Bacon and coffee.
The two aromas I smell when I first wake up the next morning. I turn over, assuming I’d find Logan still sleeping behind me. I didn't expect him to be awake so early in the morning after coming home as late as he did.
I slide my arms into my robe and quietly walk down the stairs. It’s barely sunrise but the morning rays are beaming in bright through our windows. Logan’s opened all the curtains, undoing my latest ritual. I haven’t trusted the night and the best solution I had was to block it out, pulling the curtains as tight as I could.
When I make it to the kitchen, Logan’s standing in front of the island, a coffee cup in his hand. He’s dressed only in his sweatpants, the hem resting just above his sculpted waist. His muscles curve along his torso, the ends of his growing hair resting on his shoulders. I’ve barely seen him with it down considering he works in the food industry and always has it tied back.
He doesn’t smile when he sees me. Instead, there’s a softness in his gaze, drawing me closer. His smooth lips relax, opening just enough to draw in a breath. It feels like forever since I’ve felt those lips pressed against mine.
He leans against the counter, pressing his palms on the edge. His muscles flex under the pressure. “Hey,” he says.
His voice is just as soft as his eyes. I stand on the other side of the island, grasping at the ends of the sleeves of my robe, balling them into my hands. “Hey.”
“I made breakfast.” He glances over his shoulder to the stove before turning back around to face me. “I’m making eggs benedict.”
My favorite breakfast.
I sigh, tilting my head to the side. “Thank you.” I grab my coffee and slide onto the barstool. “You didn’t have to do this.” I look past Logan to the spread he already has laid out.
“I didn’t,” he answers. “But I wanted to.”
A spark flickers inside my chest. Much like the feeling of when you first light a sparkler and the flame transforms into sparks. It isn’t powerful enough to reassure me, but enough to remind me that a small piece of the Logan I married remained.
I watch as Logan turns around, whisking the hollandaise sauce he’s already started making. The ridges of his muscles twist and turn with every rotation and the ridges expand and contract. Studying him reminds me of why were in this rut to begin with. We’re both keeping secrets from one another, refusing to be the first to make the first cut.
Once he’s finished cooking, he sits down on the stool beside me. We eat in silence for the first half of our meal. Every now and then, I catch him watching me, then I watch him. We’re playing a game of tag with our eyes, never our mouths.
I’m nearly finished eating when Logan finally decides to talk. “I figured we could finish the shed today.”
He rests his elbow on the counter, his fork pinched between his fingers. He halfway turns his stool causing his knees to press against my thigh. I can’t deny how it makes me feel. My thighs tense and the familiar heat builds between them. I miss this. I miss the way Logan makes me feel.
But I also hate it. I hate that even when we seem to not be on the same wavelength, he still finds a way to bring me back. At this point, I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing.
I swallow my bite and take a sip of coffee. “Only if you still want to.”
Logan looks down at his plate, setting his fork down. “Of course, I do, Len.”
I shrug. “Okay, I just wasn’t sure if you felt up to it.” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if my comment stung Logan just as much as it did me. I’m being passive aggressive, and I know it.
“Well, I do.” Logan’s voice is firm but not angry. His tone is more like he’s trying to convince me rather than be spiteful.
There’s an invisible wall between us. I can’t see it, but I can feel it.
“Okay,” I mutter against my cup, my lips sliding against the glazed porcelain.
We don’t speak another word to each other until we’re dressed and standing out in our back yard, in front of the four planks of wood nailed together in a perfect square.
“Do you mind helping me?” Logan asks. His hands are perched on his hips. He’s wearing a simple T-shirt, his hair now tied back like it usually is. He bends down, picking up one of the planks, laying it across the open square.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, bending down beside him.
“I just need you to hold this straight while I nail it in. This will be the floor.” He stands, brushing his hands off on the front of his jeans. He walks around the square, bending down to hammer in the first nail.
Once he has the first nail in, he grabs another.
“So,” he says, raising the hammer, looking across to me with hooded eyes. “Are you excited to start at the law firm?”
I swallow, breathing in the still dewy morning air. The grass is still slightly wet, but the sun has already begun to dry it out.
“I am. I’m kind of nervous though. This will be my first official job since I got my degree. What if I can’t keep up? This is a big law firm.” I don’t realize how nervous I am about starting this job at Sawyer and Sawyer until I say it out loud to Logan.
He shakes his head, quickly hammering in the last nail on his side. He walks back around the square, bending down and placing his hand over mine. His face is within inches of mine and I can practically taste the tangy orange scent coming from his mouth. I instinctively lick my lips.
“They wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t think you coulddo the job, Len.”
A hint of a smile grows on me, my cheeks warming at the motion. It feels like I haven’t smiled in forever.
“Here,” he says. His voice is low and heavy, hitting me straight in the chest. He gently moves my hand to the side, positioning the next nail.
“Thanks. What about you?” Logan turns to me, his eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“The fundraiser,” I continue. “Didn’t you say this one will be bigger than the last? Are you nervous?”
Logan shrugs. “A little, but I think after Max and I plan it out this week, it won’t be as daunting. I’m kind of excited, actually. The restaurant will get even more exposure. I can’t wait to see what this does for Bistro.”
I straighten my back, pressing my knees into the still-wet grass. Water seeps into my jeans. Logan just confirmed why I won’t tell him about the emails I’ve been receiving or the day the alarm was used.
Telling Logan now would destroy his dreams. A piece of my heart fractures, unwilling to allow myself to strip him of them.
“How was the last night training Natalie?” I pinch the tip of my tongue between my teeth. Why on earth did I bring her up?
Logan stops hammering, and stands, immediately turning around to grab another board. He sets it down beside the one we’d just secured. He shifts it, lining it up perfectly.
“It was fine.” He shrugs one shoulder and continues his process of nailing the wood down. “She’s ready to close on her own.” He hasn’t met my gaze, keeping his focus on his work.
“That’s good.” I nod, already standing to grab the next board.
“You know, I was thinking.”
“What?” I ask him, as I lay down the next few boards, hoping it will speed up the process now that we have a good rhythm and plan going.
Logan looks up from his work, smirking. “I was thinking maybe we could check out that gum wall Max told us about. The one below the market.”
I scrunch my face, shaking my head. “Ew, Logan. Really?” I laugh, the feeling rising in my throat.
Logan grins, obviously amused. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” I pull myself to a stand as he crosses the frame, standing in front of me. His gaze moves to my lips then to my eyes. “We can add our own pieces.”
“I don’t know. It’s literally an alleyway covered in old gum.”
“That’s the best part.” He grins.
I tilt my head, considering it. As with everything else, it feels like ages since Logan and
I have done something fun together. The last time we did was when we moved here, driving all the way across the country.
He raises his hand, brushing his fingertips across my cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you think?”
“I think Abby was supposed to come over later.” I’d nearly forgotten that Abby had texted me when I was getting dressed, asking if we could go hang out. I had yet to respond to her, unsure of where Logan and I stood. But Logan didn’t know that I hadn’t told Abby yes yet. I keep that part to myself.
“Ask her to reschedule. I think it’ll be good for us to get out of the house.” I agree with Logan. We needed a change of pace and I needed this time with him. Time to sift through the mess of thoughts floating inside my brain. Oddly enough, today was turning out to be one of the better days I’ve had lately.
Despite my worry about Logan having an affair, I find myself still caught up in his spell. I still love Logan and can’t deny myself the time to spend with him. We need this day to just be ourselves.
I grin, feeling the corners of my cheek grow sore. “Okay.”
“Good.” Logan beams. “Let’s finish up here then change before we head out.”
Two hours later, Logan and I are able to finish off the floor and put up two of the four walls. He had yet to get sheetrock for the walls, but the framing was in place, taking the shape of what would be our new shed. I didn’t know what we would use it for. Considering I’d taken the new job in Tacoma and had my own office space there, I’d thought of possibly using it as a second office.
After Logan and I both shower, I stand in my closet, deciding what to wear. I’m only wearing my bra and underwear, sifting through my outfits one by one. The sun was now covered in clouds, shielding the sun from being able to keep up the warm temperatures from earlier. I knew I wouldn’t be able to wear the shorts and T-shirt I’d planned on wearing. Instead, I needed something to ward off the cool breeze I’m sure was going to come near the water’s edge.
Logan walks into the closet, standing in the doorframe. He leans against it, already fully dressed. I swallow at the sight of him. He’s wearing a white T-shirt under his dark blue plaid shirt. His sleeves are rolled up, displaying his sculpted arms. He’s too handsome for his own good.
“I’m not sure a bra and lace panties are appropriate for visiting the gum wall.” His eyes scan me from head to toe, the corner of his mouth curling.
I roll my eyes followed by a smile. “You’re funny.” I turn back to my clothes. “I was trying to find something warm to wear.”
“Didn’t you have a maroon colored sweater or something?” Logan stands from the doorframe and walks farther into the closet, unraveling his crossed arms. “I mean, you look sexy in anything you wear, but that sweater...” He’s standing behind me now, his hot breath dancing across the back of my bare neck. Chills prickle down my spine and the heat swells between my legs. I press them together, standing on my toes.
Logan traces his fingertips down the back of my arm, and I find myself tilting my head to the side, closing my eyes. I close my mouth and swallow. “What about that sweater?”
“I loved the way it hugged this curve, right here.” He drags his finger down, tracing a line down to the side of my breast. His finger stops just below the edge of my bra, pressing against my skin. I gasp, reveling in his touch. Every touch of his skin meeting mine is like a new mend, healing my wounds from the inside out.
“Out of all the pieces of clothing to turn you on, it’s a sweater?” I giggle.
“I didn’t say it was the only one.” He bends his neck, ghosting his lips across my shoulder. The fingertips on his other hand graze the side of my hip, sliding to the front and moving lower, stopping at the top of my underwear.
I open my eyes, reaching up to find the sweater Logan is talking about. It’s the sweater Abby gave me back in Providence, the one I’d taken with me when we left in a hurry. “You mean this one?”
Logan looks up, his chin just above my shoulder. I’m sliding the hangers from left to right, going through each one, looking for the familiar maroon fabric. I come up empty.
“Huh,” I say. “It’s not in here.”
Logan takes a step back, rubbing his fingers across his chin. “Are you sure?”
I turn around and search the floor, wondering if I had maybe tossed it in the corner without noticing. “I don’t see it. I must have thrown it in the wash.”
“Oh,” Logan says, his eyes falling to mine. His chest stills, thoughts swirling in his eyes.
“It’s fine,” I offer. “I can find something else.”
Figuring I must have put Abby’s sweater in with my last load of laundry and forgotten, I spin back around and grab a green cardigan I had yet to wear. The tag was still attached to the sleeve.
Logan leaves me to get dressed, waiting for me downstairs. Somehow me not finding my maroon sweater had killed whatever moment was going on between us. Logan had lit the match again, touching the flame to the sparkler. This time, the sparks had grown, and I could feel us getting back to where we used to be. We weren’t completely there or maybe even a fraction. No amount of small touches, half-laughs, and gum walls could erase the secrets we were hiding from one another.
I was being greedy. Despite the shift between us, I wanted Logan’s touch. I wanted to revel in his words and kisses.
I wanted to take back what once was mine, secrets be damned.
Sixteen
Logan
The gum wall surprised me.
On the drive over, Lena had joked about the amount of germs that the walls could possibly be riddled with but had agreed to lay her mark on the wall with me. I laughed, reveling in the way Lena had changed in the past four hours. She had allowed small glimpses of herself throughout the day, even when we had stopped to eat lunch at a restaurant near the market. Unwillingly, my eyes diverted to the smoothie cart Natalie and I had been to the last time I was here, regretting every moment I spent with her. I began to question her true motives for working at the restaurant. Was she only working there to get close to me? Was she really the person Max had thought her to be? I didn’t know what I would find out if I dug deeper, but I knew I needed to start somewhere, and Max was a good place.
Guilt weighed heavily on me ever since Natalie kissed me. I knew the kiss wasn’t by choice and I didn’t ask for it but I still felt as if I had betrayed Lena in some way. I didn’t want Lena to know what happened between Natalie and me in fear that she would retreat even further from me than she already had. I was being selfish. Fully aware that every second that passed without telling Lena about Natalie was only making the situation worse. I simply needed more time. Time to sort out how I was going to handle going back to work, knowing what Natalie had done.
My marriage was riding on a thin tightrope. I didn’t want to give Lena a reason to let go completely.
Being at the market also reminded me of the eerie feeling I had of being followed. I tried to conceal my worry from Lena, forcing myself not to look over my shoulder everywhere we went. There was a possibility that the person I felt was following me was Natalie. That theory was quickly ruled out when I remembered Natalie was there that day at the market. There was someone else, lurking behind the groups of crowds, blending in unnoticed.
The crowds were fuller than the last time I was here. Summer was ending which in turn drew more tourists. I hoped by bringing Lena to a more public area that my suspicion of being followed would decrease. My worry only grew worse.
I try to spend the rest of the night with Lena like I had this morning. Putting all my energy into working on us.
When we go to bed, she curls up against me, pressing her back to my chest. I wrap my arm around her, pressing my palm to her stomach. She moans against her pillow, sliding her legs between mine.
“Thank you for today. I needed that.”
“Me too.” I press my lips to the back of her neck. Her soft hair smells like her favorite mint shampoo. I inhale, breat
hing her in.
“Are you sniffing my hair?” She halfway turns her head, looking over her shoulder.
I lift my head up slightly, looking down to her. “Why? Is that creepy?”
“A little.” She giggles.
Things are perfect between us in this moment. Somehow we had gotten back to the way we used to be. I was just afraid the moment would slip through my fingers before I’d even had a chance to enjoy it.
Not wanting this night to end, I slide my hand across her stomach, my fingers edging farther up her shirt. She’s wearing one of my old Boston shirts, one of the only ones I was able to grab when we escaped Providence.
The fabric is loose around her waist, allowing easier access. My fingers touch the bottom of her breast and I’m instantly hard for her. I press my erection to her lower back as she pushes farther against me, already knowing where I’m headed.
I press my lips to the top of her ear, breathing her in once again. “If this is considered creepy, then call me a creep.”
She laughs again but there’s less humor behind it this time. Her thighs tense as I slide my hand from her breast down to between her legs. She turns her face into her pillow, breathing against it. I slide my fingers under the hem of her underwear and she’s already soaked, ready for me.
She moans again as I start to slide my fingers back and forth against her sensitive spot. She starts moving her hips faster, pressing them into me harder. By this time, I’d usually have her turned over, pushing myself inside her. But I want this night to be all about Lena. I want to revel in the way she begs for my touch. I want to devour her, never letting her go.
I bend my neck, pressing my mouth to her neck again. I drag my teeth along her skin, gently biting down as I continue drawing circles on her sensitive skin. My fingers are wet, making every movement easier than the last. Within minutes, she’s pressed her body completely against mine, writhing against me, chasing her release.
Her breaths are heavy, and she keeps her face pressed against the pillow. After a few minutes, she turns her body around and gently pushes my shoulder, telling me to lay back. I do as she says. Her cheeks are still blushed with pink from reaching her climax, but her energy hasn’t diminished. Fire burns in her eyes as she stares down at me.
Mine: A Romantic Suspense Thriller (A Back to Me Series Book 2) Page 14
