by Sally Falcon
Tory almost choked on her second bite of cake. If only Logan could hear his mother tonight. Maybe she was dreaming, but if she was, she didn’t want to wake up until Enid finished what she was saying. This was better than any of T.L.’s performances.
“Tory, have I made an absolute fool of myself by coming here?”
The vulnerable look on the older woman’s face was something that Tory would remember for the rest of her life. “No, Enid. I’m very flattered that you think I would be good enough for your son.”
“You’re probably better than he deserves,” his mother said dryly, relaxing under Tory’s smile. “What I really want is his happiness. Much as I hate to admit it, my brother-in-law was right to get Logan out of Boston for a new perspective. I’m sure his behavior this afternoon was a reaction to my being here. I can’t believe that he’s resisted the charm of your family. There’s something about you Planchets that puts a spell on people. T.L. is a true original.”
“You aren’t the first person to say that,” Tory agreed, wondering about the effect that a Herrington seemed to have on a certain member of her family. Her life had been utter chaos since Logan set foot in Arkansas.
“I don’t think I’ll mention this little chat to Logan. What do you think?” Enid asked with a calculated look.
“That might be a good idea,” Tory agreed, careful not to give away her feelings on the matter. So far, she’d managed to stay fairly neutral. “Would you like some more tea?”
“No, I think I’ve imposed on you long enough tonight. I have a few things to think over, mostly getting up enough courage to discuss my change of heart about Arkansas with Logan.”
“You could start by asking him about the night we took my small niece and nephew to a Disney movie,” Tory suggested as she walked her guest to the door. Enid’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline at the comment. “I think he’s still trying to get the grape drink and licorice stains out of his clothes.”
Enid couldn’t contain her laughter at Tory’s smug smile. She leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Victoria Planchet, you are a gem.”
Tory leaned back against the door after Enid left, hugging her arms tightly around her waist. Enid’s visit had rekindled the tiny spark of hope once more. Was she crazy to think that they might have a future together after all?
Yes, she was going to take the chance. She’d been acting like a fool, a coward, creating more problems than were necessary just to remain independent. How valuable was her independence, if she didn’t have the man she loved? Logan was arrogant and demanding, but so was she. Hadn’t she been playing the autocrat herself during the last few weeks—demanding that he pass her tests, conform to her rules? He’d met every challenge and passed with flying colors.
Enid’s apology echoed in Tory’s mind. She realized she was a victim of her own snap judgments, just as Abby had implied the day of the Ferguson party. She’d fought her attraction to Logan without really knowing why. Deep inside she knew that he would change her life, ask for sacrifices that she hadn’t been willing to make. She hadn’t been willing to compromise, selfishly wanting everything to be on her terms.
Well, if Enid had enough courage to come and apologize to a relative stranger, she could face Logan and demand to know what type of relationship he wanted. Would he be willing to listen after the tests she put him through? She wasn’t sure, but she had to try. She’d show him that southerners didn’t always procrastinate. This lady could recognize a problem and take care of it.
Her hand was on the doorknob before she remembered that Logan wasn’t home. She almost screamed in frustration. He’d gone out with Trevor tonight. She’d passed them at the gate earlier. It served her right, she decided, giving the door an impatient kick to relieve her frustration. After all the time she’d wasted, she would have to wait until tomorrow.
“Damn,” Logan muttered and slammed the receiver down. The sound of plastic hitting metal echoed around the kitchen. Tory was right, he wasn’t a morning person. But why didn’t she have more than one telephone line at the store? This was the same mess he’d gone through before going to Texas. The woman just didn’t stay in one place long enough.
“Is there a problem, son?”
He hadn’t heard T.L. come into the kitchen while he was trying to get through to Bill of Fare. “That’s the third time I’ve been cut off.”
“An important call?”
Logan wasn’t fooled by T.L.’s angelic look. He decided he wouldn’t make the older man drag the information out of him. “I was trying to call your daughter. So far, she hasn’t been there, or another call has come in and I get cut off. She needs more than one line.”
“She’s having another line installed next week. There wasn’t time before the opening to get it set up,” T.L. explained, leaning against the counter. He fished in his pocket for a minute and pulled out a small pearl handled knife. After he opened the blade, he began cleaning his fingernails, making it look perfectly normal while dressed in a suit. “Are you thinking about marrying my little girl?”
Logan watched the older man for a minute, wondering if he really wanted to get mixed up with this family for life. If he’d learned anything in Arkansas, it was how to play the Planchet game. Pulling out a chair from the table next to him, he turned it around and straddled it. He rested his arms along the back as he watched T.L.
“Trevor does a much better job of intimidation with a steak knife.”
The older man looked, up grinning from ear to ear. “I know, but my number is coming up in the betting pool.”
“You’re betting on this? Of course, you are. Why did I bother to ask?” Logan couldn’t help but laugh at the entire situation. “Who’s in the pool?”
“Let’s see,” he pretended to consider the matter, silently counting on his fingers. “There’s Trevor, Curtiss—Sanders refused because it wasn’t dignified—Arnette, my secretary, my driver, and your mother kicked in this morning. And if Tory ever finds out about this, we’re all dead meat.”
“My mother?” He couldn’t believe it. Apparently the Planchet magic had worked overtime. He was sure that his mother had come to Arkansas to drag him home, but she hadn’t said a word about it to him. In fact, she hadn’t said very much to him since he’d returned from Texas. This morning she’d gone off with Arnette on some excursion.
“Enid doesn’t have much faith in you. She says it’s going to take another two weeks for you to get your act together.”
“Who has today?” Damned if he was going to let his friends and relatives make money on his lack of progress.
T.L. pulled a sheet of paper out of his vest pocket and ran his finger down the list. “Nobody. I’m betting on Wednesday.”
“Don’t count on it,” Logan grunted and got to his feet.
“Hey, where are you going?” T.L. called after him as he headed for the back door.
“I think I’ll go order something from Bill of Fare. I’ve developed quite an appetite,” he answered, pushing the screen door open with the palm of his hand.
“Logan.”
There was something in T.L.’s voice that made him stop at the top of the steps.
“Remember one thing when you’re dealing with Tory. She’s used to getting her own way. She’s an independent little soul, but she can be reasoned with on occasion.”
Logan nodded his understanding and bounded down the steps. T.L. knew his daughter well. He was more than willing to reason with Tory, find some sort of compromise, if he could just get the woman to stand still long enough to talk to her.
He drove to Park Plaza Mall and found a parking space in record time. If she wasn’t at the shop now, she’d be back soon, and he’d be waiting for her. Tory Planchet was going to marry him, if he had to carry her down the aisle kicking and screaming. Now all he had to do was find out where her shop was in the three-level glass structure.
By the time he found the stain-glassed entrance to Bill of Fare, Logan had slowed his pace. His determinati
on was modified by common sense. Every time he pushed too hard, Tory lost her temper. If he’d learned anything over the past few weeks, he’d learned that the lady didn’t like to be told what to do. She’d also tried to teach him how to do things the southern way. And that was probably going to be her downfall.
The small dining area of the shop was filled with people eating lunch, and there was a line at the marble counter across the back. The only familiar face he saw was Abby Bush. When he caught her eyes, she waved at him and pointed in the back, behind the wooden, swinging doors. But she shook her head at his gesture to go back. A minute later Tory backed out the door with two food-laden rattan baskets in her hands.
He tried to intercept her as she took the basket to a table along the side wall, but he couldn’t get around the people waiting in line before she went back in the kitchen.
“Hey, mister, take a number.”
Without bothering to answer the man, Logan worked his way to the back of the shop. Tory would have to come out again. She did, five minutes later, walking right past him. He leaned against the counter, waiting for her come back, but enjoying watching her at work. Typically, she took time to talk to her customers.
He came to a decision by the time she came back.
“Excuse me, ma’am, I’m from the health department,” he murmured so only she could hear him.
Tory stopped abruptly, blinking up at him in surprise. “Logan, what are you doing here?”
“I wasn’t having any luck on the phone, so I decided to really reach out and touch someone.” He matched his words by running his finger down her cheek. The expression on her face was a mixture of confusion and anticipation that gave him the courage for what he was about to do. “Apparently I came at a bad time.”
“Tory, it’s the laundry on the phone,” Abby called from behind them, holding up the telephone.
“I can’t really talk right now,” Tory started to explain, seeming reluctant to leave him. He stopped her by placing his finger against her lips.
“That’s all right. I just came over to tell you something I forgot to mention before I went to Texas. I love you.” He smiled in satisfaction. For once, he’d managed to surprise a Planchet. “Are you going to stop running away now?”
“Tory, if you don’t answer him in about five minutes, I’m quitting,” Abby said impatiently from behind the counter. “You’ll never be able to handle this crowd with only two people.”
“Go away, Abby,” Tory and Logan ordered together, but Tory didn’t wait for her friend to leave. A smile lit up her face. “I love you, Logan.”
“Good, I’ll see you at home tonight,” he returned, taking time to give her a quick kiss before walking out of the shop, whistling under his breath. He carried the stunned look on Tory’s face with him as he executed the rest of his plan. She might not know it, but she was going to be given the full southern treatment.
Tory watched him walk out the door and wondered if she’d dreamed the whole episode. The silly grin on Abby’s face seemed to verify that it had happened. She didn’t have to worry for very long. If it was a dream, it was still going on.
Fifteen minutes later a package was delivered to Ms. Planchet from Mr. Herrington. Inside was a filigreed, heart-shaped locket purchased at the jewelry store three doors away from Bill of Fare. She soon discovered exactly how Logan spent his afternoon, working his way through the stores at the mall.
The Godiva chocolate roses came an hour after the necklace. At three o’clock she received a porcelain music box that was covered with hearts and cupids. By four o’clock, she didn’t know what to expect, certainly not diamond earrings. He outdid himself at five, leaving Abby speechless and wiping the fatuous smile off her face that had been driving Tory crazy all afternoon.
With one look at the label, she tried to open the box in the privacy of her office, but Abby wouldn’t be put off. Neither woman had seen anything as exquisite as the mostly lace and satin apricot colored teddy.
She was still a little dazed by the whole afternoon as she walked toward the cottage at six o’clock. Logan loved her, but where was he? The packages were accompanied by notes that simply said, “With love, Logan.” The only thing she could think to do was come back to the cottage. His gifts had arrived on the hour, was he planning something else now?
Still caught up in her thoughts, Tory almost tripped over the shoe that was just inside the front door. She didn’t remember leaving anything in the hallway. Taking a closer look, she realized that it was a man’s shoe, and it belonged to someone she knew. Carefully putting her packages on the hall stand, she closed the door and turned on the light. The shoe was just the beginning.
Its mate was a few feet away, next to a pair of dark socks. Following the trail, she found a navy blue shirt at the end of the hall. A pair of jeans was lying just inside her bedroom door. His cotton briefs were between the door and the bed. Tory decided she liked this gift better than any of the others.
“Hi, have a nice day at work?” Logan asked from where he reclined on the bed with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable than your catering uniform and join me?”
Leaning against the door jamb, she matched his lazy smile. “Did you have something specific in mind?”
“I’m kind of partial to apricot colored lace. It’s a taste I’ve developed since coming to Arkansas,” he answered, linking his fingers behind his head.
She wasn’t sure how long she could continue to play the game. He looked absolutely wonderful. “I think I have just the thing. Any other suggestions?”
“A friend of mine’s been teaching me about relaxing and relieving stress. I think you might want to take a nice, hot shower while I open the champagne.” He inclined his head toward the nightstand where a magnum rested in a silver bucket.
“Not a bad idea, I’ll be right back.” She hurried back to the hall to retrieve her gifts, fumbling with her tie and the buttons on her vest as she went. Logan hadn’t moved when she got back to the bedroom.
“Do you need any help?” he asked hopefully, watching with interest as she took off the top layer of her clothes. He groaned in disappointment when she stopped at her slip.
“Have the champagne ready in about ten minutes.”
She was out of the shower in three minutes, but took time to freshen her makeup. The teddy fit her perfectly, slipping luxuriantly over her flushed skin. The man was incredible. She checked her appearance in the mirror as she dabbed jasmine scent at her elbows and knees. The necklace and earrings were the perfect accents.
She opened the door with a flourish, but the sight of Logan down on one knee stopped her on the threshold. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t laugh at me, woman. I’m trying to do this right,” he said with a show of dignity, grabbing at the towel that was trying to obey the law of gravity. “Come over here, so I can get this done in the proper southern style.”
She moved toward him, her smile disappearing as she stopped in front of him. Butterflies were careening around her stomach. Suddenly she felt very nervous. He took her left hand in his and raised it to his lips.
“Victoria Camille Planchet, I humbly request your hand in marriage. This ring is a symbol of my undying love and devotion.” His voice was a rough whisper of sound as he slipped a sapphire ring on her finger. “I need you in my life to temper my horrible Yankee ways and keep me from turning back into a preppie android.”
“Will you marry me? I promise to let you talk when we’re out in public together, and you can wear shoes when you’re pregnant. But I can’t promise that I’ll let you out of my sight for a minute until we’ve been married for two or three years, maybe longer.”
Tory blinked back the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks in spite of his nonsense. She couldn’t stand the pleading look in his eyes as he waited for her answer, clutching his towel with his right hand. Kneeling in front of him on the floor, she cupped his face in her palms. She lea
ned into his chest as she answered him with a kiss, sighing against his parted lips as his arms closed around her.
Reluctantly she pulled back, searching his face, trying to memorize his expression at that moment. “Although the thought of corrupting a Yankee for a lifetime is tempting, I’ll only accept on one condition,” she said softly, trailing a kiss over his chin. Tracing her lips over his jaw, she worked her way slowly back to the corner of his mouth. She could feel the beginning of his smile beneath her lips as he remembered their bargaining at Milt and Myrna’s.
“What’s the condition?”
Tilting her head back, she feathered her fingers through his hair. He had a wary look in his eyes, but his hands were moving with wicked intent over her bare back. “Don’t ever act that humble again. It just doesn’t suit you. Arrogance in some men is incredibly sexy, occasionally.”
“Do you know that you are probably the most contradictory woman in the entire world?” he challenged, but kept her from answering with a searing kiss. It was a pledge of his love, a promise of a beautiful, fulfilling life.
“Hey, you’re crying.” Logan pulled back in surprise, tracing his finger down her damp cheek. “What is it, love?”
“I’ve just realized that I almost lost you by being so stubborn,” she managed, trying to sniff delicately. “All my fine speeches about marriage making women idiots. I wasn’t doing a very good job being single.”
“Neither of us were at our best, love. We just didn’t know that we’d both come out winners if we’d just compromise,” he said comfortingly, dabbing at her tears with the end of his towel. “We were both used to getting our own way all the time.”
