“For you, sir?” the waiter asks.
“Whatever this beautiful girl just ordered, you can double it.”
“Flexible eater, I like that,” she says when the waiter walks off.
“Sure, I guess…that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the finer delicacies.” I dip my head but keep my eyes on her, no hint of a grin because I’m dead serious.
Her cheeks flush a rosy shade, and I hope it’s not from being shy or embarrassed because I plan on bringing that heat to her skin for the rest of the night.
“Well, I’m not sure it’s a delicacy, but I love Mexican food.”
Since she chose to ignore my innuendo, I decide to go along at her pace. I stick to small talk for a bit and then dive in to some personal questions. “So…tell me about your friends.”
Her mouth purses and twitches to the side as she grabs a chip and eats it, the chewing conveniently giving her time.
“You do have friends, don’t you? Maybe a BFF?”
She lifts her glass and tilts back a large swallow. “I guess I have to admit that the closest thing I have to a BFF…besides you”—she grins—“is Lou.” She slips two of her fingers through her hair and pulls a thick piece forward. “Sad, huh?”
“Not at all. Lou’s awesome. I’m pretty close with my gramps.”
“Age is just a number, right?”
“We’ll keep telling ourselves that.”
We clink glasses as if we are toasting our mutual pathetic social lives.
“I was never the BFF type anyway,” she says. “Then I did some traveling and work kept me so busy.”
“Hey you don’t have to explain to me. So, what kind of travel did you do?”
She pauses and plays with the stem of her drink, and I just want to tangle my fingers through hers. “I took a couple years off to work as a traveling nurse.”
“That’s amazing.” I shouldn’t be surprised she’s even more interesting than I knew. “And, what kinds of places did you—”
“Would you two like another margarita?”
We both nod and laugh like it’s an obvious answer.
“My pleasure. And your food should be out shortly.”
I finish off my drink, ready for the next one, but aware I better watch how much this girl drinks. I want her free to make decisions later tonight. The mariachis start up, and Mollie glances across the restaurant in their direction, exposing a delicate section of her neck. My gaze goes right to it and travels down her collarbone to the slight bit of cleavage showing in her V-neck sweater. I can almost feel my lips grazing across her heated skin. I reach over and cup the back of her elbow, bringing her attention back to me. Her light gray eyes sparkle at me, and when she blinks, I’m certain she’s reading my mind.
I’m just about to pick up our conversation when she jumps in.
“So, do you have any close friends?”
I should have seen the question coming. Maybe I could have braced for the knife piercing through my gut. I decide to ease into it. “Having three brothers was sort of like built-in friends. But I left home after high school so there wasn’t much chance to make friends.” I pause when I feel a sting behind my eyes. A burning that not only represents a hole in my heart but makes me feel like a coward.
“Are you okay?”
I feel her hand on my arm and I instantly place mine over hers. I refocus and find her eyes, unaware I’d drifted away for a moment. “Yeah, sorry. I did have… They’re gone, though. Most of them anyway.” The predictable guilt washes over me thinking of Jennings.
The waiter brings our new drinks, and we both just watch him in silence. When he leaves, Mollie pushes hers aside and leans over. “Did you want to tell me about them?”
I take a deep breath, knowing this could be a defining moment for us. She wants to go slow, to get to know each other. She clearly knows I have baggage. I want more than anything to get over these hurdles so we can be together, which is why I showed her my leg. That was me, being vulnerable and opening up. But this…feels so much harder.
“I don’t want to pressure you, Logan—”
“You’re not. Truth is I let my friends down. I haven’t been true to them.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve told you I can’t remember…that I don’t want to remember what happened to me. But in doing so I also don’t let myself think about my last moments with my friends who didn’t make it.”
Her eyes glass over. She blinks and widens them. “I’m sure your friends cared about you as much as you them. They wouldn’t want you to suffer.”
I breathe in deeply, trying to cleanse out the bad air. “Someday I might not have a choice. It might all come back to me.”
Mollie seems even more shaken, and I suddenly feel bad for taking a dark turn on our evening. She picks her drink up and holds it to her lips. “How about you tell me one pleasant memory of you with your friends?”
Grateful for the mood change, I nod and she sips. And in no time a memory pops to the surface and I chuckle. “I met Morgan first. Everyone called him Mo. And when we started hanging with Vin, the three of us were inseparable. Like the three musketeers. But one day Sarge started calling us the stooges.”
“’Cause of Mo?”
“Yeah. But those dudes were the opposite of stooges. Class act men.”
“Like you.” She grabs my hand and squeezes. “King of the stooges.” As she’s laughing, I pull her closer, slide my other hand behind her neck, and cover her mouth with mine so quickly hers is still open from her gasp. The kiss is hard but I keep it short and pull back only slightly so my lips are still floating in front of hers when I say, “Nya, ah, ah.”
“I’m going to miss you,” she says, turning our silliness serious.
I pull back, my chest tight. “Yeah, me too.” I don’t want to make her feel worse so I don’t say what else I’m thinking. I can’t imagine spending Christmas without her.
“I know the holidays are going to be hard for you.” Her lips pull to a thin seam. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen my folks…”
I mirror her expression. “It’s okay.” But it’s not. And in this moment, I realize how much I’ve come to rely on her. Not only with the kids, but emotionally. But I refuse to let this night become a downer. “I’ll just have to suffer through it.” I rub my jaw like I’m thinking when really I can’t let myself. “I’ll get by without my somebody, somehow.” I wink and move my thumb over the top of her hand, but I regret my words. I regret not saying what’s in my heart because she’s not just my somebody. She’s quickly transforming into my everything. And—crap—I now realize my revelation caused me to miss part of what she was saying.
“…and it’s only a couple weeks and I’ll be home right after Christmas.”
The food comes and we eat and talk and flirt and touch and stare. Hot damn do we stare. Food messy, lettuce falling out of tacos, sauce dripping, and all the while our eyes are getting it on something fierce. I’ll call this act one and pray act two involves all the other body parts in Mollie’s bed.
Chapter 20
Mollie
“Stop staring at my ass.” I glance over my shoulder and narrow my eyes at Logan.
His head shoots up as he trails me to my front door. “You don’t know.”
“Then why do you keep walking behind me?”
“I’m being a gentleman.”
I reach my front door and turn to catch a devilish grin on his face. I actually love that he was staring at my ass, and that face—I could get used to staring at it. “Of course, you were.”
He stops two steps from me. “Either way, it’s a compliment, right?”
I try to keep a straight face so he won’t think he’s right, but I fail. So, I look down and filter through my purse like I’m looking for my keys. Lame move.
He closes the distances between us so his clothes brush my arm and his scent lingers under my nose. “Smile bigger,” he says softly.
“What? Stop.” I pull my k
eys out and feign ignorance.
“C’mon, I wanna see it.”
Of course, my grin betrays me and grows wider because I know exactly what he wants.
He rubs his thumb in the tiny groove on my cheek, and I lift my gaze to meet his. Smoldering. When he replaces his thumb with his lips, embers blaze across my skin and then swirl around my belly. Butterflies take flight from the pit of my stomach as he drags his lips over to my ear. “You know one of my biggest fears?”
I shake my head but don’t even attempt to move away.
“Another man touching my dimple. Let alone even looking at it.”
I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had a man claim my dimple before. But hearing the words and the passion behind them have turned my legs to jelly. I turn my head so my lips are even with his, wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth to mine.
Our kiss starts slow, sensual, and then grows needy. The mere brush of his tongue against mine causes my pulse to quicken, and my body arches into him. He’s holding me firmly around my lower back, and we shuffle backward until we’re leaning against the door. He pulls away from the kiss for only a moment, dragging in a breath, and I do the same. Then he brings his lips right back to mine. My keys are still in my grasp, and I’m surprised I have the fortitude to keep them from stabbing him in the neck. Our kiss continues like a teasing dance, him leading at a more frantic pace now. I never want to stop, and yet I know the keys in my hand could mean having so much more.
Then, my phone rings in my purse, and we both ignore it like it doesn’t exist. His lips move to my cheek and brush over the spot he’s claimed, and just knowing how he feels about it makes my head spin. When he reaches my neck, I moan at the same time my phone pings with a text. I want to feel his hair so badly so I run over his soft, thick waves with my one free hand. My phone pings yet again, and Logan pulls back.
“You better check that.”
Our breathing is so heavy someone walking by would think we ran here. I pull my phone out—which continues to ping—and shake my head, trying to decide if I should laugh or scream. I have a missed call from Lou and several texts. I flash my screen at Logan.
Lou: I’m at your place and I hear noises.
Lou: Someone’s on the porch but I’m afraid to look.
Lou: Rocky is no help. He’s just lying here.
He shrugs. “Guess we better get in there.”
With my libido now in check, I shout at the door before I put my key in. “Lou, it’s us.”
Lou is sitting on the couch with Rocky’s paws draped across her lap and her phone in hand. “Thank God.”
“Sorry we scared you,” Logan says.
“Lou, what are you doing here?”
“I brought the suitcase you wanted to borrow.” She gestures to the bag that is off to the side. “And I made you two some brownies for dessert…low sugar.” She smiles and gestures to the coffee table. “It was no trouble at all. Then Bud and I started chatting and I got distracted.”
The thought of her and Logan’s gramps getting close warms my insides. Selfishly, I hope it takes the pressure off me to be such a big part of her life.
Logan and I exchange glances, and I’m sure he’s wondering if he should go or she should. Then he takes a seat on the couch next to her. “I’m really glad you and Gramps have hit it off. I’ve been trying to get him a cell phone for months.”
While they make small talk, I excuse myself to the kitchen where I pull one of my mini kits from the drawer and test my levels using the app on my phone. I was pretty good at dinner but I’m just making sure in case I decide to have a taste of brownies or some wine. It’s so much a part of my routine that my mind wanders and sadness comes over me. As much I was anticipating tonight and what might happen, I tried to keep the fact that I’m leaving away from my mind. But suddenly, I’m already missing Logan and I haven’t even left yet. More than anything, I want to make tonight special, give him something to think about while I’m gone.
I finish my business and collect some glasses, a bottle of wine I already had opened, and some napkins. When I return to the living room, the two are laughing like besties, sitting right next to each other and staring at Lou’s phone.
“Louise Ann Garner, are you looking at the naughty videos again?”
Her eyes widen and she sits up straighter. “I told you that was an accident. I was just showing Logan the pictures of Rocky wearing the shirt I made him.”
“Okay. I wouldn’t want you to corrupt Logan’s innocent eyes.” I set the bottle and glasses on the coffee table and sit on the couch next to him.
Logan doesn’t pull his attention from Lou, which is nice but at the same time, I want it on me. I lean back against the cushions while Lou continues to scroll through pictures and Logan appears completely enthralled. How has this senior citizen hijacked my date? Just when I’m about to lean forward and douse my neglected feelings with chocolate or booze, I feel his hand slide onto my thigh. Without looking from Lou, he finds my hand and laces his fingers with mine, and it’s all I need to bring me back to my happy place. Of course, he’s being polite to Lou, and now he’s showing me why.
“Well,” she finally says and pops up from the couch. “You two don’t need me hanging around. I better take off. Skedaddle. Scram. Split. Get the hell out of do—”
“Bye, Lou,” I say and stand along with Logan.
When she shuts the door behind her, something in the air shifts and I feel unsure. Nervous. I pick up the brownie pan like some housewife on crack and practically shove it at Logan. “Dessert?”
He chuckles. “I’m good, thanks.”
I freeze for a moment and then blink a few times in case he didn’t notice my awkwardness already. “I’ll just take this to the fridge. Have a seat.”
I rush off, stick the pan in the fridge, and take a moment to get a glass of water. Everything was so natural and right on the porch, and now it’s like I’m starting over with time to think and doubt. I can’t play games with Logan, but I’m also not sure if he’s strong enough to take this all the way. He doesn’t really understand what being together could mean, and I’m still hesitant the whole thing could be a disaster, and I’ll lose not just him, but all of them. I shake my head at myself. My own selfishness. If I truly care about him, then being in limbo like this isn’t best for him either.
I set the water down and take a deep breath, planning to go in there and lay it all out. Be honest about everything I’m thinking and feeling. He’s strong. And he deserves honesty.
Before I can turn around, I feel him at my back and a chill creeps up my neck. His hands grip my arms and his hard chest pressing against my shoulders feels like the safest place on Earth. He leans his head down and puts his lips at my ear. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”
My heart skips a beat and then thrums wildly. There’s no way out of visiting my parents at this point. “Me too. But we still have a little time together. Thanksgiv—” I scoff when I realize my assumption.
“Of course, I want to spend Thanksgiving with you.”
I grin, though he can’t see it. “I have to admit…it will be tough being away.”
He runs his hands down my arms before slipping one around my middle. “How long?”
“I’ll probably be there a couple weeks, home a little after Christmas maybe.”
I try not to flinch when his hand slides beneath the hem of my sweater and skates across my bare skin. “I can wait, Mollie. If that’s what you want.”
I don’t want to wait, but I can’t get any words out.
“You said we should go slow. Get to know each other. Be open.” He brushes my hair to the side, exposing my neck. “I may not know everything about you, Mollie. But I know you. I know your heart and your will and your determination…and your vulnerability.” He places soft kisses at the top of my shoulder, searing my skin. In between kisses, his voice is velvet. “I’m not sure how it happened, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
He wastes no time joining our mouths and stealing my breath with his warmth. A warmth that quickly turns to fire as we taste each other with soft slow nudges and nips.
Dizzy with need, I pull back to look in his eyes, breathing heavily. His hand cups my chin, keeping my face, my lips, close to his. “I might have some broken pieces that aren’t fully repaired…and I might have some blank spaces I can’t remember…but the rest is all yours.” He kisses me once, gently. “If you’ll have me.”
“You’re the best man I know, Logan.” I spin in his arms to face him. To feel more of his body. To get as close as possible. His hungry lips devour mine in a kiss that is…everything. Not just a prelude, but a promise. I can feel it all the way to my toes and back up. A kiss so powerful, the force of it is physically moving us, our feet shuffling us out of the kitchen as we keep our lips connected.
He spins us and my back lands against the wall leading to the hallway. Logan groans into my mouth as he lifts one of my thighs and pulls it up against his hip. When I feel myself being lifted off the ground I pull back. “Your leg…”
“How much do you weigh?” He hikes my skirt up and reaches under both butt cheeks to lift me against him.
“One twenty.” With my arms around his shoulders, I wrap my legs around his waist as he pulls me up, my back coming off the wall.
He stumbles. “One twenty! You sure?”
My heart skips a beat. “Okay, one twenty-five.”
He quickly recovers his footing and laughs before kissing me again and pressing my shoulders back into the wall.
“You jerk,” I say against his mouth. Logan holds me there and kisses me like I’m light as a feather, and he has all the time in the world. He grinds against me as our mouths move together like we’d been rehearsing for this very dance our whole lives. And in this moment, I know it’s right. We are right.
As much as I’m swept up into his kisses, I’m still aware that my arms are clinging to his shoulders when what I really want is to set them free. Feeling all his hard ridges and muscles pressing against me beneath his clothes is so sensual, so teasing; I’m not sure how much longer before I start tearing every stitch from his body. “Take me to my room?” I whisper into his mouth.
Building Bridges (Bridges Brothers Book 1) Page 17
