Between You and Me

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Between You and Me Page 9

by Jennifer Gracen

“He seems it. Charming, too.”

  “He is that.” Logan slanted her a sideways glance. “You, uh . . . have any interest? Because he was practically tripping over himself over you.”

  “He was not.”

  “Hell yes, he was.”

  She cocked her head and stared at him. “Are you trying to set me up with him?”

  “Uh . . . do you want me to?” Logan asked, even as a surge of jealous heat threatened to choke him.

  “No, thank you. I can get dates on my own.” Amused, she arched a thin brow at him, that regal look again. “Besides, I’m not looking to date right now. I have bigger plans, remember? I need to be alone, it’s better that way. The last thing I need as I’m trying to find a sperm donor and become pregnant is someone to mess up my focus. Dating will have to come later . . . if at all. Once I’m a single mother, that’ll change things too.” She sighed. “Too much information?”

  “Nope. I understand, it makes sense,” Logan said. Relief unraveled the knot in his chest. “I just thought Ford is healthy, single . . .”

  “I’ll find my own sperm donor, thanks,” she said on a bemused chuckle.

  Heat rose in his face. “Yeah, I’ll leave that to you. Sorry.”

  “Not at all. It was kind of sweet for you to think of that.” Her eyes left his to flutter up to the girl who’d appeared before them.

  “Ford asked me to bring these to you,” she said, handing them two plain glass flutes filled with fizzing pale gold liquid.

  “Thank him for us,” Logan said as he took them. He handed one to Tess as the music overhead changed to an upbeat romp. Someone gave a hearty whoop and a holler, and the energy in the whole place went up a few notches. Logan checked his watch. “Five minutes to go.”

  Tess smiled in response and sat up, looking around the coffeehouse to take in the scene. Logan watched her, entranced. So beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman in the whole damn room. He was glad to be there with her. He was glad he’d gone out at all, and that it had gone well.

  “So,” she said, turning back to him. She held her glass in one hand between long, manicured fingers. “Make a wish for the new year, and we’ll compare notes next year and see if it came true.”

  “You first,” he said, taken by the light in her eyes.

  “Besides the obvious, I want to have a baby? Um . . .” She considered for a few moments, the sounds of the other patrons and music swirling around them. “I hope to have an unexpected adventure. Something that’ll bring real joy.”

  “Along with being pregnant? Sounds interesting.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not indeed. That’s a good New Year’s wish.”

  “And you, Mr. Carter?”

  He grinned, stroking his beard with his free hand as he thought. “An unexpected adventure sounds good. With what’s around the bend, I’ll likely need one. Something to bring me some peace.”

  Her gaze softened, went liquid. She gently tapped her glass to his. “That’s a great New Year’s wish. I hope you have that.”

  “To both of us having joy and peace in the New Year,” he said. They sipped their sparkling cider and their gazes locked . . . then the room erupted around them. In lively shouts, the people in the room counted down the last ten seconds of the year, and all Logan could do was stare into Tess’s eyes. When the clock struck midnight and everyone cheered and yelled in excitement, he leaned forward, cupped the back of her neck, and gently pulled her in. His mouth grazed hers in a soft, sweet kiss.

  He lingered for a delicious moment, savoring the feel of her lips against his. But when he went to pull back, her hand flew up to cup his cheek, bringing his mouth back to hers for more. He kissed her harder this time, full and blazing. Her lips parted, an invitation, and he took it. His tongue swept inside as he deepened the kiss, tasting her sweetness. Insistent warmth flowed through him. She inched closer, meeting his heat with her own, and he lost himself in her. Sounds and colors around them disappeared . . . There was nothing but them, and the moment.

  The searching kisses burned hot and slow, their mouths moving sensually together, tongues tangling, shortened breaths. His fingers sifted through her hair, the softness of her thick curls a delicious surprise. She moaned softly into his mouth, yielding to him . . . A loud cheer across the room startled him and he pulled back, breathing as hard as if he’d hiked up the side of the mountain.

  Her eyes, heavy-lidded and dark with desire, locked with his. He realized she was breathing heavy too, and fire seared through his veins, leaving him stunned.

  “Happy New Year,” she whispered.

  “Happy New Year,” he whispered back. His fingertips trailed along the side of her face. Her skin was impossibly soft. He felt like he was in a trance.

  Something vibrated against her leg. With a start, she realized it was her phone, which she’d left beside her on the love seat. Blushing as she laughed, she picked it up to look at the screen. “My brother,” she said. “He’s always the first to call on New Year’s.”

  “Which one?” Logan asked. His voice felt thick in his throat and the room seemed a little hazy. His blood still pounded through his veins, and his jeans felt way too tight.

  “Charles,” she said. “Do you mind . . . ?”

  “Of course not, take the call.”

  He sat back and gulped down the cider as he watched her briefly chat on the phone. That had been a hell of a kiss. And yes, he’d initiated it, but she’d taken it a step further. She’d been as into it as he was. Damn, she was so gorgeous. And sexy, and . . .

  He downed the rest of the drink and set the empty glass on the table. Whatever was bubbling up inside, he had to put a lid on it immediately. So what if that kiss showed the attraction was mutual. So what if it’d been steamy as hell and made him want to lay her back on the love seat and take her right there. She’d been very clear: no dating for her. She wanted to be alone.

  They were friends. Kind of. And that was all they would be. If they ever kissed again, it’d have to come from her. He wouldn’t push it. He was an honorable man, he’d respect her boundaries, and that was that.

  Her eyes met his as she wrapped up the call, and a catlike grin spread across her beautiful face. Damn, he wanted her. The force of it gripped him with claws, the rock-hard evidence still straining painfully against his jeans. He schooled his features into neutrality and took some deep breaths, willing the haze of lust to dissipate. The memory of that mind-bending kiss would have to last him, and that was all there was to it. Tess Harrison was off-limits.

  * * *

  Tess enjoyed the warmth and quiet inside Logan’s truck as he drove her home. The black sky outside was filled with stars. “It always amazes me,” she said as she stared out the window, “the sky here at night. Seems bigger than in New York. And the stars! You can see so many. And they truly sparkle. It’s breathtaking.”

  “I know what you mean.” Logan’s deep voice was soft. “I didn’t realize how much I loved it until I moved away. The sky is different here, I think. Seems that way, anyway.” He kept his eyes on the road as he maneuvered around the bends of Red Mountain in the dark. “When I moved from New Orleans, I spent a lot of nights sitting outside, just staring up at the stars. It was . . . very soothing. Calming.”

  “Sounds very Zen,” she said.

  His cynical grin delighted her. “Yeah, well, that’s about as Zen as I get, I suppose.”

  “Too pragmatic for all that?” she guessed.

  “Yeah. I’ve just . . . seen too much, I guess.” His lips flattened into a thin line. “Gave up on things like that—Zen, inspirational crap, magic, all that—a while back. I used to think everything happened for a reason. Then I came to realize it’s all bullshit. Sometimes, bad things happen and there’s no goddamn explanation. That’s it.”

  His voice wasn’t hard, but the words were. She wondered what he’d seen to make him feel that way. The lines around his eyes crinkled as he squinted into the darkness. He lapsed into a darkness
of his own at times, and she wanted to know why. She wanted to know him better.

  But he was something of a loner, a man who cherished his solitude. And things he’d told her tonight had only reinforced her suspicions: The man was an island. Which was fine, but she needed to focus all her energies on herself right now, not on this enigmatic man and what made him tick, no matter how alluring she found him. No matter how he could kiss her and make her feel like he was both devouring and revering her at the same time.

  God, that kiss . . . It’d been incredible. She wondered if there was any chance of a repeat when she got home, or if that’d been a one-time, New-Year’s-Eve-at-midnight kiss. Her fingertips drifted to her lips as she recalled how his warm, firm mouth felt against hers. The command in his touch, the barely restrained fire . . . Her belly did a little flip and she swallowed hard.

  When he pulled up the long driveway and stopped at her front door, he got out before she even had her coat zippered up. He opened her door for her and offered a hand to help her out of the truck, a perfect gentleman.

  She murmured thanks as she stepped out. They stood there, smiling pleasantly at each other.

  “Thank you for tonight,” she said. “I really enjoyed our time together.”

  “I did too,” he said. “It was great.”

  “So you’re finally convinced I’m not an entitled rich brat?” she asked.

  His eyes fell away in obvious embarrassment, then lifted to meet hers. “I was very wrong about you. Have you forgiven me for being a horse’s ass about it?”

  “Absolutely.” Her smile broadened. He was so close that even in the frigid air, she could feel the heat coming off his large, powerful body. Warmth pooled in her limbs, searing through her more sensitive parts . . . She didn’t want the night to end. She wanted to wrap herself in his strong arms. To take him inside and luxuriate in more of those hot, bone-melting kisses.

  But this wasn’t supposed to be a date. And it was freezing outside. She cleared her throat and said, “Good night, Logan. Thank you again for tonight.” She put her hands on his broad chest, leaning against him to rise and press her lips to his cheek.

  His hands came up and wrapped around her arms, holding her there. Her cheek leaned against his, his beard tickling her and sparking fresh desire. He didn’t kiss her, but held her close for a lingering moment. Her heart started pounding in her chest. All she had to do was turn her face and she could kiss him . . . It seemed like maybe he wanted to? But no . . . If he wasn’t kissing her, maybe he didn’t want to again. Not knowing what to do, she drew back.

  His pale green eyes blazed with intensity as he stared down at her. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then stopped. A hint of a wistful smile curved his lips, and all he said was, “Good night, Tess. Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year,” she said, and pulled away from him to go inside.

  Chapter Eight

  Logan shone the flashlight at the boiler in the dark basement of the LeFabrays’ ski house, squinting as he examined it. This was the second time the pilot light had gone out in the last week. Something was definitely wrong; he just had to figure out what. It’d seemed like an easy fix when he was here on the twenty-eighth. The fact that it was out again by the second irritated him more than anything. It shouldn’t have happened again. He hadn’t missed anything, he was always thorough . . . He suspected it was time for a new boiler, and though his clients upstairs had more money than God, they’d grumble about that.

  Half an hour later, after a slightly unpleasant conversation with Blaine and Missy LeFebray, he climbed into his truck, grateful for the whip of the cold morning air against his face. He needed a second cup of coffee, or a run on the treadmill. As he turned on the ignition and decided which to pursue first, his phone buzzed in his coat pocket. Three texts; they must have come in while he was in the basement. As it was, cell reception on Red Mountain could be spotty, but in the basement of a McMansion, he absolutely hadn’t gotten those messages.

  The first was from his mom, saying good morning and asking if he’d come by for dinner. The second, from Ford, a simple hey, what’s up. The third was from Tess, asking if he’d give her a call when he was able to, she had a question. A little thrill rolled through him. He’d had her on his mind since he’d dropped her off at her house about thirty-six hours before. New Year’s Eve with her had been really nice . . . and then, more than nice. That kiss had him in lusty knots every time he recalled it, which was often. The way she felt, the way she smelled, the way her wide blue eyes sparkled with laughter or darkened with desire . . . dammit, she was in his head, and getting under his skin.

  He’d decided space would probably be a good thing, no matter how much he found himself drawn to her. But one text, and here he was, answering her right away.

  “Good morning, Logan. Thanks for getting back to me so soon.”

  He liked her voice. Warm, friendly, yet the intelligence shone through. “Sure. What can I do for you? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. Remember when I said I wanted to go skiing soon, and you said you could set that up for me if I wanted?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He reached for his sunglasses and put them on. The glare off the snow was blinding. “Which mountain were you thinking?”

  “We’ve always gone to Ajax,” Tess said. “I could easily set up a reservation myself, and I’m going to. But I was wondering if you would join me. Do you ski?”

  He paused, his brain processing her request. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

  “Would you like to join me, then? I haven’t been skiing in two years, I’m likely rusty. And besides, it’s more fun to go with someone than hit the slopes alone.”

  “That’s true.” If she skied on Ajax, she must be a decent skier; that mountain was for intermediate to expert levels. The thought of going skiing with her . . . She wanted him to go with her? He hated how he was grinning, alone in the truck like a loon. Jesus, he was like . . . smitten. Shit.

  “It’d be my treat,” she continued. “You took me out the other night, paid for everything on our friendly non-date . . . Now it’s my turn.”

  “You’re on. Plus, I can keep an eye on you. Wouldn’t want you falling all over yourself on your own, now would we?”

  “Oh good.” She sounded amused. “My schedule is wide open, but you have work hours to consider. So tell me when would be good for you, and I’ll set it up.”

  “Um . . .” He ran through his week’s schedule in his head. Lighter than usual, at the moment. And Mom didn’t have radiation again until the fourth . . . “I can do tomorrow afternoon. I’m free after twelve thirty. That’s enough time before it gets dark, right?”

  “Absolutely! So I tell you what. I’ll set it all up, you just meet me there. Ajax at one o’clock, then?”

  “Sounds good.”

  When the call ended, Logan sat for another minute in his truck, thinking over the invite. This budding friendship, or whatever this was, budding between him and Tess, gave him more of a rush than he wanted to admit. She was like a breath of fresh air, yet tangled him up in knots at the same time. Spending time with a gorgeous, smart, nice woman wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to him lately, that was for sure. And just as friends, no pressure? He’d try to get out of his own way and enjoy it.

  * * *

  Tess yawned as she lay back against the couch. Her eyes were tired from staring at her laptop for three hours straight, and she rubbed them gently to soothe them. The house was quiet, save for the Jack Johnson music playing off her sound system. After her call with Logan in the morning, she’d gone to her yoga class, then spent the rest of the day doing more research. By the late afternoon, she’d made the all-important call: She had an appointment with a doctor at the Garrity Fertility Center for the day after tomorrow. The Garrity, located on the outskirts of Aspen, was a highly touted fertility and reproductive medicine clinic, and the doctor she’d requested was on several Best Of lists. Time to get the party started.
It could take months until she conceived . . . if she did at all. She didn’t think she’d have a problem, but she was almost thirty-eight already, so who knew?

  No more waiting. She knew she wanted a baby. She longed for one, ached for a little boy or girl to share her life with and lavish her love upon. Maybe, if the first time went well, she’d even be able to do it a second time. She’d always wanted more than one child . . . she’d been so glad to have siblings growing up, and wanted the same for her own family.

  She took a few deep breaths and kept her tired eyes closed. Peace and quiet settled over her, even as a spark of excitement hummed through her bones. This time next year, she could be pregnant. Or even, if she was extraordinarily lucky, she could be a mother already. Smiling to herself as that thought warmed her, she tried to decide what to have for dinner.

  Her phone rang, shattering her serenity. Bubbles barked at the sound. Mildly annoyed by the intrusion, Tess leaned over to pick up her phone and glance at the screen. The annoyance increased tenfold. With a little huff, she answered the call. “Hello, Mother.”

  “Happy New Year, darling!” Laura Dunham Harrison Evans Bainsley’s voice was full of overexaggerated affection.

  “It’s January second,” Tess pointed out.

  “Oh, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud,” Laura said. “This is the first chance I’ve had to call you. I was in Saint-Tropez, on a yacht, on New Year’s Eve. It was fabulous. Wish you’d been there with me!”

  “Sure you do,” Tess said. She rolled onto her side to gaze at the flames that burned in the fireplace. “Glad you had a nice time.”

  “I did, I always do. So how are you? What did you do for New Year’s?”

  “I’m at the house in Aspen.”

  “Oh! That’s great. Spending a week there at the holidays is always nice.”

  “Actually, I’m going to be staying here for a while. Couple of months, I think. I’m playing it by ear.” Tess had no desire to let her mother in on her plans . . . yet at the same time, a tiny bit of yearning snuck in, deep inside. She wished, as she planned to have a baby on her own, that she had a mother she could talk to, confide in, lean on for support.

 

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