Logan continued listening on the way up the stairs, turning on lights as they climbed, and by the time they made it to the loft, Reese didn’t have to ask if it was bad news because she could tell from his face that it was. Logan confirmed that by not saying anything until they were inside.
“You’re sure you want to do that?” Logan asked the man, but she couldn’t hear Chucky’s response.
Several seconds later, Logan hit the end-call button, put his phone back in his pocket. He also poured them drinks and had a long sip before he continued.
“Chucky says if Helene files charges against him that he’ll copy old newspaper articles about Spenser O’Malley and plaster them all over town.”
Her breath vanished again, but this time it wasn’t from one of Logan’s kisses. Chucky really knew which wounds to go after so he could hurt her the most. And what with her mother trying to ruin Logan, it pretty much killed what little festive mood she had left from the wedding.
“Spenser.” Reese sank down onto the nearest chair. She really didn’t want all of that brought out in the open again. Especially since it would be gossiped about.
“I think Helene was having second thoughts about those charges, anyway,” Logan commented. “She’s worried how it’ll look when everyone learns she told Chucky you were here.”
“Is that what she said to you when she was talking to you on the porch?” she asked.
“Among other things.” He had more of that drink and sat down across from her. “Helene and I are not getting back together. Ever. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Good. Because she had enough to worry about, and apparently so did Logan.
“What else did Chucky say?” Reese pressed.
Logan took a long, deep breath. Probably not a good sign. “Chucky says he’ll start rumors that I could have saved my parents but that I was drunk when I got to the scene of the accident.”
The profanity flew out of her mouth before Reese even knew she was going to say it, and she slammed her glass on the coffee table. “That little shit. I want to go after him. I want to rip off his dick and beat him senseless with it.”
She was halfway to the door before Logan reached her. He caught onto her arm and whirled her back around. Reese was certain that the anger was visible in every part of her body, but Logan managed to look a lot calmer.
“Dick-ripping?” he questioned. “A little extreme, more like something Jimena would do, but thank you for the offer. I did notice, though, that you didn’t get pissed when Chucky threatened to slime you, only when he turned that potential slime on me.”
“Because he’s going after you because of me.” She still didn’t have control of her voice. It was too loud, too shrill.
“No, he’s going after me because he’s greedy and wants money. And he believes this is the fastest way to get it.”
That was true, but it didn’t help that situation. “So, what do we do?”
He kissed the tip of her nose and stepped away so he could get her drink. “We wait him out. Chucky wants money, and he loses the chance of getting that money if he spills all.”
Reese knew that was true, but the idea of waiting sickened her. “This is such a mess. Not just what Chucky is trying to do to us, but what Vickie’s trying to do to Delbert.” She sighed. “At least Delbert and I did something to get ourselves into hot water. You didn’t.”
She saw Logan flinch just slightly, and the only reason she caught it was because Reese had her attention nailed to him. It was still a sore subject after all these years, but she hadn’t heard any gossip about the accident.
“It’s ironic that a vehicle killed both your parents and Spenser,” she threw out there. Reese went with a hunch. “You think you should have been able to save them?”
He turned now, avoiding her gaze. “Do you think you should have been able to save Spenser?”
“Of course. In a perfect world, Spenser would have lived, redeemed himself and went off to live a happy life.” Reese paused. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
The words had hardly left her mouth when Logan turned, slid his hand around the back of her neck and dragged her to him.
“I’m tired of talking,” he said, and he crushed his mouth to hers.
* * *
LOGAN HADN’T INTENDED for the kiss to be foreplay. He’d just wanted to end the discussion, and the most pleasurable and fastest way to do that was just to kiss Reese. Of course, anytime he kissed her was pleasurable, but this particular kiss did double duty.
He didn’t want to think about his parents’ car accident, Spenser O’Malley, Chucky or anybody else. He only wanted to be with Reese tonight, and if he kept kissing her, that just might happen.
Outside, the storm kicked up, the wind and rain slapping against the windows. Since the back wall of his loft was about 70 percent windows and glass, it seemed as if the storm was right inside. Inside him, too, but Logan put all of that raw emotion into the kiss.
Reese staggered back, and for a couple of really bad moments, Logan thought she was calling a halt to this so they could keep on talking. But she was only catching her breath. Once she’d gulped in some air, she came right back to him, and she kissed him with as much emotion and intensity as he’d kissed her.
Maybe they both had some things to work out tonight, and Logan was thinking the bed was a good place to do that. Of course, that was his hard-on talking again, but for once maybe that idiotic part of him was actually making sense. At least this couldn’t complicate things because their lives were already beyond complicated.
Logan pushed that thought aside, too, and pulled her to him. Not that he had to do much pulling. Reese was already in the mode of having her body pressed against his. His hard-on thought that was an excellent notion, too, but there was something in his brain that kept telling him to slow down, to enjoy the moment, because with Reese he never knew how many more moments like this he was going to get.
So, Logan slowed the pace. Since it was already at frantic, it wasn’t easy. Still, he took his time, savoring her taste and the way she felt in his arms. Savoring her.
Man, she fired up every inch of his body, and he’d quit trying to figure out why. It probably didn’t make sense to her, either. He wasn’t the perfect man for her because she would always be worried about what people thought. About what people would find out to hurt them. But for this moment, it was perfect.
She was perfect.
Logan brushed some kisses on her neck, then lower to the tops of her breasts. It did exactly what he’d intended it to do. It got her hotter. Did the same to him as well, and without breaking those kisses, she started maneuvering them toward the bed.
He didn’t resist, but he continued to keep things slow. Tiny steps. Big, long kisses. So that by the time they did tumble onto the mattress, Reese knew that he meant business. A different kind of business since it was usually a frantic grab-and-get when they were with each other.
“You don’t have to make it nice for me,” she whispered.
“I’m not. This is for me,” he whispered back.
Reese stopped a moment, her gaze meeting his. The lights weren’t on, but a well-timed lightning bolt let him see her face. She was questioning this. And Logan knew why. For lack of a better word this was intimate, and they weren’t just swept up in the moment. They could decide whether to stop or not, but the decision would be made not with hard-ons and arousals but with their heads.
Scary shit.
Logan braced himself for Reese to cut and run, and she probably thought about doing that. But she didn’t. Her mouth came back to his, and she kissed him. Long, slow, deep.
He eased up her loose cotton dress, slipping it off. Her bra, too, so he could lower those kisses to her breasts. She made a silky sound of pleasure, took what he was offering, and she s
lid her fingers into his hair. He stayed there a moment, pleasuring her. Pleasuring himself, too, before he took the same slow pace to remove her panties.
His hard-on made itself known then. The brainless wonder wanted to dive right in, but Logan fought the urge and did something else he’d been wanting to do. He kissed every inch of Reese. By the time he worked his way back up to her mouth, she was panting. And grabbing at his clothes.
Logan let her grab, and he tried not to wince when she fumbled, and fumbled, and kept on fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. Since he didn’t want this to be a hand job, he finally helped her. Got his eyes uncrossed, too.
The condom was an issue since Reese tried to help with that, as well. Obviously, she’d reached her threshold for long and savoring and just wanted him inside her. Logan and his hard-on were all for that, but he still tried to hang on to the moment by entering her slowly.
That lasted a heartbeat.
Reese turned, flipping him on his back, and she got on top of him. The pace was anything but slow. It didn’t take her long to find the right rhythm, and since she was clearly hell-bent on finishing this too fast, Logan caught onto her hips to help her.
She looked amazing on top of him. Not like something from a porn movie, more like one of those sensual scenes where everything seemed graceful and choreographed. Of course, that was probably influenced by the fact she was fucking his brains out.
Thanks to some more lightning, Logan was able to see her face when she climaxed. Amazing. Watching her was almost better than having a climax of his own.
Almost.
Logan would have liked to watch a little while longer, but his hard-on had had enough. He caught onto Reese, pulling her down to him, and he let his hard-on finish what it’d started.
* * *
LOGAN FIGURED IT was the sound of the storm outside that triggered the storm in his head. The dream came just as real as it always was.
He was on the mental hamster wheel again, going through images so familiar that he didn’t need the dream to see them. Just like all those other times, he fought the skid on the road, fought everything inside him that tried to claw its way to the surface.
The fear.
The sickening dread of what he would see as he ran to the tangled wreck.
Tonight was no different. He pulled Claire to the side of the road. Protecting her. And then he was on the hamster wheel again, hurrying back to his parents. Realizing he’d made a mistake by not calling for help the second he’d spotted the wreck.
Just like every other dream, his mother turned and looked at him, the life already leaving her eyes. But she said something. This time, though, it was different. Logan didn’t just hear the words in his head; he saw them form on her lips. Barely a whisper. But it was more than loud enough for him to hear.
I love all five of you.
“Logan?” someone said.
Since he was still in the dream, it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t his mother calling out his name. It was Reese. She was shaking him, and she sounded very concerned.
Logan forced his eyes open, and just like that, the dream vanished. He hadn’t wanted to hold on to those images, anyway, but he wanted to hold on to those words.
“I love all five of you?” Reese questioned.
Obviously, he’d talked in his sleep. “The dream,” he managed to say.
“I suspected as much. I didn’t think you were talking to me and four other women.”
Good. Reese had kept it light. Not quite a joke, but it batted away some of the dark cobwebs.
“One of your parents said that?” she asked.
Logan sat up, nodded. “My mother. But I’m not sure she actually said it. Sometimes, in the dream she doesn’t say anything. Sometimes, she says what I want to hear her say.”
Reese stayed quiet a moment. “What do you want to hear her say?”
Logan stayed quiet a moment, too. “It’s all right. I forgive you for not saving us.”
He figured Reese was going to be surprised by that, but she didn’t seem to be. She made a sound of understanding. “I do that with my Spenser dreams. I rewrite what happened so that it has an ending I can better handle. It doesn’t help.”
“Then what does help?” And he was serious. Because while Reese was still troubled by what’d happened to Spenser, she wasn’t the one having nightmares or migraines.
“Accepting it,” she said.
“You’re able to do that?”
“Most days.” She settled against him. “It’s not a perfect solution, but I don’t think we ever get perfect when it comes to our past.” She groaned softly. “Sorry, that’s probably too deep for a postsex chat.”
Only if they were trying to make sure the postsex chat didn’t mean anything. This conversation meant something. On the surface, they didn’t have a lot in common, but beneath the surface, that was a whole different story.
“Jimena said you were always packed and ready to leave,” he threw out there.
“I am. Though I can’t imagine why she’d tell you that.”
“Because I asked her. I figured now that the engagement party was over, you’d be looking to move.” Logan adjusted his position so he could look her in the eyes. “Give it at least another week.”
Reese certainly didn’t jump to agree to that. “And then?”
“And then give it another week after that.”
She smiled. Barely there and brief. But it was still a smile. “I’ll think about it, but Jimena doesn’t believe this will turn out well between us.”
No, she didn’t. Most people probably felt that way including members of his own family. Thankfully, they hadn’t voiced those concerns to his face.
“Get some sleep,” she said, brushing a kiss on his cheek.
“You, too.” But Logan thought he should add one more thing. “Don’t let Jimena put cat shit in my coffee.”
Not just a smile this time but also a chuckle. Logan suddenly wasn’t sleepy at all and wondered if he could cash in that laugh for another round of sex. But he must have tempted fate with that thought because his phone buzzed.
He checked the time. It was just past midnight. Way too late for someone to be calling him about business so that meant it was some kind of emergency. He got a slam of instant memories. Of another storm. Of the car accident. And Logan grabbed his phone so fast that he nearly dropped it. He didn’t even check the screen before answering.
“McCord,” the caller said. Definitely not family, but it was a voice that Logan recognized.
Chucky.
“What the hell do you want?” Logan greeted.
“Just thought you should know that I worked out a deal with your lady friend, and I’ll be leaving town.”
By lady friend, Chucky was no doubt referring to Helene. “She paid you off?” Logan countered, and he put the call on speaker so Reese could hear.
“Just in case you’re recording this, let’s just say we came to a mutually satisfying agreement.” Chucky mispronounced mutually.
Yeah, Helene had paid him off.
“Then why call me with all of this?” Logan asked. But as soon as the question left his mouth, he got a really bad feeling about this.
“Because I didn’t want to leave without telling you about Vickie.” Chucky cleared his throat. “Your lady friend probably doesn’t know it, but Vickie broke into her office. Vickie’s sneaky like that. Anyway, Vickie found something that she might try to use against your lady friend. Something Vickie can use as blackmail.”
Logan dragged in a long breath. “Let’s just cut the lady-friend crap and tell me what Vickie found in Helene’s office.”
“Not Helene,” Chucky corrected. “Your other lady friend, the one who works for you now. Jimena.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
JIMENA WAS LATE for their meeting, and Reese figured that was exactly what her friend wanted to be. Because Jimena was avoiding this conversation.
Reese didn’t need any special powers to determine that.
When Reese had called Jimena immediately after Chucky’s bombshell news, Jimena hadn’t been asleep—because she was with Jason—but after Reese had told her it was important that they talk, Jimena had said she’d meet Reese at the Bluebonnet Inn at eight the following morning. That way, they could chat before Jimena had to go to work. Well, Reese was here.
But Jimena wasn’t.
It was only ten past eight, which meant Jimena was hardly late enough to start thinking about her friend being hurt and lying in a ditch or something, but Reese had to know what Vickie had found in Jimena’s desk.
Of course, this all could turn out to be some kind of con on her mother’s part. Maybe on Chucky’s part, too. Because maybe there’d been nothing to find, but this could be a way of stirring up Reese. If so, it had worked.
It had worked for Logan, too. He was at the McCord building with a team that was installing a security system. One that would no doubt be top-notch and would prevent future break-ins. It was too bad they didn’t have a time machine to go back and undo the break-in her mother had supposedly done.
Reese prayed this didn’t end up hurting Jimena in some way.
Her phone rang, and Reese was ready to chew out Jimena for being late, but it wasn’t Jimena. It was Helene. Good gravy. She hadn’t had enough caffeine yet to deal with Helene. Reese answered, anyway, because she was still worrying about the “Jimena in a ditch” theory, and Helene might know something to dispel that.
“Sorry to bother you so early,” Helene greeted, “but I knew you were up because I saw you leave Logan’s about an hour ago.”
Reese didn’t ask how she’d seen that, but Helene did have an office just up the street from the McCord building so it was possible the sighting had been accidental and that Helene wasn’t spying on her. From everything Reese had heard about Helene, the woman worked long hours and was often in early enough to have seen Reese leave.
Blame It on the Cowboy Page 25
