Your B&B or Mine

by Melissa West

  Pushing through the back French doors, he stepped out onto the deck, walking to the edge and peering around. The deck held two wrought iron tables with ceramic and wrought iron chairs. The deck itself had long since faded, and needed to be pressure-washed and re-stained.

  There were four steps that led down to a small patio. Another small three-piece table set was placed just outside the basement door, and then from the patio five or six stepping stones led to the garden around the side of the house, which was by far the best part of the land. Suddenly, Logan understood why the bed-and-breakfast suffered financially. While the inside was fairly well kept and the rooms had their charm, the outside left a lot to be desired.

  He pulled out his phone and began snapping pictures of the grounds. The deck. The tables. The overgrown woods. When he turned to take a photo of the deck, a very angry face filled his screen.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Logan couldn’t keep the grin from his face as he lowered his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. He’d almost snapped a photo of Savannah just so he could show it to her. Hands on her hips, foot tapping, her adorable face etched in anger—he wondered if she brought that sass to the bedroom, and he found himself wishing he could find out. Just once. Then he’d hide his feelings again and be a good boy.

  “Are you going to answer, or keep staring at me with that damn smirk on your face?”

  The smirk widened. He couldn’t help it. “I thought I’d take a few photos.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

  “For guests to take photos of their stay?”

  “For lowlife suckers to take research photos on private property. I told you to get out.”

  Logan cocked his head like he was considering it. “Yeah…I don’t think so.” He walked around her to the stairs and started down, Savannah rushing after him, so angry now he could almost feel the laser beams from her eyes piercing through his back.

  “You can’t stay if I tell you to leave.”

  “Watch me.”

  She sputtered. “I’ll have you arrested.”

  Logan turned to her, one eyebrow lifted, and she took a step back. “Fine. Travis won’t take you in. But I’ll have Jack drag your pretty ass right out of here.” She crossed her arms.

  From the deck, the sound of someone biting an apple had both their heads craning around to see who had invaded their fight.

  “Hey, man,” Logan called to Jack. “Your sister says you’re going to drag my—” He leaned toward Savannah. “What was it you called my ass? Oh, right. Pretty. Didn’t realize you’d grown so fond of my ass.” He winked at her, causing Savannah to fume even more. Her mouth opened to yell at him, but he raised a hand to stop her. “Do I need to be worried?” he asked Jack, who simply laughed.

  “Well, I am a pro athlete.”

  “I heard.” Logan scratched his chin. “Though, I was a decorated soldier. Gotta count for something right? Ever shot anybody?” he asked Jack.

  Jack laughed. “Point taken. You’re on your own, sis. But I’ll be sure to watch you try to drag his pretty ass out of here.”

  “I hate you both,” Savannah said, earning a laugh from the men.

  The day had started to drift into late afternoon, the hot sun disappearing behind the trees, making the air more comfortable to stand in without melting, but the humidity was still alive and well. He considered asking Savannah if she wanted to go for a swim to cool off that attitude of hers, but he thought that might piss her off even further. Instead, he pointed to the small notepad in her hand.

  “What’s that?”

  “None of your—”

  “It’s a list of all the stuff to fix around here,” Jack called down, causing Savannah to whirl around to him.

  “Shut up, or you’re next on my blacklist. Blood or not.”

  Jack threw up his hands, shot Logan a grin, then went back inside.

  “Basement doorknob,” Logan read from the top of her list. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Feel free to find out for yourself,” she said, then she disappeared into the gardens, jotting down notes in her little pad the whole way. Logan grinned after her. Her hips swayed as she walked, drawing his gaze to her barely-there shorts and then up her narrow waist to her light blue tank top. The outfit had a very just-thrown-on look, but on Savannah it was sexy as hell.

  He turned back to the house, his thoughts on this frustrating woman—the only woman he truly couldn’t have and yet the only one he’d truly ever wanted.

  Chapter Eight

  By the time Savannah completed her list and made it back into the house, she had twenty-three things to fix, none of them especially cheap or easy. The easiest—and hopefully cheapest—had to be the basement door, though the doorknob looked decently new, so she couldn’t imagine how she could fix it without calling Jim. He’d already cut her a deal on the water issue, thanks to his long-time friendship with Jack. She couldn’t expect another favor.

  The house sat quiet, Mrs. Cooke gone home with no guests to attend to, and Leigh and Jack likely in town to eat. She wondered why they could come and go as they liked, eating when they liked, when she was the one running around trying to fix everything.

  The thought made her angry, and then she wondered why she was so easily angered all the time. Had she always been this volatile? Surely not.

  Her thoughts went to her one and only guest, and she had her answer. Logan Park was the very definition of annoying. He showed up with his carefree attitude and knowing smirk and threw her world upside down, reminding her very much of the boy she’d once known. Only he didn’t look like a boy. No, not a boy at all. With his defined arms and narrow waist, she could only imagine what he looked like behind all those perfectly fitted clothes. And she bet he knew exactly how hot he was, as well as the effect he had on the opposite sex. Damn him.

  Cursing herself for her pretty ass comment, she went down the steps to the basement, ordering herself not to be afraid. And to be more careful around Logan, or else she’d reveal just what she truly thought of him. Pretty ass and all.

  The door to the basement was closed like always, so she pushed it open and stepped inside. She was about to place her notepad in the doorjamb to prevent it from closing, when she heard someone rushing toward her. “Ahhh!” she screamed and wheeled around, the door slamming shut behind her.

  “Fantastic.”

  Savannah took in Logan, his hands on his hips, his head shaking.

  “The door gets caught.”

  “No kidding,” she said. “Why do you think it was on my list? What are you doing down here, anyway?” Her eyes traveled up and down him in an attempt at judgment, but all he did was flash that smirk of his, causing her body to spark and flicker with want. Age had served him well, and with all her pent up emotions—and, okay, recent sexual drought—she was finding it hard to separate her anger from her attraction.

  “I tried to fix it, but the door closed on me when I turned around. Then you came in. But now…” He tossed his hand helplessly at the door. “We’re stuck.”

  Savannah grabbed the doorknob and turned, but it just went around, refusing to catch so it could actually open. She pulled the door, jiggled harder, then pulled again, all with no luck. It wouldn’t budge. “Ugh!” This wasn’t happening. Of all the people to get stuck somewhere with, it had to be Logan. The bottom-feeder who sent her pulse into a frenzied mess. Her bad luck should make it into the Guinness Book of World Records.

  Walking over to the door that led outside, she turned the knob, expecting to just go out that way, but it, too, refused to budge.

  “It’s a double locking door—from the outside and inside. There’s no key.”

  Savannah crossed her arms and faced Logan. “Clearly.”

  “Do you have your cell? Just call Jack or Leigh.”

  She turned away from him, her eyes wide as she peered around the dark basement. With just the single light, it looked like something out of a horro
r movie. Why hadn’t her mama added more lighting down here? That was going on her list right after the damn doorknob. “It’s sitting on the front desk.”

  “You left your cell phone unattended? Someone could take it.”

  A sarcastic laugh burst from her lips. “Really, who? The only person staying here is you!”

  “Point taken.” He pulled his own phone from his pocket and glanced at Savannah, those green eyes of his drawing her in. “I’ll call. What’s the number?” At her puzzled expression, he dropped his arm to his side. “You don’t know their numbers?”

  “They’re in my cell phone. No one knows anyone’s phone number by heart anymore.”

  “I do.”

  “Yeah, but you’re weird with numbers. Always have been.”

  He grinned and she knew he was thinking of the time she’d asked him to tutor her in math. It’d taken fifteen minutes of stalling and annoyed grunts for her to actually say the word help. And then it’d taken all her effort not to deck him when he said, “Sure, but you’ll have to say please.”

  “Why do you always do that?” Savannah asked, annoyed.

  He looked around. “What?”

  “Smirk all the time. Like you know something I don’t know, and you’re refusing to tell me.”

  At that, the smirk returned, and Savannah contemplated the decking him idea again. “Now you’re just doing it to piss me off.”

  Logan shook his head. “I assure you, I never deliberately try to piss you off. Though it somehow happens all the same. Anyway, it’s fine. I’ll just call Travis.”

  “No. You can’t call anyone in town. I’ll be the laughing stock—a week on the job and I get myself locked in the basement. Don’t call them. We’ll just have to wait for Jack and Leigh to return.”

  “Where did they go?”

  Savannah walked over and sat down on a broken wooden bench. It used to sit on the front porch. She did her homework on it when she was little. “Sal’s.”

  “Well, that settles it.” Logan released a long breath and motioned for her to move over so he could sit beside her. “Might as well get comfortable. We’ll be here for a while.”

  “This is my seat. Find your own.” Her body might react in crazy ways to him, but that didn’t mean she had to give it any extra opportunities. Savannah crossed her arms and kept her focus away from him. So she didn’t see him lean in close and wasn’t at all prepared to be picked up, his strong arms cradling her close, his woodsy scent intoxicating her senses. A sigh broke free before she could contain it, and he laughed just before setting her back down on the other side of the bench.

  “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

  “What does it look like? Moving you over.”

  Fury raged through her, but another part of her was more than a little curious at how easily he’d lifted her. She wondered if he worked out, if he lifted weights…if he lifted women before placing them in his bed. Did he hover over them, his eyes on theirs before kissing them?

  Suddenly, the cold basement felt very, very hot.

  Clearing her throat, she crossed her arms and then her legs, frustrated at the sudden burning sensation radiating from the center of her back and how very close it felt to jealousy. She had no claim on Logan, but that didn’t keep her from hating the idea of some other woman claiming him as hers. But that was stupid. Logan had never once been Savannah’s.

  She thought of the long summer days they’d shared together, laying out below the clouds and the stars, nothing to keep them company but their thoughts and each other. It was then she realized what a great voice Logan had. Deep but smooth. There was nothing scratchy or rough about it. His voice walked the line between speech and song, and she could listen to him talk all day without growing tired. She’d wondered why she never noticed it before, but then realized Will had always been there, too.

  Will.

  The single thing both linking and separating them. After Will’s death, she’d hoped Logan would become a close friend, someone she could talk to who understood. But soon, her attraction to him became too much. She found herself brushing her hair before their visits, checking her breath, smoothing her clothes. It was foolish, and though she’d felt shame the entire walk over, her insides would light up the moment she saw him. Young Logan was all worn cargo shorts and white T-shirts, his golden skin tanned from their hours in the sun, his hair almost white in places, wheat or honey in others. It was impossible to look at him without staring.

  But he never tried to impress her, never hinted that he felt anything significant for her other than as his dead best friend’s girl. Until one day while they were cloud watching, she allowed him to catch her staring. Their gazes held as his hand glided over the blanket, and then her breath caught as his fingers ran over her open palm before closing around her hand. It was nothing and everything. They didn’t speak for three days after.

  But then the worst storm Maple had ever seen rolled in and she’d had to see him, had to know that they were still okay, that he was still her friend. Only, when she found him, nothing about the look in his eyes said friendship…and in the next moment, everything had changed. But why? Why did anything have to change?

  Why did he have to leave?

  The thought made her heart ache all over again, and finally, unable to sit still another second, Savannah jumped up. She couldn’t sit this close to the man without at least asking him the one question that had poisoned her mind with doubt for so many years.

  “Why did you do it?”

  Logan looked up at her like she’d lost her mind, and maybe she had. The stress of losing her mother, coupled with the bed-and-breakfast’s financial woes, were enough to do her in. And then the one person who could shake her insides with one look came strutting into town, demanding to sleep in the room across from hers. How could any woman of a right mind stay sane?

  He eyed the bench, then her. “I wanted to sit down.”

  “Not that.” She took a step back and wrapped her arms around her stomach, needing to support herself if she hoped to say her next words. “Why did you kiss me…and then leave?”

  ...

  Logan snapped his mouth closed, his eyes on the woman in front of him, the one question he’d hoped she’d never ask sucking the oxygen from his lungs. Still, he refused to look away from her.

  “I…”

  The memory came back to him as though it’d happened moments before. The storm had blown in, rain beating down outside, drowning out everything. He and Savannah had met every day for two weeks, and for two weeks those visits were the only thing keeping him going. Will’s death had thrown him in a way he never thought possible. He doubted everything, but most of all he doubted his own humanity. How could he be alive when a person like Will wasn’t?

  And then he’d changed everything by holding her hand.

  He’d been itching to get out of the house, to go over to Savannah’s and tell her something, anything to make her talk to him again. He wanted to admit the thing that ate at his insides everyday, that both made him and destroyed him every time he saw her.

  That he loved her.

  Loved her with a sort of depth that would never end, that would only grow and tangle and bloom. That it wasn’t two weeks worth of time with her. It was years upon years, knowing he didn’t deserve her, but not caring. Especially not in that moment.

  Will was gone, and he wanted to ache. He wanted to rip off the Band-Aid and pour acid on it, and then do it all over again, until he could no longer stand the pain. And then his drunken-ass father had stormed into his room, shouting all the things Logan already knew—that he’d be deployed in two days, and with any luck, he’d find the same fate as Will.

  Angry, he’d pushed out the back door, allowing the pouring rain to drench his clothes and heart, mixing with tears he could no longer hold back. How he ended up at their spot, he didn’t know. He’d never walked there before, but that day he wasn’t thinking, only acting. And that’s when she found him, wrecked and
nearly sobbing. It was like she saw straight into his soul, and in two steps they were together, arms wild and frantic, their lips finally saying all the things they couldn’t say out loud. Then, what began as a reckless kiss turned into more as his hands explored her body, reaching for her shirt as she reached for his. They were moments from succumbing to each other right there in front of God and whoever else might be watching.

  But then the rain slowed, and with the clear sky came clearer thinking. He’d made a terrible mistake. She’d been right to feel regret the other day, but he now he saw only hope. How had he not seen it before? She wanted him to fill Will’s spot, and he never could. Not in a lifetime of trying. But how could he explain that to her? He knew the guilt would come for her, too, and he didn’t want her to suffer the way he did. He cared for her too much for that. So he left.

  How could he help her see that he’d done her a favor? His only thought had been to save her from more pain.

  “Was it me?” she asked, bringing him back to the moment.

  Ah hell…

  He shook his head and stood, unable to speak. It took every bit of effort to keep his eyes on hers, to take in the pain there. He’d never noticed it behind the anger and sass, or realized that after all these years, the problem wasn’t that he’d left, but that he’d hurt her. He thought she’d get over it, move on, and remember him as the asshole who’d kissed her one rain-drenched summer day. But he could see it had meant more to her than he’d ever guessed. The realization made him want to pull her into his arms and never let her go, to protect her from ever being hurt again. But that wasn’t his story with Savannah. It was Will’s.

  Forcing himself to draw a breath, he swallowed and took a step toward her. “No, it wasn’t you.”

  “Then what? I thought…I don’t know. That we were…”

  “We were.”

  “Then, why—”

  Finally his last bit of control snapped and he started for her. “Because my best friend was killed in action, and I came home and did what? Serve his memory? Volunteer at some damn charity, or vow to follow the straight and narrow? No, I kiss the one person he loved most in the world. And not just kissed. I wanted you. I wanted you like I had never wanted anything, and when I finally touched you, felt your skin against mine, I couldn’t back away. I tried. God above, I tried. But then you were there, and my mind was shit, and all I wanted was to make everything worse. So I did. I walked myself straight to hell’s gate, and I have never been more sorry for anything in my life.”