The Best Man's Baby

by Karen Booth

  Forget the song—she had little defense for Logan when he was acting like this. Romantic. Slightly bossy. Sexy as all get-out. This was precisely the version of Logan she couldn’t resist at the beginning of the summer. This was the Logan who could leave her undone with a single glance. Dancing was the least of her worries—all he had to do was look at her in the right way and she’d be clay in his very capable hands.

  “I’m worried about what might happen if there’s too much touching.”

  “It’s just a dance. We’re taking the room for a spin. Seems like part of our due diligence as best man and maid of honor. We wouldn’t want Tracy to tell us tomorrow that something’s wrong with the way the lights are strung.”

  “You’re just saying that because I’m trying so hard to keep her happy.”

  “Okay, then. How about this? You and I have to convince a whole lot of people that we’re a couple. Consider it practice.”

  She couldn’t argue with him on that. And at least she felt like she had someone on her side, stuck in her proverbial boat. Where would she be right now if she didn’t have Logan? Feeling even more alone than she already did. At least someone knew her secret. And someone understood how she felt about making her sister happy. It was merely an unfortunate coincidence that her ally in secret-keeping and wedding planning also happened to be the man who broke her heart.

  Logan continued with the dance, committing to it with a more deliberate sway. He squeezed her hand and pressed into her back with his other hand. Julia admired the handsome and cocky grin on his face as each musical note pulled her further under his spell. It was like his lips were sending her secret messages. Just another kiss, Jules. You know you loved the one from earlier today.

  His eyes drifted lower, and she couldn’t help but be amused by the way he unsubtly ogled her cleavage.

  “My eyes are up here, mister.”

  A guilty smile crossed his lips. “What? It’s impossible not to look. I mean, they’re right there.”

  “They’ve always been right there.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Not like this, they haven’t.” He shook his head. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

  “No. What were you going to say?”

  He pulled her closer, pressing their chests together, his mouth drifting to her ear. “I’m not saying another thing on the subject. I’ll just get into trouble.” The heat of his breath grazed her neck, sending a rush of warmth through her.

  “Fine. Then dance with me.” She gave in to the moment, settling her head against Logan’s shoulder. He pulled her even closer and held her tight. Side to side, slow and steady, feet moving only slightly, their dance continued into a different song—less meaningful in terms of their shared history, but still laid-back and sexy. His warmth poured into her, wrapping her up in contentment.

  “I was thinking about the parties you and Tracy used to have here. The ones your parents didn’t know about,” Logan said.

  “They were fun, weren’t they?” So many of her memories of this house were tied to those parties. After Julia had gotten her driver’s license, she and Tracy used to sneak the keys to the beach house and invite friends over. Neither girl had been particularly wild, and Julia always insisted the guest list be small and they leave the house immaculate, but they certainly did things they shouldn’t have been doing—drinking beer and kissing boys, mostly, although Tracy had far more luck in that department than Julia. That was until the night Logan showed up.

  “Of course, I think the first one I came to was the most fun.”

  She had to smile. “It might have been the best night ever.” It had been the best—a huge turning point for her. Emboldened by half a can of light beer, Julia finally had the guts to talk to Logan. She’d been pining for him for more than a year before that. “We talked forever that night.”

  “A lifetime.”

  Indeed, they’d had an hours-long conversation out on the dunes, Julia with her knees pulled up to her chin and Logan stretching his legs and digging his feet into the sand. She’d never listened to anyone so eagerly, hanging on every word as Logan told her about losing his dad, about trying to be the man of the family, about baseball. Summer wind swirled, whipping at the beach grass as the roar of the ocean swelled and receded over and over again. It was literally a dream come true... Logan Brandt, the most perfect guy she’d ever laid eyes on, had not only noticed her, he’d talked to her. He’d held her hand. And then, beneath that impossibly beautiful midnight-blue sky, he’d done the thing she’d worried no boy as amazing as Logan would ever want to do. He’d kissed her.

  Logan cleared his throat and began trailing his fingers along her spine. It felt so good. Too good. “I know I rambled on and on that night. I was nervous about kissing you.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. You were so smooth. You’ve always been the smooth guy.”

  “Something about you made me question my kissing ability.”

  She laughed quietly. “You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Julia could’ve sworn she floated on air for two days after that first kiss. Even if nothing else had ever happened between them, she could have lived off the memory for a lifetime. When he’d asked her a week later to be his girlfriend? She was so gone, up to her neck in her first love, the then-shy Julia didn’t even bother with an answer. She’d thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him like her life depended on it. Was there any better feeling than that? Julia didn’t think so, even now. That love had transformed her. It had made her believe that she was lovable. She’d never really been sure of it before that.

  “I’m not sure I buy it when you say you felt nothing from our kiss in front of the cameras.” Logan’s voice was low, resonating throughout her body. It wasn’t just the kiss that made her feel something. Everything about him made her feel, and that was a terrifying feeling. Leaving herself open to him eventually led to hurt. Always.

  A heavy sigh escaped her lungs. “It was a kiss. It didn’t change my world,” she lied.

  Logan reared back his head and brought their dance to a stop. “I don’t believe you.”

  “They’re my feelings. I think I know what I did and did not feel.” She tried to avoid his gaze, but he followed her with his, as if he was pleading for a retraction. “Fine. It was a nice kiss. You’ve always been a good kisser. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “I’m not fishing for compliments. I felt something, and I think you did, too. I think you’re trying to convince yourself of something that isn’t the way it actually happened.”

  She shrugged, but she didn’t like dismissing it. The temptation to give in and tell him how much she’d loved it was too great. He was wearing down her resolve, and she had to put a stop to it. “It was hours ago. I hardly even remember it.”

  “Then let me refresh your memory.”

  He clutched her neck and lowered his lips to hers. His mouth was warm and soft. Giving. Like Logan had an unlimited supply of affection and he was going to hand it out like candy. He dictated the pace—languid and dizzying, suggesting they deserved to take their time, and for the moment, she believed they did. Here they were, all alone, in this big empty house, all the time in the world. His mouth drifted to her cheek, his stubble scratching her nose, then he traveled to her jaw and kissed her neck. She kept her eyes closed, luxuriating in every heavenly press of his lips to hers, not wanting it to end.

  “Tell me you don’t feel anything,” he whispered into her ear.

  “I don’t feel anything.” She reasoned that she was merely following orders, but she’d actually become a fountain of fibs. She was surprised her nose wasn’t growing. The truth was that she was feeling everything right now. Her entire body was so alert she could probably stay awake for the next twenty-four hours.

  “You said it yourself earlier today. You’re a terrible liar.”

 
And you’re a ridiculously good kisser. “I know what I said. You don’t have to remind me.”

  Six

  The ride back to the hotel was long. And quiet. Part of Julia was glad she’d had the sense to lie to him and pull them back from the precipice before bodies slipped out of clothes. And her sense slipped out of her brain. The other part of her, the hormonal part, was downright annoyed. She’d been in the arms of an eager Logan and she’d said she felt nothing. She’d lied and denied herself sex, all in the same breath. They could’ve christened the brand-new sofa. Regret was starting to needle her.

  Focus on the baby. That was her key to keeping Logan where he belonged—in the strangest friend zone she could imagine. She had to keep her life in order for the sake of the baby. A child needed stability and normalcy. Allowing herself to be tangled up with yet another man who didn’t love her was a recipe for anything but what she wanted to give her baby.

  Logan pulled up in front of the hotel, and thankfully the press had kept their promise. They’d stayed away. Finally, Tracy could be happy.

  “Oh my God,” Julia blurted. “Tracy.”

  “What now?” Logan asked, turning off the ignition.

  “We can’t stay in different rooms. Everyone thinks we’re a couple. You saw the way that guy at the front desk looked at us when we checked in. He thought it was weird, and it was, because we stayed in the same room last time. If anyone is likely to tip off the press about something out of the ordinary, it’s the guy working the front desk.”

  The valet approached. They were about to lose what bit of privacy they had. Julia’s mind was whirring. She’d been psyching herself up for holding hands at the wedding reception and ignoring her feelings while doing it, not preparing for a roommate.

  “Pardon me if I find this weird coming from the person who just told me she didn’t feel anything when she kissed me.”

  “And I’m also the person worried about her sister’s wedding. The press comes back and I’m sunk. But I have no clue how we’re supposed to explain this to the people at the front desk.”

  He rubbed the side of his face as if he couldn’t possibly stand another minute of thinking about this. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come up with something.”

  Easy enough for Logan to say. Right now, Julia was worried about everything, especially the realization that she and Logan were about to share a room.

  Logan turned the keys over to the valet and they went inside. The man with the familiar face was again manning the front desk.

  “Yes. Hi,” Logan started, clearly stalling. So much for coming up with something. “I need to check out of my room. I had a cold when we arrived, and I didn’t want Ms. Keys to get sick when she’s...”

  Julia kicked Logan’s foot. “He didn’t want me to get sick right before my sister’s wedding. It would be a disaster.”

  The desk clerk hesitated, looking back and forth between them, the moments ticking by at half speed. “Of course, Mr. Brandt. I’ll send a bellman up to your room to move your belongings for you.” He tapped away at his keyboard while Julia silently let out a sigh of relief.

  “No need for that. I’ll manage fine on my own.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.” The clerk swiped a room card. “And here’s your extra key.” The look he gave them said that he was in no way fooled, but Julia figured this guy had probably seen it all at this point.

  They proceeded to the elevator. Today’s second kiss seemed even more ill-advised now that she and Logan would be staying in the same room. Why did everything with Logan have to exist on such a slippery slope? She’d dipped her toes into those warm, inviting waters, and now it felt like she was up to her waist in trouble.

  Logan went to collect his things while Julia quickly changed into pajama pants and a tank top. Apparently he was a light packer—he was opening her door minutes later, just as she was downing the second of the chocolates the maid had left on the pillows. She put her hands behind her back and crumpled the wrapper. Logan didn’t need to know she wasn’t just eating for two, she was eating chocolate for two.

  “Hey, roomie,” he quipped, flashing that beguiling smile of his and breezing into the room.

  “Roomie is right. Platonic roommates. I don’t want you getting any ideas.” She discreetly dropped the evidence of her clandestine candy-eating into the trash.

  “Getting ideas. You make me sound like a horny teenager. Don’t worry about me. You made it pretty clear where you stand when you told me you didn’t feel anything after our kiss.” He wheeled his roller bag next to the bureau. “Which was a little odd considering how much you were actually participating in it.”

  “I plead hormonal insanity.”

  He toted his garment bag to the closet. “Where exactly do you expect me to hang my suit? You have enough clothes in here for a week.”

  “Oh, please. You’re exaggerating.” She walked over and began sliding hangers across the rod, cramming her clothes together. She took his suit from him and squeezed it in at the end.

  “If it gets wrinkled, you’re ironing it.”

  “Whatever it takes to appease you, Mr. Brandt.” She turned and he was right there, peering down at her breasts. “You have got to stop staring at my chest.”

  “I’m sorry, but when it’s just the two of us, it’s really hard not to look.” A sly grin crossed his face, and he looped his finger in the direction of her chest. “They’re spectacular. And it’s hard not to think about the reason why they look like that. It’s surprisingly sexy.”

  Julia’s head was swimming. She hadn’t been prepared for that. Did he really feel that way? Pregnancy had made her feel anything but sexy—tired and starving most of the time, although she had to admit that being around Logan had a way of helping her find her more alluring side. “Thank you. I just wish they didn’t hurt so much.”

  “Hurt?” Logan traipsed across to the other side of his room and kicked off his shoes.

  “Yes. They’re sore. You blow more air into a balloon, it stretches. Same principle.”

  “You paint a lovely picture.” He turned and began unbuttoning his pants. “You’re totally taking the fun out of the idea of you with larger breasts, though.”

  Before she knew what was happening, he’d shucked his jeans and was folding them neatly. In black boxer briefs that showed off his long, lean legs, he was doing far too efficient a job of helping her feel sexy. Probably because she couldn’t have him. He was forbidden fruit, the shiny apple she wasn’t allowed to take a bite out of, no matter how tempting he was, all because she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. And now Mr. Temptation was unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Will you please go change in the bathroom?” she sputtered, clamping her eyes shut out of self-preservation.

  “You can’t be serious. I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late and I’m wiped out. Drama makes me tired.”

  “So put on your pajamas already.”

  “These are my pajamas.”

  “You can’t just sleep in your boxers. You have to put on something else.” Every breath out of her was coming way too fast. Her heart was hammering.

  “I didn’t pack anything else. And it’s not like you haven’t seen me in way less than this.”

  Holy crap. His voice was so close. Much closer than it had been a moment ago. She sensed him moving closer. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body. She was too scared to open her eyes. She already knew how amazing he looked half-naked.

  “If you aren’t nice, I’ll just sleep in the nude.”

  She wrestled with the threat—be mean and have him take his clothes off. Dangerous, but not the worst deal in the world. “Fine. I’ll be nice.”

  “Then open your eyes. I promise you’ll live through it.”

  Yeah, right. She opened her eyes all right, but just
as quickly whipped around to avoid the sight of him. That meant she was now confronted with the image of a king-size expanse of luxury linens atop what she already knew was a very comfortable mattress.

  Guilt ate at her, about a lot of things—bogarting the chocolate, not telling him the truth about the kiss and knowing she’d be in the bed while Logan was stuck on the couch. “I got the extra blanket out of the closet for you. You can take one of my pillows.”

  “What are you talking about? There are plenty of blankets.” Logan pulled back the duvet, slipping under the covers. Well, his legs were blanketed. His stomach and chest weren’t. No, those parts of him were too busy building their torment in her body. Judging by the way her body temperature was spiking, they’d built an entire torment city. He patted her side of the bed. “Doesn’t the mom-to-be need to get some rest?”

  “Oh, no. You’re sleeping on the couch.”

  “No way. Have you seen how short that thing is? It wouldn’t fit a guy who’s six feet tall, and we both know I’m a lot taller than that.”

  This was not happening. She could see it now—in bed with Logan, fast asleep, somebody’s hand wanders, somebody starts spooning, one body part finds another body part and the next thing they know, the baby-making parade is under way again. “Fine. Then I’ll sleep on it.”

  He bolted upright in bed. “I’m not letting a pregnant woman sleep on that couch. Stop being ridiculous. We’re capable of staying in the same bed and things not turning to...you know. Sex.”

  “Why would you think that? We’ve never slept in the same bed without it turning to sex. Ever.”

  “That can’t be right.”

  She nodded and dared to step closer to the bed, even though she was being dogged by memories of the last time they were sharing a room in this hotel. Everything she saw—the bedside tables, the lamps and of course half-naked Logan—brought her back to that magical weekend. “Think about it. Never. Ever.”

  He reclined against the pillows, placing his hands behind his head. Good God, now it was like he was posing for the cover of a men’s fitness magazine. And she had to act as if she wasn’t fazed, even when her eyes were drawn to his well-defined chest, his abs, that narrow trail of dark hair beneath his belly button. Deep down, she was anything but ambivalent—she wanted to read every square inch of his body like she was studying braille. Deep breaths. Enjoy the view. You’re fine.