hot affair, but Reese was still mindful of Logan’s reputation. Spring Hill wasn’t exactly a prudish place, but she was certain the members of the old guard—i.e., those who wanted Logan back with Helene—wouldn’t care much for her spending time beneath the sheets with their golden boy.

  She spotted Logan’s truck as soon as the parking lot came into view, and Reese released the breath she’d been holding. Part of her had worried that he would come to his senses and cancel. Or forget.

  Reese went to the back door and was about to test the knob when she glanced in Logan’s truck and saw someone. Since the windshield was heavily tinted, she couldn’t be sure, but her first thought was that someone had broken into it. She was about to call out for Logan when she realized the person inside was Logan.

  And something was wrong.

  He wasn’t just sitting. He had slumped forward, his forehead leaning against the steering wheel.

  Reese’s heart jumped to her throat because he didn’t look as if he were merely in deep thought. He wasn’t. The moment she tapped on the window and he lifted his head, she saw the pain etched all over his face. She threw open the door, and he practically tumbled into her arms.

  “Migraine,” he managed to say.

  She would have been relieved that it wasn’t something more serious, but she knew about migraines and how bad they could be. Her grandfather had suffered from them.

  “Let me get you inside,” she said, trying to keep her voice at a whisper. Logan winced and grunted in pain with each little movement of his head.

  She got him to the back door. It was locked. Damn. That meant she had to lean him against the building and go back for his keys. They were still in the ignition. Then she had to figure out which one, all while Logan stood there suffering.

  It seemed to take an eternity, and her hands were shaking now, but Reese finally got him into the building. No sign of Greg. Too bad. Because the assistant could have helped with getting Logan upstairs.

  “I can walk on my own,” Logan said. Each word seemed an effort. “It’s okay. You can go now.”

  Not a chance. Reese didn’t argue with him about it, either. She merely hooked her arm around his waist and got him moving. Step by step. There were suddenly a gazillion of them, and both Logan and she had broken out in a sweat by the time she reached his loft.

  The brown sofa was gone so she led him to the bed. He eased down onto the mattress and pulled a pillow over his head.

  “Meds,” he mumbled.

  Reese hurried to the bathroom, threw open the medicine cabinet and spotted the prescription bottle of pain pills. Plus, some lavender oil. She grabbed both and a glass of water.

  “Don’t tell anyone about this,” Logan said when she gave him the pills.

  “I won’t. I’ll tell them we had sex instead.”

  He managed a smile. A very short-lived one that told her how much pain he was in. She put some of the lavender oil on her fingertips and began to massage his forehead, temples and the back of his neck.

  “You’ve done this before,” he whispered.

  “Yes, for my grandfather. Peppermint oil helps sometimes, too.” Though she also knew that sometimes nothing at all helped. Still, the pain didn’t seem to be getting worse.

  “The grandfather who gave you the watch?”

  She nodded. “I lived with him on and off.”

  “Keep talking,” Logan said.

  Reese did. She kept massaging his head, too. “He was the night manager of a pizza place so we ate lots and lots of pizza—especially the ones they couldn’t sell or the ones customers didn’t pick up. I think it set me on my course of the love of junk food.”

  “Were your parents there, too?”

  “On and off,” she repeated. “When I was about ten, I think they got fed up and left me with him for good.” Or so she’d thought at the time. “Then he got sick and died two years later.”

  Even though she knew it had to be painful for him, Logan opened his eyes, met her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  Yes, so was she. Losing him had crushed her heart. Still did.

  “For a long time I blamed myself for his death,” Reese said before she even knew she was going to say it. And she was instantly sorry. Logan looked at her as if waiting for more.

  Reese wasn’t even sure she’d ever said this aloud, but she had certainly thought it plenty of times. “When I was living with him, my grandfather started working extra hours to pay for my school things and clothes. I think that’s why he didn’t go to the doctor right away when he started having symptoms.”

  Maybe with all the pain, Logan wouldn’t even remember her telling him this. It was bad enough that he thought she was beneath him, but now he would know that she had the dreaded emotional baggage. Just what no man wanted to hear.

  “Keep talking,” he repeated.

  She had to pause and take a deep breath. Had to pause again to think about how to say what she wanted to say. Best just to get it out there, and hope that Logan didn’t remember.

  “He died of lung cancer. I watched him waste away, and that’s one of the reasons my misdiagnosis scared me. I didn’t want to die that way. Now, see? Aren’t you sorry you asked? You should have asked me for recipes or something that didn’t involve picking at these old scabs.”

  “We all have scabs.” Logan stayed quiet for several long moments. “I should have been able to save my parents, but I didn’t.”

  Judging from the way he suddenly got so stiff, she was guessing that wasn’t something he’d expected to share. However, it was something she’d already heard about.

  Gossip, again.

  But in this case the gossip seemed to be reliable since it had come from Bert. Logan’s parents had died in a head-on collision when he’d been nineteen, and Logan had been the first to arrive shortly after the crash.

  “They died at the scene,” Reese reminded him, though she was certain he needed no such reminder. “I don’t think anyone could have saved them.”

  He didn’t agree. Logan only closed his eyes, and he didn’t open them until she stopped massaging his temples. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to stay.”

  She could see him already shutting down, already regretting that he’d let her have a little glimpse of what was in his head. “It’s okay. I don’t have anything else to do.” Reese wiped her hands, took off his boots and pulled the covers over him.

  “You’re being nice to me because I’m in pain. I don’t like that.”

  “Would you rather I yell at you?” she joked.

  “Only if you whisper when you do it.” His voice was groggy now, which meant the pain meds were knocking him out. Maybe they would knock out the pain, too. “Will you ever tell me about Spenser O’Malley?”

  Obviously, though, the pain meds weren’t erasing the things on his mind. “One day.” Maybe. Probably not, though.

  That wasn’t just baggage but rather a mountain of it.

  “Is he the reason you’re scared of getting involved with me?” he asked.

  Definitely not an easy question, and Reese only answered him because she was certain Logan wouldn’t remember any of this. “No. I’m scared for other reasons.”

  She was scared he’d break her heart. And he would. Reese didn’t have any doubts about that.
/>   * * *

  THE SMELL OF coffee woke Logan. Not easily, though. Despite the enticing scent, he practically had to pry open his eyelids. That was thanks to the effects of the pain meds. They’d knocked him out cold, had gotten him through the migraine, but he would pay for the relief for the rest of the day.

  It felt as if a bug bomb had gone off in his head.

  He finally got his eyes open and came fully awake when he saw how close the coffee cup was to his face. How close Reese was, too. She was standing right over him. A surprise. He’d thought for certain she would leave after he fell asleep. Just because they’d had a one-night stand didn’t mean she was obligated to play nursemaid.

  Hell. He hoped he hadn’t said anything stupid to her, but he did remember a garbled conversation about his parents. Some things she’d told him about her grandfather, too.

  Had she mentioned that guy Spenser?

  If she had, Logan hoped he remembered what she’d said. From what he could sense, the man from her past was an emotional land mine that he should probably avoid.

  “I was going to let you sleep,” Reese said. “But Greg slipped a note under your door to remind you about an important meeting you have this morning. The meeting’s in thirty minutes, and I didn’t think you’d want to miss it.”

  “I don’t,” he assured her.

  Logan groaned. It was a meeting he had to take, too, because he’d already rescheduled it twice. A third cancellation could create some ill feelings between him and a seller he needed.

  Since Greg usually texted that sort of reminder, it probably meant his assistant realized Logan wasn’t alone. Or maybe someone had seen Reese helping him into the building the night before and spread the word. Logan had never told Greg that he had migraines, but the man had no doubt figured it out.

  Logan forced himself to a sitting position, took the coffee and gulped as much as he could without burning his mouth. He prayed the caffeine would kick in soon and maybe rid him of the rest of the pain. It wasn’t bad now. Just little pinging reminders that he didn’t need. Especially because Greg had been right—this meeting was important.

  “I didn’t open the blinds,” Reese said. “It’s pretty sunny out there already.”

  “Thanks.” The blinds would stay closed. Ditto for the lights being off. He’d have to ease into the whole light thing unless he wanted the headache to return.

  “If you want to grab a shower, I can fix you some breakfast,” Reese offered.

  She was still being nice to him, and he would have told her to knock it off, but breakfast did sound good. He wasn’t even sure the last time he’d eaten, but his stomach was growling.

  “Don’t you have the breakfast shift at the café?” he asked.

  “Not this morning. I can stay a little while longer. If you want, that is.”

  He did want that. More than he should. And it wasn’t all food related, either. Despite what had been a lousy night for both of them, Reese somehow managed to look amazing. Jason had said she was attractive in an unmade-bed sort of way, and while Logan didn’t agree with that, looking at her did remind him of bed.

  And sex.

  Especially sex.

  It was her mouth, he decided. Full and kissable. The rest of her body, though, was kissable, too. So that’s what he did. Nothing long and deep. Just a taste of her mouth that he’d hoped would tamp down this little fire that was starting to simmer in his body. It didn’t. The one kiss only made him want more.

  More of something he really didn’t have time for.

  “Sorry about all of this,” Logan said, moving away from her and getting up. “Both the half-assed kiss and the half-assed night. Last night qualifies as the worst dinner date ever.”

  Reese smiled. “Sadly, I’ve had worse.”

  She was probably being nice again, and because the niceness was making him want to pull her back to him, Logan headed to the bathroom for that shower. He didn’t take long, mainly because his head was still sensitive, and it actually hurt to have the water hit his scalp. Also because he wanted a chance to say goodbye to Reese before he ate and headed downstairs for the meeting.

  His dressing room was off the bathroom, which was a plus. Best not to run around half-naked with Reese still in his house. Well, best not to do that when he had someplace else to be.

  Logan finished dressing and hurried back out to find breakfast sitting on the table. Scrambled eggs, and a glass of OJ next to the plate.

  But no Reese.

  “Reese had to leave,” someone said. “She said something about having to go to work.”

  Maybe it was the fog in his head, but it actually took Logan a moment to recognize the voice. Another moment to pick through the dimly lit room and see the woman standing by the door.

  Helene.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SHIT. AND BECAUSE Reese didn’t know what else to say, she repeated that a couple more times as she hurried out of the McCord building.

  Helene was back.

  And Reese didn’t know who’d been more surprised about that—Helene or her—when Reese had opened the loft doors. Reese had expected Greg to be standing there when she heard someone knock, and her stomach had landed near her ankles after she saw Logan’s visitor.

  His perfect visitor.

  Reese had heard that Helene was beautiful, and it hadn’t been an exaggeration. The woman looked like a pageant contestant, moved like a ballerina and smiled like the Mona Lisa.

  Reese hated her.

  But even more than that, Reese hated that she hated her.

  She had always known Helene could come back. After all, the woman owned several businesses in town, but Reese hadn’t thought her homecoming would have happened with Reese looking and feeling like a piece of gutter trash.

  It hadn’t helped, either, that Helene had turned that Mona Lisa smile on Reese. If Helene had been angry about finding another woman in her ex’s loft, she had shown no traces of it. Helene had merely introduced herself and politely asked to see Logan.

  Reese had exchanged introductions, shaken Helene’s hand and then had somehow managed to rattle off an excuse of needing to get to work. Part of her, the part with a spine, wanted to hold her ground and stay until she could at least say goodbye to Logan. Maybe even kiss him in front of Helene. But Reese had been afraid that any kisses he might have given would have landed on Helene’s mouth, not hers.

  “Reese?” someone called out.

  Lucky.

  Definitely someone she didn’t want to see right now. Of course, she could say that about anyone. The tears were threatening, and if Reese did disgrace herself by crying, she didn’t want a witness. But this was one witness she couldn’t avoid because Lucky was running to catch up with her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. The question alone meant he no doubt knew about Helene’s return, but the look in his eyes let her know that he was also aware that Helene was with Logan right now.

  “I’m fine.” The lie just sort of stuck in her throat. “You knew she was back?”

  “I just found out. Greg told me when I came in for the meeting, and he said you’d left in a hurry.”

  Reese shrugged. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Better yet, she told her heart to knock it off. That crushing feeling in her chest was making it hard to breathe.

  “I knew she was coming home, though,” Lucky continued a moment later. “Her mother, Mary, called me last night to give me a heads-up. She said she tried to call Logan, but he didn’t answer.”

  “Logan wasn’t feeling well,” she settled for saying.

  “Migraine?”

  Since Logan had told her not to tell anyone, Reese only shrugged. “For the record, nothing happened between Logan and me last night.”

&
nbsp; Lucky shrugged, too. Probably because he didn’t believe her, and then he huffed. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this, but I think you should know. Helene is planning to stay. Really stay,” he added. “Her mother said Helene is organizing several big charity events and that she’s going to donate money to build an addition onto the civic center.”

  “She’s trying to mend her reputation,” Reese concluded.

  “You bet she is. But Helene’s good at this sort of thing, and if anyone can make this shit stink less, it’s Helene.”

  Reese didn’t doubt that for a minute. Nor did she doubt something else. “Helene is planning to reconcile with Logan, too.”

  “She’ll try.” Lucky pinched his eyes together a moment. “And she might succeed. That’ll suck for Logan.”

  It took some more blinking to stave off those tears. Reese gave up on coaxing her heart out of the crushing feeling and just went with it. After all, she’d known it was coming.

  “Helene’s perfect,” she said. “I mean, I kept hearing people say that, but I didn’t know they actually meant it.”

  “She’s not perfect,” Lucky argued.

  “She certainly looks it. Please tell me she had a boob job because, in all the gossip, no one mentioned those huge breasts of hers.” The porcelain bookends hadn’t been to scale at all.

  “Funny, it’s what most people mention about her first. Guys, anyway,” he added in a mumble. “Still, big boobs don’t equal perfect.”

  “She’s beautiful, and that outfit she was wearing probably cost more than I’ve made in a lifetime. Plus, she used a word I didn’t even understand. I’ll have to look it up to see if she insulted me or not.”

  “It wouldn’t have been an obvious insult. Helene doesn’t work that way. She’s more the ‘silently put a curse on you while conniving to make your life miserable’ type.”

  Reese stared at him. “Did you start to feel that way about her before or after you saw her with the clown?”

  “Before.” He held up his hands in defense. “But hey, I kept my mouth shut because I thought she was what Logan wanted. God knows Logan never approved of any woman I dated before Cassie.”