Crashing Together (Silver Bay Book 2)

by Amelia Judd

  “Gosh almighty! Is that your car?” Excitement shone through her cloudy cataracts.

  “It is today,” Kat answered with a grin, opening the passenger door. “Do you need help getting in?”

  “Nope. These low cars are easy to get into.” Mrs. D. lowered herself butt first into the front seat. “Might need some help getting out though.”

  Kat shut the door, then hustled to the driver’s side and climbed in a second later. “I brought a friend along today,” she said and made quick introductions.

  Mrs. D. turned to look at Logan. “My goodness, you’re a humdinger of a man.”

  Sitting knees to chin in the back, Logan started in surprise, his eyes going wide. “Umm. Thank you.”

  “Oh my! You have an accent too. What a fun day we’re going to have, eh?” Mrs. D. clapped her hands in excitement and turned her attention to Kat. “He reminds me of my Charlie. So big and so strong and such a wonderful lover.”

  Hearing a sharp intake of breath behind her, Kat checked on Logan in the rearview mirror as she pulled into traffic. His handsome features registered a mixture of shock and amusement.

  “Charlie didn’t have hair like that though,” the tiny woman continued. “My goodness, what pretty blond waves he has. Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve been trying to sleep with him, but he keeps saying no.” Glancing at Mrs. D., Kat gave a palms-up gesture. “I don’t get it. We’re both single, and he totally finds me hot.”

  “Maybe all his parts don’t work right, eh?” Mrs. D. dropped her voice to a loud whisper.

  “Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that.” Kat grinned at the strangled sound coming from the backseat and semi-smoothly shifted the car into third gear. “I figured he was playing hard to get. But maybe you’re on to something.”

  “You know I can hear you, right?” Logan’s deep voice rumbled with irritation.

  “Oh my. Do men do that nowadays?” Mrs. D. asked, ignoring the objection from the back seat. “When I was young, I had more men chasing me than I could poke a stick at. My Charlie used to show up at my house every Saturday morning with a handful of wildflowers he picked in the woods behind his parents’ house. ’Course, one morning the bunch he brought had three perfect red roses tucked in there too. He swore he didn’t steal them from old Mrs. Nevenhaur’s yard, but I always suspected he’d done just that.” Mrs. D. chuckled at the memory then patted Kat on the arm. “Don’t worry about it, dear. You just be yourself. He’ll come around.”

  “I’m only in town for a short while,” Logan explained. “I’m not getting involved because I don’t want her to get hurt. Bloody noblest thing I’ve ever done, and all I get is shit for it,” he added under his breath.

  “Why do you have to leave town?” Mrs. D. asked, turning in her seat to stare him down. “And where are you going then?”

  “My job here only lasts through the summer,” he said, sounding a bit defensive. “Not sure where I’m going after that. Might go back to Costa Rica … Might go somewhere new.”

  “Logan doesn’t stick,” Kat explained.

  “Why not?”

  “Glad you asked, Mrs. D. I’ve been working on a few theories about that.”

  “I bet you’ve come up with some doozies, eh?” Mrs. D’s voice sounded as effervescent as her bright-yellow ensemble.

  “Oh, they’re doozies all right,” Kat confirmed with exaggerated severity. “Wanna hear them?”

  “Yeah!”

  “No!”

  Though Mrs. D.’s and Logan’s simultaneous responses were equally passionate, Kat—not so surprisingly—ignored Logan’s.

  “Theory one—”

  “Instead of yabbering about my flaws,” Logan groused behind her. “It’d be ace if you told me where we’re going and if we’re going to get there before my dangly bits join both of my feet in slumber.”

  Kat smirked at Logan in the mirror. “No worries, mate. I’m happy to wake up your sleeping extremities when we arrive.”

  Logan sighed. “Where exactly is there?” he asked, totally ignoring her generous offer.

  “Katherine takes me with her whenever she drives to Sheboygan to mow the yard at my friend Lillian’s house. That way Lillian and I can catch up at least once a week. ’Course, I couldn’t go last time because Katherine’s car was too hot for me to ride in that far. I’m sure glad I could come along this time. I would have hated to miss two trips in a row.”

  “How often does Katherine help your friend?”

  Kat tensed at the blatant sound of interest in Logan’s voice. “My involvement doesn’t matter. The important thing to note is the need to help older folks in the area.”

  “Oh my, let’s see,” Mrs. D. said, turning to Logan as if Kat hadn’t said a damn thing. “She helps Lillian with shopping and odds and ends around the house whenever she mows her yard. She stops at my house to help out every Wednesday after taking me to the grocery store. And she runs some other errands for me and my other friend Margaret during the week. ’Course, now she’s also taking Harry to his chiropractor appointments in Green Bay. I’m not sure how she’s going to do it all now that she works at her sister’s place.”

  Kat gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I told Hannah I could only work mornings. I’ll still be able to help out in the afternoons.” She could feel Logan’s gaze locked on her. And not in a hot, sexy kind of way. Nope, he was sending off a smug I-know-something-you-don’t-want-me-to-know vibe.

  Logan remained quiet the rest of the drive. Kat wasn’t sure if he was pondering what he’d learned about her or if the cramped conditions had cut off circulation to his brain. Either way, she appreciated that the conversation was no longer about her.

  When she pulled to a stop in front of Lillian’s small, square blue house a half hour later, Mrs. D. had just finished a long, very detailed Internet-shopping lecture on why it was better to use a free-shipping coupon over a twenty-percent-off coupon.

  “We’re here,” Kat said, hopping from the car before Mrs. D. launched into her tirade about deceitful return policies. She hustled to the passenger side and helped pull the older woman to her feet.

  “Thanks, dear. I’ll go see Lillian.” She patted Kat’s arm before speed shuffling toward the front door.

  Kat turned her attention to Logan struggling to extract himself from the tiny backseat. It took a minute—and an excessive amount of swearing—but he eventually made it out. After stretching to his full height and working out a few kinks in his neck, Logan turned his baby blues to her—a satisfied smile on his face.

  “So, darl, you’re a real-life superhero disguised as a badass, ay.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You had me fooled. Had no idea a tiger like you could have such a soft underbelly.”

  The middle finger seemed like the only appropriate response to his asinine comment, so that’s the one she gave him. Ignoring his answering laughter, she stomped toward the tool shed to retrieve the ancient push mower.

  “Soft underbelly, my ass,” Kat grumbled to herself. “I bet he won’t be laughing when I hit every frickin’ pothole on the drive home.”

  Chapter 8

  THE next evening, sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, Kat reread Logan’s text, desperately hoping she’d misunderstood it the first time.

  Good news. Talked to your parents. Willing to hear more about proposal to focus program on senior citizens. Discussing with them over dinner. Don’t wait up.

  Her heart hammered against her rib cage and her stomach tightened into a painful knot. The last rays of sun were about to slip below the western landscape. In less than ten minutes, it would be completely dark outside, and she was sitting in the middle of frickin’ nowhere by herself.

  As a sheen of sweat covered her body, Kat quickly checked the locks on all of the cottage’s doors and windows. She could do this. Logan wouldn’t be gone for more than a few hours. She could watch a movie to pass the time. Or read a book. Or hide under her bed.

 
; No! She had to fight against her weakness. She wouldn’t cower anymore. If she didn’t stand up to this ridiculous fear, it would continue to grow until it eventually controlled every aspect of her life.

  Kat ground her teeth and focused on taking deep, slow breaths while she tossed a salad together for dinner. Don’t think about it. Don’t frickin’ think about it. She repeated the words over and over in her head, carried her dinner to the couch, and pulled up Guardians of the Galaxy to watch. Not only would the awesome soundtrack and humor distract her, the movie should put her problem into perspective. She only had to hang out alone for one night; the Guardians had to save the whole universe.

  With about half the movie and almost all of her salad left to finish, Kat heard the rumble of a truck engine drive up the lane and pull to a stop outside her front door. It sounded like one of those powerful diesel engines she’d heard around Bennett Industries in the past.

  Holy hell. Some stranger, likely up to no good, was outside the cottage. He could break in and overpower her faster than she could call Logan or the police. And even if she did call for help, the guy could slit her throat and toss her body into the lake before anyone could get to the secluded cottage in time to stop him.

  Panic dropped her heart to her toes. She fumbled with the remote to turn off the television. She needed to hide, but her hands were shaking and her fingers were so numb she kept hitting the wrong damn buttons.

  Finally, she hit the power button sending the screen to black and the room into silence. And that’s when she heard the heart-stopping sound of a key sliding into the lock. Whoever was outside was about to come in!

  Kat grabbed the closest thing to a weapon she could find—sadly, her salad fork—braced herself for the upcoming fight, and watched in horror as the door swung open.

  “Hey, tiger. Miss me?” Logan sauntered through the door with his trademark easy smile and carefree attitude. But his face tightened the second he looked her way. “What’s wrong?”

  In that instant, she hated him. She hated him for leaving her alone at night and for scaring the shit out of her. She hated him for seeing her like this: afraid, vulnerable, pathetic. Most of all, she hated him for being so damn strong that he could live without fear controlling his life.

  Logan would never taste the metallic residue fear left behind in his mouth. Fear would never dominate his thoughts or control his actions. Fear would never hollow him from the inside while it fed on itself, growing stronger as it made him weaker. He would never know the crushing weight of fear or its ability to twist and warp you into a pathetic, useless version of your former self.

  She was weak. He was strong. And she hated him for it.

  But she hated herself even more.

  The fork slipped from her hand and clanked against the wood floor as the fight drained from her. Kat knew she should feel relieved and grateful to see him, or even angry and embarrassed. Instead, she only felt numb and tired.

  She didn’t even try to remain standing when her knees gave out. She was so drained she didn’t care if she landed on the couch or the floor. She sank only a few inches, however, before two strong hands caught her shoulders and hauled her back to her feet.

  “Look at me,” Logan demanded.

  The unexpected tension in his voice caught her attention more than his words. Only inches away, he stood directly in front of her, his hands still tightly gripping each of her shoulders.

  “How’d you get from there,” she said, nodding to the little foyer, “to here so quickly?”

  “I thought you were going to pass out, so I hurdled the damn couch. What the hell is wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she answered, feeling oddly distanced from the whole conversation.

  “Bullshit. You’re ghostly pale, shaking under my hands, and sound like a damn zombie.” He sounded royally pissed off. He must have thought the same thing because he drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “What happened to make you so scared?” he asked in a slightly calmer voice.

  She huffed out a humorless laugh. “Do you mean tonight or in the past?”

  “Both.”

  She’d never told anyone about the incident in DC that had sent her running back to Wisconsin almost a year ago. She’d been too ashamed of her weakness to admit it before, but now—drained of all emotions—she only felt numb. “Tonight,” she said, turning her head to stare blindly out the window, “I heard a truck I didn’t recognize.”

  “I borrowed a truck from your dad’s company, so I could take Lillian’s old mower in for a tune-up.”

  She locked her arms around her chest. “I thought someone was breaking into the cottage.”

  “Crooks don’t usually have keys.”

  “I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t … ” She paused and swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump forming in her throat. “I don’t like to be alone at night.”

  He cocked his head in confusion. “Why not?”

  Refusing to look at him, Kat clenched her jaw closed and shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t even want to think about it.

  “Tell me, or I’ll haul your butt to your parents’ house and tell them what’s going on.” He shrugged. “It’s your choice, but they’ll probably insist on attending multiple lengthy, emotion-baring therapy sessions with you.”

  “I don’t need therapy, jerkface.” Kat shoved his big chest with both hands. “I just need to move on. Talking to you while we braid each other’s hair isn’t going to help.”

  A smile tugged at his cheeks. “There’s the fire. I was starting to worry it had all burnt out.”

  His thumb grazed down her cheek with so much tenderness she should have made fun of him for it. But her defenses were down, and honestly, it felt nice to have someone care.

  “How about we sit down and you tell me the short version of what happened? If you don’t want to say anything else after that, I won’t push you for more details. Fair?”

  With a massive eye roll, Kat dropped her butt to the couch. “Fine. Let’s make this quick.” As soon as Logan sat down on the chair beside her, she launched into a bare-bones description of the night that changed her life. “I used to walk alone at night in DC all the time.”

  “Shit,” Logan mumbled, bracing his elbows on his knees and scrubbing a hand down his face. “I’m going to hate this story.”

  Kat took in his rigid body and uneasy expression and let out a dramatic sigh. “Relax. Nothing horrible happened. Some asshole took my bag and ran off. End of story.” She left out the ugliest details to save them both the discomfort of it. She figured her simplified version would appease his curiosity, and he’d let the subject drop.

  If anything, Logan’s expression looked even tenser. Actually, he was grinding his teeth so hard he looked about ten levels past tense. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head, not wanting to go there. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Logan balled his hands into fists. “Did he fucking touch you?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

  Kat flinched at the vivid memory his question triggered: the nauseating feel of a filthy forearm shoved into her throat, pinning her against the rough brick wall. It had left a nasty bruise on her neck for a couple of weeks, an unwanted visual reminder of the asshole who mugged her.

  Breaking eye contact, Kat dropped her gaze to her lap. “I only had one block to go before my apartment. I thought I was alone.” She sucked in a deep breath and tried to distance herself from the memory. No frickin’ way was she going to tear up in front of Logan. “I didn’t hear him come up behind me. I had no idea he was there until he grabbed me and pulled me into an alley beside the building. He pushed his arm into my throat to hold me against the wall while he said some disgusting things and dug through my pockets. When he heard a group of people turn onto the block, he grabbed my bag and took off.” She sniffled a little, shrugged, and returned her gaze to his. “I’d been an idiot to walk alone at night. I was lucky nothing worse happened. At
least, that’s what the police told me.”

  “Lucky? You were attacked, and they said you were lucky? Un-fucking-believable. Did they catch the bastard?”

  “No. They said it happened more often than people realized and that I shouldn’t go out alone at night anymore.”

  “So now you don’t feel safe if you’re alone at night anywhere,” Logan said evenly.

  “Pretty dumb, huh?” Kat scoffed. “I’m a grown woman who’s afraid of the dark.” Tears began to fill her eyes, and her throat tightened. She sniffed, swallowed roughly, and blinked her eyes like crazy, hoping to stop the waterworks before they really got going.

  “Oh, tiger, don’t cry.” Logan moved to sit beside her on the couch. He wrapped his muscular arm around her and pulled her tight to his side, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

  Burying her head in his solid chest, she drew in a deep breath. He smelled frickin’ amazing, like a spicy citrus soap mixed with warm male skin. She had the sudden urge to lick his neck. Huh? Who knew lust could chase away sadness so quickly? She snuggled up and sucked in another intoxicating lungful.

  Logan pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head again. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Just don’t cry.”

  She grinned against his chest. He must have thought she was fighting back a runny nose rather than getting drunk on his scent. God, she needed help. Logan was trying to comfort her, and her mind went straight to the sex. Clearly, he was the bigger person in more ways than one.

  “I’m fine now. I’m not going to cry.” She pulled back with a sigh. “Thanks for listening. I’ve never admitted that to anyone before.”

  “Admitted what?”

  “You know … taking stupid risks. Thinking nothing bad would ever happen to me. Feeling like I could take care of any situation that came up. My family would freak if they knew what I did.”