by S. M. Smith
“That was incredible. I have no idea how you understood a thing he said.”
He turns his grin my way and it takes my breath away.
“It’s definitely a learned skill.” He reaches around me for his glass of water, brushing my arm in the process. Although I told him not twenty minutes ago that I needed him to stay out of my personal space, I’m surprised to find myself shifting to get closer. When he stands back up, a yearning swallows up the depths of his eyes. He gets his drink and places the cup back on the table without taking his eyes off me.
“What?” I ask, both afraid of what might come out of his mouth and relieved with what won’t.
“Come on. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Taking my hand, we weave in between the tables, heading away from the floor. His eyes dart around until I see recognition and an almost giddy smile cross his face. When he slows at a table with a couple of older couples chatting amicably, a nervous tick starts in my chest. One of the gentleman looks up, pure delight illuminating his face when he catches Logan waiting patiently to interrupt.
“Logan!” The man stands, meeting Logan’s height dead on. His toned arms and trim waist sells the fact he’s a man who takes care of himself. The gray peppering his temples gives his middle age away, but the boisterous tone in his voice gives light to a lively spirit. “How you doin’, man?”
“I’m well, Coach. How are you?”
The older man glances my way but looks back to Logan and smiles even brighter and rubs his belly. “I’m full, the night is young and I hear there are fireworks after this shindig, so I can’t really complain.”
Logan actually laughs at the jovial man and his joy makes me chuckle with glee. Logan glances back and his smile, if possible, actually gets bigger.
“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your evening but—”
The coach shakes his apology off and sticks out his hand. “You must be the lovely Allie Mooreland. I was wondering when Lassiter would finally bring you around.”
“Allie, this is Coach Ryan. He coaches for the Rangers.”
Realization dawns on me, stunning me speechless.
“It’s good to finally meet you.” Coach pumps my hand as I just gape at him.
“You too,” I manage to muster. Logan smirks at me before turning back to his high school coach.
“Listen, Coach. I was hoping Allie and I could swing by your office sometime in the next week or two. I know Allie has a few questions for you and I thought we could show her around the campus?”
Coach Ryan places his hands on his hips and nods like this is the best idea he’s ever heard. “Yeah, of course. We start conditioning next week. You know we’d love to have you come out and work with some of the boys. I’m sure it would motivate a few of them to show up anyhow.”
Logan’s bashful smile pulls me out of my funk. I nudge him to encourage him to accept the coach’s invitation. It may not make national news, but it could make a world of difference in a couple of high school boys’ lives and I know that is the sort of thing that Logan could get behind. He purses his lips and turns back to the coach.
“I’ll see what I can manage.”
“That’s great, son. I’ll look forward to seeing you two then.” The coach gives us both a big grin and I finally find some words.
“It was nice to finally meet you, Coach.”
“You too, Allie.”
Logan takes up my hand again after he says his goodnights and I can’t help the giddiness bubbling up inside.
“That’s your high school coach.”
“That would be him.” He gives me the side-eye like my revelation is no big deal.
“You just introduced me to your high school coach. And you’re going to let me ask him questions.”
Logan pulls us to the edge of the tent and stops to face me. He’s masked his emotions, but I can tell he’s still riding the high of his square dance.
“Is it really that big of a deal to you?”
My jaw nearly hits the floor. “I’m totally confident that had there not been a storm that damaged your parents’ barn the night I arrived, and had I not insisted on you taking me over to help with the clean up, I still wouldn’t know who they are.”
He fidgets with his hat a moment before replacing it on his head.
“That’s not entirely true.”
Raising my brows, I cross my arms to wait out his admitting to just lying to me.
“They would have beaten down your door by now.”
I smile, because we both know it’s true. “But you wouldn’t have introduced me until it was absolutely necessary.”
“For their own safety.” He sobers.
“Because you think I’m dangerous.”
“When you’re trying to dance, yes.” He smirks.
I smack his chest and with wicked fast reflexes he grabs my hand. The air around us shifts and that look is back in his eyes again.
“You ready to show these folks the right way to dance?” he asks, his voice a bit huskier than normal. The way his thumb trails over the soft skin above my wrist mixes with his voice hypnotizing me. I barely have time to nod before he turns to lead me to the dance floor. With every step we take, I feel myself come out of my haze. The second he takes me in his arms, reality hits me and fear consumes me, causing my muscles to stiffen and my arms and knees to lock up.
“Relax, Allie. I’ve got you.” And when he makes his move, I find my body instinctively move too. I try to keep the fog out of my head and away from muddling up the steps by staying in the moment and letting myself feel the music. The Muddy River Buddy Boys are back at their covers of popular country songs, but the lyrics are lost on me as Logan glides me round the floor.
“What are you thinking about right now?” His question takes me out of the happy place I’ve allowed myself to go and back to the reality around us.
“Don’t step on his toes,” I admit shamelessly. My honesty earns me a chuckle.
“You’re not going to step on my toes. I’m too quick to let you.” He winks and I seriously miss a step. Grinning, he shakes his head. “Testing me, are you?”
“Uh huh.” Everything in me is screaming that we’re once again too close. I seriously need to distance myself, but my brain won’t tell my hands to let go of him. A very scared voice in the back of head might be shouting for me to stop this dance right now, but my heart wants to keep at it all night long.
“I really am sorry for earlier.” Logan’s tender timbre drowns out the mental debate in my head.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it really isn’t. You were right, we need to keep our relationship professional…” His eyes dart over the features of my face, searching for something.
“I feel a but coming.”
He swallows and looks out at the tables of people watching the floor. When he looks back at me the intensity in his eyes nearly causes me to stop. The music fades as they end one song and slip into the next, slower tune. I recognize the Old Dominion song Lucy fawned over while we were getting ready this afternoon. The steady voice pleads to his love that they dance one last dance, focusing on all the classic ballads instead of the fact that very soon she’ll be gone and they’ll be left with nothing but what ifs.
“But I don’t want to.”
His words cause me to stumble again and this time he moves us to the middle of the group, getting lost in the other couples swirling and twirling around us. His grasp on me tightens as if he can sense my need to run.
“Allie, I don’t know what it is about you, but I just can’t seem to get you out of my head.”
The atmosphere around us thickens, making it hard for me to breathe.
“This…you shouldn’t be saying things like this.”
“I know. I know I shouldn’t, but.” He sighs and I feel it coming. All the pent up tension we’ve been trying to outmaneuver. The blitz of emotions we’re unprepared to block. His hands meet my chin and his head tilts to meet mine. And then someone bumps him
from the side. When we both turn our head as if in a daze, a smug looking Cody Gentry spins his dance partner.
I step back, and turn, nearly crashing into other dancers, but manage to fight my way through the crowd and back to the table. Without answering the questioning looks from the senior Lassiters and Drew, I pick up my own glass of watered-down sweet tea and down the last of the contents. I don’t have to look up to know when Logan rejoins us but we unleashed something out on that floor and it’s roaring like a hungry beast between us. I’d bet good money that everyone around us can feel it too.
“Get your toes stepped on out here, little brother?” Drew sounds playful and the look on his face seems innocent enough. But Logan sits back in his chair and lets out a long, soft exhale.
“Something like that.”
***
I cling to Lucy like she’s a life preserver until the last of the fireworks fizzle in the sky. I think I wedged myself into making Carter feel like a third wheel, but I can’t be ashamed of myself for it. I needed her, not just as a barrier between me and her brother, but as an accountability partner to myself. I promised myself long ago that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt me ever again, and although I don’t expect Logan to personally hurt me, I know that nothing good can come from allowing myself to fall for him even in the slightest.
My heartbeat steadily spikes to alarming rates as we all say our goodnights and disperse to our own vehicles. The moment Logan shuts my door I feel the confines of the truck cab start to cave in on me. By the time he gets in and starts the truck, I feel the beginnings of a panic attack brewing. I can’t get the window to roll down and fresh air to fill my lungs fast enough.
“Allie, what’s wrong?” He stops the truck from pulling out of its parking spot.
“I think the fireworks got to me.” And not the ones that exploded in the sky.
“What do you need?” The panic in his voice is barely masked by his need to help.
“Just to breathe. I’ll be fine. Let’s go home.”
He nods, but my choice of words strikes another nerve within.
Like a sucker punch to the chest, everything suddenly makes sense.
The fear. The attraction. The empty feeling in my gut.
I miss home. But it’s not the apartment in California I miss. It’s the feeling of family I had when I first moved in with Maggie and Walt. It’s the feeling of belonging and feeling like had a role to fill in our little family. The feeling like I was needed and wanted, loved and cherished.
That would explain the attraction to Logan. He has his own ways, albeit almost always completely contradictorily, of making me feel wanted. Even though he has fought to keep me at arm’s length, he specifically asked for me to write the article. The way he listens to the smallest of details about my hopes and dreams, and then uses them to open up to me. The way he grabs my hand or places his own on my back when we’re in a crowd, like he doesn’t want to lose sight of me.
But I can’t feel the same way about him. The very essence of our current circumstances forbids me to allow myself to have anything more than a professional curiosity of him. Showing any kind of an emotional attachment to him could ruin my integrity and ultimately my career. Not to mention that I’ve put my heart out there so many times and all it’s ever gotten me is brokenness and loneliness. My heart is already too frail, and when he crushes it—because he will—I’ll have nothing left but an empty shell.
So as he drives us back to his ranch, I gulp in the fresh country air and make my resolution.
I have walls I need to reconstruct. I have to guard my heart and I have to put myself first.
Because falling for Logan and his family will only break me.
Chapter Twenty
The sun peeks through the curtains and I roll over for the millionth time since I first laid my head on my pillow five hours ago. I tried everything to get my mind to slow down long enough for me to fall asleep. I checked all my favorite blogs, even some I don’t like, read every article that even mentions the word football, but nothing could take my mind off the moment Logan’s lips almost met mine.
I didn’t leave an opportunity for us to talk about what that almost kiss meant last night. As soon we got back to the ranch, I made myself scarce, but in the shadows of the night, my mind played out every possible scenario. After several different dreams where I skipped back to the part where his warm, calloused hands crept up my face and wrapped his fingertips in my hair, the abandon in his eyes throwing caution to the wind and those full lips would have met mine, I forced myself awake and to get a grip on reality. Although every rational thought in my brain tells me I’m lucky that we didn’t actually kiss, my body and heart are singing different tunes. Both crave the attention and both are longing for the type of affection Logan could offer. And because my heart and my mind are at war with each other, sleep never truly takes me under.
My ears perk just like Hank’s when I hear clanging in the kitchen. Throwing the covers off me, I jump up and rush around to hop in the shower. Thirty minutes later, the delightful smell of bacon wafts into my room and I rush through getting ready, throwing on some running shorts and a long-sleeved t-shirt over my tank. I braid my hair across the top of my head, ensuring that the little hairs framing my face stay put during my run and grab my running shoes before heading to the kitchen for water. My stomach is rumbling, but one would think that with the amount of calories I consumed last night, I wouldn’t be so hungry. I guess when I take into consideration the fact I danced to the point of losing my mind and almost kissing the object of my assignment, I shouldn’t be surprised about my appetite this morning. The scent of sizzling bacon doesn’t help matters, either.
Just as I’m about to round the corner, I hear the back door open and Travis’s obnoxious laugh along with about half a dozen sets of clompy boots enter the kitchen.
“Mornin’, boss. Have a good night?” Travis asks, causing the snickers to start.
“Gentlemen. Anyone hungry?” Logan’s cool tone is clear, he’s not taking anyone’s crap this morning. I stop just as the wall ends, keeping to the security of being unseen, not sure if I want to walk in on this just yet.
“Oh yeah. Got any extra hot, young blondes on the menu?” a voice I don’t recognize retorts.
“Yeah, boss, I saw you sizzling up the dance floor with Miss Allie last night. Looks like the two of you were getting pretty cozy.” More laughs from the peanut gallery.
“Logan doesn’t get cozy, guys. He gets things done.” Travis’s innuendo causes an uproar that makes me want to round the corner and start swinging at smug faces.
A metal spatula hits something hard, a frying pan maybe, and the chortles stop abruptly. I jump at the sound and can feel the tension radiating through the wall.
“I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep the endless commentary that you all seem to have on my life to yourselves today.”
“What’s wrong, boss? Allie not put out—” Travis’s voice stops abruptly and I start to turn around until I hear the threat in Logan’s voice.
“You will not talk about her like that. In fact, if you want to stay and earn your paychecks, any and all of your remarks about Miss Mooreland will be kept to yourself from here on out. Is that understood?”
A chorus of “yes, sir” comes from the entire crew. Logan’s fierce protection of my dignity makes me smile, but scares me at the same time. I need to keep the line between us thick and impassable. Filling my lungs full of resolve, I square my shoulders and turn the corner.
And feel my lungs deflate like a balloon.
Every moment I spend with Logan Lassiter causes me to see him in a different light. This morning is no exception. His touseled hair and thin five o’clock shadow are telltale signs that he got about as much sleep as I did. And the consuming fire that was in his eyes last night is now a single flame, still burning, still holding out hope for what I know can never be.
“Mornin’, Allie.” The kid from the auction greets me, pulling
my gaze from Logan’s.
“Morning, Dean. Gentlemen.” I politely nod at the rest of the group now gaping at me from various spots around the large kitchen.
“You’re up awfully early.” Travis starts to give me a snarky smile, but Logan’s quick draw keeps me from saying anything.
“That’s enough.” Logan’s stone cold stare hits Travis and he wipes the smirk off his face and retreats with a plate full of food to the table in the dining room, mumbling a half-hearted apology as he passes me.
“I’m just getting a water bottle. I’ll be out of your way in a moment.” I reach into the fridge and do my best not to look anyone in the eye, but my stomach betrays me and growls so loudly it could do voice overs for The Lion King.
“Here. I saved you a plate.” I would have caught Logan’s tender voice in a stadium of obnoxious Rattler fans. It physically hurts to keep my eyes from meeting his.
“Thank you, but I’m going to work out before I eat.” I see his shoulders slump out of the corner of my eyes and I consider yanking the plate from his hand just to appease his downtrodden mood.
“Okay, well. It’ll be in the oven whenever you’re ready. But you know you shouldn’t work out on an empty stomach.” He puts the plate down on the counter and stretches out to reach into a cabinet and pull out a protein bar for me. “Eat this. You’ll probably burn through it quickly though, so…”
So don’t stay away too long. He doesn’t have to say it, but I get the message and it hurts to take it in.
