“I thought we weren’t going to do this.” Not that she wanted to discourage him. Just the opposite. So, she leaned back, settling herself between his legs and giving his hands better access to her chest.
He nuzzled her neck with his lips. His hot breath tickled her sensitive skin and his hands lingered as he cupped her breasts in his hands. “I see I have a lot to teach you,” he murmured in her ear.
Full and heavy, she felt the weight of her breasts settle into his palms. “Parking involves forbidden desire. I want you, you want me… but we know it’s too soon.” He continued to explain. All the while his thumbs wreaked havoc on her senses by rolling and pulling her nipples into tight peaks, and his lips traveled a damp path up her neck.
She sighed aloud, half hoping he’d understand what she needed, even if she wasn’t sure herself.
“When you’re parking, you can do anything you want.” He grasped her earlobe between his teeth and pulled. The stinging sensation traveled straight downward and she clenched her thighs together tightly. But the empty, longing sensation remained.
“Anything?” she asked. Her need was so great she’d do anything to alleviate the pulsing, pounding desire. Waves of longing rolled over her, intense and strong.
“Almost anything,” he replied. Without warning, he turned her around, caught her beneath him on the couch. His arms bracketed her, and he eased himself down until he lay on top of her, chest to chest. His erection pressed strongly against her, ready and wanting just like she was.
“I think I like this parking business,” she managed to say through labored breaths.
He laughed. “Done like this, I have to agree. It’s a lot more comfortable on a full-length couch in an air-conditioned apartment. But I’d be happy anywhere as long as I was with you.” His hips jerked against hers.
His swollen desire pushed insistently against her and liquid trickled between her legs. She leaned her head back and moaned with pleasure.
Without warning, he began a grinding motion, a circular press of his hips that pushed her into the couch and ground his hard erection into her. “Now, this is what parking’s all about,” he whispered in her ear.
The waves came fast and furious, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. “Logan…”
“Go with it, sweetheart.”
“But you’re not, we’re not…”
He groaned, pumping his body into hers. “Yes, Cat, we are.” He let out a harsh breath.
Minutes later, still wrapped in his arms, Catherine nuzzled her cheek into his. This was as close to perfect as life could get. If she was in heaven, she never wanted to wake up.
And if life never intruded again, she never would.
* * *
Sweet Sixteen, Catherine thought as she placed the balloon-laden centerpiece on the last table. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. The pink and white balloons intermingled with gold Mylar and red roses were a testament to the young girl’s youthful dreams—and, Catherine thought, the love of her parents. The soon-to-be sixteen-year-old was very lucky.
She looked around the room once more, and ascertaining the tables were complete and the party favors were in the corner, she headed out. The restaurant was handling the catering. All Pot Luck had been hired for were decorations. Her job here was complete.
In the week since the Montgomery party, Catherine had received a flurry of phone calls and had set up appointments with many of Hampshire’s residents who had been at the Montgomery Garden Gala. Although Pot Luck had catered a classy affair, Catherine knew she had Emma to thank for the ensuing referrals. But that had been before her run-in with Judge Montgomery. She couldn’t imagine what the fallout from that episode would be.
Nor, she realized, did she care. She and Kayla had built a catering business in one short year. They’d been doing fine before they’d known the name Montgomery and they’d do fine after. Business-wise, Catherine was happy with her life and she’d survive without Montgomery referrals if need be.
But she wouldn’t survive without Logan. Her heart knew it as well as her mind. The question remained: What did she intend to do about it?
When she hit the top of the stairs, exhaustion overtook her. Her body still tingled from the pleasure Logan had given her last night and her mind soared with possibilities. The front of the restaurant was comprised of a waiting area and a bar. The stools looked cushioned and comfortable, and she didn’t think anyone would mind if she grabbed one and rested before making the half-hour drive back to Boston.
“Drink?” The bartender who’d been wiping down glasses paused in front of her.
Catherine shook her head.
“Come on, I saw you unload that van of balloons yourself. Have a drink. It’s on the house.”
Catherine smiled. “How can I refuse an offer like that? Club soda with a twist of lime.”
“You got it.” He flipped on the television sitting high above the bar. “My girlfriend does a local entertainment show at noon.”
“Mmm. Good for her.”
“Yeah. She’s hoping the bigger networks will pick her up one day. For now, she’s happy doing weekends on the local station. There she is now.” With a flip of the remote, he raised the volume.
Except for the trickle of people beginning to flow to the party downstairs, no other patrons were in the bar. Catherine found it easy to relax and focus on the television show. “She’s got poise,” Catherine murmured, glancing at the woman on the screen.
The bartender nodded. “Sure does. I just hope she gets the break she deserves.”
“Me too.” Catherine blinked, and the next thing she saw was Logan’s beachfront cottage. Warning bells and an unwelcome sense of foreboding sent her apprehension soaring. “Make it louder, please.”
“See? She’s even won you over.”
Catherine ignored him, focusing on the screen. The anchorwoman’s voice-over did little to calm the churning in Catherine’s stomach. This was not good. She’d avoided the Internet, afraid of what she’d see. Although she knew she couldn’t avoid the headlines forever, she’d wanted to bask in the memories of last night for as long as possible. She also hadn’t expected television coverage of Judge Montgomery’s arranged event.
Just what do you think a press conference entails, Catherine? She shook her head and concentrated on the cultured, feminine voice. “Hampshire’s boy wonder, Logan Montgomery, firmly dispelled any rumors of an impending run for mayor. Despite Judge Montgomery’s posturing and claims to the contrary, the younger Montgomery insists he will not be running for office.”
Catherine smiled. At least Logan had swayed the media to see things his way. The screen went from the beautiful young anchor to Logan, standing in his standard jeans and pullover, his cottage in the background. He looked sexily disheveled and Catherine knew she had helped cause that rumpled look before they’d been caught by the photographers.
Logan’s voice cut into her thoughts. “…and while I appreciate the confidence of the judge and other supporters, running for mayor is not in my plans.”
“And what would those plans be, Mr. Montgomery?” a reporter’s voice sounded.
“After my stay at the public defender’s office, I intend to open my own practice where clients will be offered affordable representation.”
Catherine couldn’t help but notice his class and poise. If he’d chosen to run for mayor, he’d make a formidable opponent. Composed and sure of himself, it would take an incredible opposing candidate to beat his charismatic charm. She also noticed his father was not by his side during this speech.
Her heart squeezed at the thought of him standing up to the judge and coming out on top but still alone. She wondered what had transpired between the two men after her abrupt departure. Logan had been deliberately vague on the subject. She could only imagine his father’s displeasure at finding them together. Not that he’d realized right away who she was.
“Every generation of Montgomerys has either sat on the bench or held public offic
e, conquered the world by leaps and bounds. Doesn’t it bother you to break with tradition?” the reporter asked.
“Not at all.” Logan looked straight into the camera. “I’d rather conquer the world one person at a time.”
Catherine’s stomach curled into a delicious knot. With his emphasis on the word one and the intense, focused look in his eyes, he might as well have been gazing into her eyes and promising her his undying devotion.
They’d said as much with their bodies last night. The unspoken words meant little when the actions were there. For the first time today, she realized he’d managed to convince her that different backgrounds didn’t matter as much as she thought.
Without warning, the camera panned back and the anchorwoman’s serious face replaced Logan’s smile. “Mr. Montgomery’s pullback from a speculated run for office couldn’t have come at a more convenient time. Minutes before the scheduled press conference, this picture was taken of Mr. Montgomery in a compromising position.”
Catherine’s nightmare flashed on the television screen for the world to see. Well, for all of Boston to see since this was a local station, but that didn’t ease the sudden pain in her chest. There she was, Logan’s shirt pulled up to her thighs, his arms wrapped around her waist and his cutoff shorts, his only clothing, hidden by their entangled position.
“Hey, isn’t that—”
“Me,” she said, cutting the bartender off, then she turned her attention back to the screen.
“Logan Montgomery’s companion is Catherine Luck, co-owner with her sister, Kayla Luck, of a local catering and party company, whimsically named Pot Luck.”
“No publicity is bad publicity,” Catherine muttered aloud. She held her head in her hands and continued to watch her life be made fodder for gossip, speculation, and ridicule, just as she’d feared.
She wasn’t immune to the embarrassment. Neither, Catherine suspected, was her pregnant and emotionally vulnerable sister.
“The Luck sisters are best known for the scandal involving an inherited business, a charm school for men that turned out to be a front for a prostitution ring with ties to organized crime…”
Good God, what would they drag up next?
“…and, with her working-class background, Catherine Luck is not the woman one would expect to see Logan Montgomery consorting with. But a romp on the beach is far different from a lifetime…”
Entertainment show? More like gossip and tabloid exploitation, she thought with disgust. She didn’t have to take any more. “Shut it off. Please.”
The bartender glanced from Catherine’s face to his girlfriend on the screen. He turned off the television.
Catherine tried to breathe, but her heart was beating so rapidly she thought her chest might explode. Thinking was near impossible, but she forced herself to concentrate—and her first coherent thought was of Kayla. Bed rest and a high-risk pregnancy. Catherine had to check on her sister.
If she’d seen the news, Catherine had to minimize the damage. If Kayla had missed the local broadcast, then Catherine wanted to be the person to break the newest scandal to her sister. And to Kane. At the thought of the overprotective cop, Catherine winced.
She grabbed her purse and bolted outside. Until she’d made sure Kayla was okay, Catherine couldn’t think of the ramifications to herself. But she’d have to, and soon, she thought, fingering the tie still on her finger.
Not to mention the ramifications to her relationship with Logan.
* * *
“She’s not answering the phone, but I’d lay odds she’s there.” Logan muttered a frustrated curse.
“I don’t like this.” Emma paced the linoleum floor of his office. She’d arrived soon after him, shared coffee, and commiserated over his stint on television and social media. With his friends and colleagues ribbing him, he appreciated her support.
The sun shone brightly through the battered blinds, but Logan barely felt the heat. “I don’t like it, either,” he muttered.
“Call her again.”
“I’ve been calling on the hour since last night.”
Catherine hadn’t answered the phone. She hadn’t returned his calls. And he didn’t think she was coincidentally busy or out of touch.
His once-solitary life had become a recipe for disaster. Catherine, the only woman he’d ever fallen for, was the one woman who shouldn’t be subjected to the indignities of the media. The photo of Logan and Catherine on the beach had gone viral—all in record time. Logan hadn’t realized the public had such a raging interest in his sex life. It would almost be funny if the consequences weren’t so dire.
He grabbed for the phone and punched in her number once more.
“Is she in labor?” To his shock, Catherine’s concerned voice answered after the first ring.
“Cat?”
“Logan. I didn’t check the screen before I answered,” she said.
“You were expecting Kane.” It wasn’t a hard guess.
“Yes.”
He anticipated a strained silence to follow, but she continued to speak instead. “To be honest, now’s not a good time.”
Not that he liked what she had to say. “Gossip stinks, Cat, but it has nothing to do with us.”
He heard a distinctive beep and knew she’d gotten another call on the line. He muttered a curse.
“What’d she say?” Emma asked, leaning too close to the phone.
He shooed her away and she went gracefully, seating herself in the old chair across from his desk. One good thing that had come out of this fiasco was Emma’s new-found grace, dignity, and respect for his private life.
“I’ve got to go,” Catherine said.
“Take the call and come back to me. I’ll hang on.” He knew how important her sister was in her life. Although Logan wouldn’t stand in the way of her obvious fear and concern, he wouldn’t cut her loose without a fight, either.
“I can’t think about myself now.”
The question was would she think about them later or would she use this time to retreat further away? He drew a deep breath, then another, ignoring his hovering grandmother.
He had no choice but to grab opportunity when he had the chance. “Then think about this. I love you.”
Her soft gasp of shock was cut off by the damned insistent call-waiting. “I can’t do this now. I’m sorry. Goodbye, Logan.”
“Just think about it, Cat.”
“I can’t.” The phone intruded again. “I’m hanging up now,” she said before severing the connection.
He snorted in frustration at her use of Emma’s tactic and placed his phone down, his stomach in twisted knots.
“You are going after her, aren’t you? Because I have an idea. We can…”
“Forget it, Gran. I’ll handle this myself.”
“Fine, leave an old lady out of the fun. Deny me my enjoyment in life.” She let out a long-suffering sigh.
He rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive.”
“Well, then, I have a car waiting for me outside.”
“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Logan said.
“No need. I’d like to hang by the water cooler a while first.”
Logan grinned. “I do love you, Gran.”
Emma smiled. “I love you, too. And so does Catherine.” His grandmother kissed his cheek. “Even if she didn’t say it back.”
He shook his head. “You’re too perceptive, smart, and nosy for my own good.”
“Ah, but I spice up your life.”
“That you do.”
He watched her regal retreat and heard her voice as she mingled with the office staff. Knowing she was occupied, not meddling in his life, gave him time to think about Cat.
Then think about this. I love you, he’d told her. Logan didn’t mind giving her his heart, but if she wanted to accept it, she was going to have to come to him.
* * *
Kayla and Kane had a baby boy. Catherine stretched her feet out in front of her on the plastic-like couch i
n the hospital waiting room. She hung her head backward, breathing deeply for the first time in what felt like hours.
Her sister had a family of her own now. One that didn’t include her. Oh, they’d never exclude her, and she planned to be the best aunt in the universe to that child, but she wasn’t a part of their immediate family.
Not in the ways that counted. Why did that bother her so much? When had she begun wanting more out of a life she’d thought made her happy?
When she’d met Logan. He’d dredged up her old class-difference insecurities, then set out to overcome them. To make her believe she could have everything in life, even a man from a wealthy family.
She sat up in her seat, realizing she was up to the challenge. Going viral on the Internet and hitting entertainment shows had opened her eyes to a lot of things. So had the birth of this baby.
A new life meant new possibilities. New directions. Catherine could learn from that. She wasn’t defined by her past. So she’d come from a poor background. She’d gotten beyond it. The judge would have to as well because Catherine wasn’t going anywhere.
She wanted all the things in life her sister had found, and she was determined to get them. Her heart still fluttered when she remembered his unexpected words.
I love you.
Well, she loved him, too, and she was damn well going to show him.
* * *
“…the charges against the defendant are dismissed. Court is adjourned.” The judge banged his gavel and strode from the room. After a brief handshake with his ecstatic client, Logan heaved a groan of relief. The case from hell was over.
He tossed things into his briefcase, grateful it was only Tuesday, and he was looking forward to a quiet end of the week. Not surprisingly, his thoughts turned to Catherine. He hadn’t heard from her. Not one word.
Logan was as understanding as the next guy, but he’d discovered something about himself. His desire to be her lapdog only went so far. He’d extended himself as much as he could without compromising his integrity.
I love you weren’t words he said idly or to every woman he’d dated. In fact, he’d never said them before. And he wouldn’t be saying them again unless she decided to get in touch with him.
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