Pistol Whipped (Love on Target Book 3)

by Ashley Bostock

  What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

  He tuned the women out as the customer continued to gush over the ensemble. He worked hard, trying to get the image of Gabbie wearing the erotic lingerie out of his mind, so when she nudged his back, he jumped.

  “I’m sorry. I just need to get by you to ring her up.” Her voice was angelic, breathy.

  “Sorry.” Sorry for many, many things right now.

  He mindlessly watched her ring up the red items. As each item passed his line of vision, each of Gabbie’s body parts flitted through his mind the same as the lingerie flitted smoothly through her hands. She took her time folding the sexy get-up into tissue paper before she deposited them into a bag and handed them over to her customer.

  “Once you get your cast off, if for any reason these don’t work, just bring them back in. We’ll get you figured out.”

  “Thank you so much! It should work fine. Thanks for trying them on for me.”

  Concentrate! He should go before he said, or worse, did something he would regret. His hands were literally twitching to grasp her by the hips and press his cock into her femininity. “I should go.”

  “What? No, you just got here. Help me, please. I need help with this stuff.”

  She didn’t really. She was probably trying to figure out the tension that was emanating from him like smoke on dry ice. He knew he was. When he looked into her eyes to tell her he couldn’t, to make up some lie about something coming up, he simply couldn’t. The truth was he didn’t want to leave. Watching her bite her lip, he was certain there was no other place he needed to go.

  “Sure. I’m all yours.”

  And he meant that in more ways than one.

  Chapter Five

  Gabbie went about the store, like she did every night, and adjusted garments here, refolded something there, making sure everything looked perfect. She had a few garments that still needed tags before she left. She tied her retail tags along the garment’s tag; that way the tags didn’t wind up in a tangled mess outside of the garment.

  She was trying to slow down and take her time but her date with Cody tonight had her excited. She hadn’t seen him in two weeks, which wasn’t a long time for them by any means. This is why their relationship worked. They were both busy, they didn’t have a ton of spare time, and they both understood that about each other.

  She double-checked the fitting rooms for any left items and when she passed the three-way mirror, she immediately thought about Logan. Logan. When she had helped her client with the broken leg, by trying on the lingerie she couldn’t try on, she had caught his eye in the three-way mirror.

  She shivered as she recalled the hungry look in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her that way. It was a silly thought to have but when she found him looking at her the way he had been, she had come alive with passion. That maybe he was looking at her like he wanted her…in his bed. It was stupid really because she knew Logan would never think about her like that. But for that brief moment when time seemed to be suspended in the air and her breath was caught in her throat, she couldn’t think of anything else except the way he was staring at her and the way it had made her heart beat quicken like nothing else ever had.

  His gaze had been direct, steady, and confident, as if watching her, dressed the way she had been, was the most normal thing in the world. His silent gaze conveyed that charming look women got from men so many times that said, I want you. The look that she used many times to market her brand for Lolita.

  No man in this Universe had ever looked at her that way before.

  She had felt beautiful, confident, and sexy for those brief seconds. She couldn’t think of anything except how his hands would feel roaming over her body. His devastating gaze was exactly why she opened this business and why she worked her butt off to sell beautiful undergarments to women. No, she didn’t think women needed a man’s attention to be confident or feel beautiful—It was the idea that they could make a man feel helpless.

  Make him feel so powerless that he couldn’t look away, no matter the situation. She had achieved that from Logan. Mission accomplished! Thinking about it now was just as silly as feeling the way she had that day. Pointless. She knew Logan hadn’t been looking at her the way she perceived but it made her feel like a wanted woman none-the-less.

  Her phone pinged with an incoming text. Logan. Come have a drink with me? I leave tomorrow. That’s right. She had forgotten he was going back to New York for a while to scope out the lay of the land at his father’s law firm. She wished she could. She sent him a message back happily informing him she was finally seeing the chef tonight. As happy as she was, she felt disappointed that she couldn’t see Logan, too. About time, I suppose. Tell him I said hello. She laughed out loud at his sarcasm, being sure to say in her message back that she would let Cody know how much Logan missed him. Another incoming message, this time from the man himself. Sorry it’s last minute. Something came up, can’t meet.

  Seriously? Her hopes dwindled. She had been so excited all afternoon and now this?

  Sorry. Can’t be helped. Rain check?

  She wanted to say no thanks, but this was how their lives were—unpredictable. She was okay with that.

  Yes, a rain check it is.

  Gabbie quickly texted Logan back. The chef bailed. Still up for a drink?

  Almost immediately she got Logan’s text. Come over.

  Well alrighty then. Logan’s it was. She did a quick walk-through once more, as was always her habit, and turned the lights off, locked up and headed to Logan’s.

  Chapter Six

  Logan drained the last of his beer. He tossed it into the trash and grabbed another out of the fridge. He hated feeling like this. He felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do.

  He’d been practicing law for only a few years, so it wasn’t like his clientele was huge by any means. He formed LLC’s and did a variety of work for the local banks and credit union. Nothing fancy in Manhattan terms. Nothing keeping him here, as Jack would say. Which was mostly true. Logan had his mom and stepfather, his older brother, Luke, and of course, a handful of friends. Then there was Gabriella. He was no longer sure which category to put her in, friend or family.

  Aside from what he would be leaving, he didn’t know exactly how he felt about getting everything handed to him. He knew it happened all the time. The parents would be successful in their business and the children would get everything handed to them on a silver platter. He watched enough reality shows about celebrities to know that it happened exactly that way. Born to succeed. The problem was, Logan wasn’t sure if he was above or below that line of thinking. Was it wrong that parents were successful and only wanted their hard work to live on and be appreciated by their offspring? Was is wrong for children to accept their parents hard work and take over it as if it were their own? Eventually it would be, but all the groundwork had been laid out for them ahead of time.

  The fact of the matter was money.

  Did Logan have so much pride to say no to potential millions? Did he think he had enough worth to make these clients happy? Was that the real problem? Logan not believing in himself? He was saved from further thoughts when Gabriella barged through his front door.

  She was wearing a short red dress that cinched at her hips and pulled down into a deep vee across her chest. She looked…angry. Beautiful, but angry.

  “I am so annoyed I could spit!” She spewed. In her hands, she held her favorite adult beverage—wine coolers. Wimpy as ever. She was also cute when she was mad, and she looked cute as ever holding the tiny four-pack. He wanted to laugh. But the evilness in her eyes forced him not to.

  “Spit then, Senorita.” Logan walked over withdrawing Gabriella’s beverage of choice from her hands. “I can’t believe you still drink this crap. It’s so…newbie, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well, beer,” she gestured to his bottle, “will p
ut unwanted weight on my hips and everything else gets me crazy drunk. Remember? One tequila, two tequila—”

  “—Yeah, yeah, I remember. So why are you so mad? Because of the chef?”

  She blew out a deep breath, her nose crinkling. “Yes! Which I shouldn’t care about because that is why this works for us, right? I mean, I can be just as busy as he can, and this has worked for us in the past so I don’t understand why I am so mad I could spit!”

  She took the drink Logan proffered to her, opened it and took a long swallow. Logan smiled as he watched her guzzle the wimpy beverage. His gaze swept over the dusting of freckles along the bridge of her nose. He appreciated her slender throat as she swallowed the concoction, watching her, waiting patiently for her next line of complaints.

  “Well, I just want to see him! I want to feel…something, Logan.”

  Oh boy. He’d like to give her something to feel. Something that would have her begging for more. He shook his head, trying to steer his mind straight. “Look, maybe what has worked for you guys in the past isn’t working anymore. Maybe you need a little bit more than the once-a-month attention thing that was working for you.”

  Gabriella swigged the last of her drink and grabbed another. “I don’t see how that could change. I’m still the same girl with the same work ethic and work commitment. It’s not like I have time for anything, let alone a relationship. I’m just frustrated with myself for feeling this way.”

  “Gabriella, people change, you know? Their thoughts change, their feelings…maybe you are wanting something different even though it isn’t making much sense right now.” He would know. He was feeling exactly that way.

  “I don’t know. It’s just…it’s been so long since I’ve even desired…well, anything, really.” She took another swig of her wine cooler and laid back onto his couch, closing her eyes. “What is wrong with me?”

  Logan was slightly confused. On one hand, she made it sound like she didn’t want sex, but then on the other hand, it was like she did. Should he bring that up? Who was he to question her thought process? The part of him that wanted Gabbie in his bed pushed him to ask his next question. “What do you want Gabbie? Sex or no sex? You’re confusing me.” Also, what did she mean it had been so long since she had even desired sex? He was under the impression she was trying to get the deed done with Brody.

  She blew out a breath, took another swig, effectively emptying it and opened another. “I want sex.”

  I want sex, too. Just not with Lucy like he’d been lately. No, this time he was fully aware he wanted to do the dirty deed with his good friend. Friend being the operative word here.

  “I’m just scared. Maybe that’s why Cody is changing his mind about me. Guys can tell when women aren’t sure about giving it up, can’t they? It’s like they’ve got some magical radar that tells them when women are ready for sex.”

  Logan sat next to her. “You make it sound more technical than it is actually. We have a penis, nothing more. Can I ask though, what are you so scared about?”

  She closed her eyes. She hesitated before answering. “Normal things, you know. This is such a stupid conversation to be having. Forget it. Are you all packed? What time does your plane leave?”

  “Yes, I’m all packed. I leave pretty early.”

  “I should go then.” She went to stand.

  He grabbed her arm. “Sit down and relax. You just got here and it’s only eight o’clock. What, do you think I’m so old, I need to go to bed this early?”

  She laughed. “No. I just hate feeling sorry for myself. So, what’s the plan once you get to the city?”

  “Well, I fly into La Guardia, and am expected at my dad’s office at three o’clock. Where he is expecting one of his more prominent clients at three thirty to introduce us and give me a taste of what’s on his mind.”

  “Wow, no rest for the wicked, right?”

  “That’s Jack for you. I’m not sure he’ll ever retire when he’s such a workaholic.”

  “Who is the guy you’re meeting?”

  “Hiroshi Miyamoto. His primary residence is Japan, but he owns numerous commercial properties here in the U.S.”

  “Sounds like a fancy guy. Does he know about the potential retirement and Jack wanting you to take over?”

  Logan sighed. “Yeah. According to my dad, Hiroshi is on board. Can’t wait to have a young attorney at his beck and call.”

  “I bet. But you don’t even know if that’s what you want to do, right? Unless there’s something you aren’t telling me…”

  “No. Nothing new. Still unsure. Am I crazy for not accepting what’s being handed to me with no-questions-asked? How does he even know I qualify for the job?”

  “Oh Logan, you need to have more faith in yourself. You would definitely qualify for the job. You’re super smart and a fast learner. You are so competitive, you don’t know how to fail. You would be great.” She finished her drink. Grabbed the last one. She frowned. “My last wine cooler. Have I drunk that many already? What am I going to have next?”

  Logan chuckled. “I think four wine coolers is enough, don’t you?” Logan watched her throat bob up and down as she swallowed the fruity flavors. “You’re going to get drunk, you know? You drank all those in like an hour or something.”

  She smiled. “So, what if I do? I have you to take care of me, right? At least until the early morning hours.”

  Logan nodded his head in agreement and didn’t respond to her, afraid of what he might say. He wanted to take care of her all night into the wee hours of the morning that was certain. But he was also certain that wasn’t how she meant it. At a minimum, he was dying to kiss her. It may be the one time in his life he was willing to taste her wet wine cooler lips that glistened underneath his living room light bulb.

  Gabriella reached for his beer and took a swig. “Did you and Lucy sleep together the first night you met?”

  Alarm bells dinged in his head. Where was this conversation headed? Cautiously, he gave her a slow nod. “Umm, yeah. Is that a crime?”

  “No, it’s no crime.” Her bottom lip jutted out. “She wasn’t nervous or…or scared or anything?”

  Logan looked at her quizzically. “No. Why would she be?”

  “Well, some people are afraid to have sex, you know.”

  Logan wasn’t sure what she was trying to say with this conversation, where she was going but he could tell Gabbie was already buzzing. Aside from the fact that her S’s were coming out longer than necessary, she would never bring this subject up to him.

  “Who is afraid to have sex?” he laughed. “We’re talking sex, Gabbie. Who? Name one person you know that lets fear rule their body rather than opting for an orgasm or two or three or four. Name one.” He held up his finger.

  “Two or three or four? You’ve got to be kidding me! I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s super silly really,” she giggled. “It’s super silly. Say that three times fast. Anyway, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You just wouldn’t believe it.”

  He took a swig of his—empty—beer and set it back down next to her pile of empty bottles. “No. We are having this conversation. Who?”

  “Me. I’m afraid to have sex.”

  She wouldn’t look into his eyes. Was she that drunk already? He almost laughed at the absurdity of the topic, but he could see it on her face that she was dead-fucking-serious.

  “Why?” Was all he could manage to choke out.

  She met his gaze. “I just am. People get…pregnant.” He watched her shudder. “You just can’t trust people. He-eeeey.” She drew out her words, her voice getting high-pitched. “I have an idea.”

  Uh, oh. An idea. This couldn’t be good. She grabbed another beer from his fridge, this time bringing Logan back his own to drink. If he were a great friend—which was now debatable due to this unforeseen attraction he was having toward her—he would have taken her beer away. But he wanted her to keep talking, he wanted to hear her out, wanted to know why she was so afraid of sex
. And getting pregnant? Yeah, that was a risk, but if you used protection, it was a slim-to-none risk. Why was she so hell-bent on that aspect?

  “You know I don’t want kids.” More slurry s’s. “What if I wound up pregnant by someone? That would be the end of my career as you know it!”

  “I know you have never wanted kids, but Gabbie, people have kids and careers all of the time. They make it work. You would, too. You know I’ve always thought you’d make a great mother.”

  “I know, but after the way I grew up with Tammy Crawford, I would hate to have a child live the way I did.”

  “You would never be like your mother, Cinderella. Ever. To even compare yourself to her disappoints me.”

  “But there would always be that chance. Oh!” She set her beer down on the table, the clunk causing what little of the beer remained, to foam up. “Back to my idea.”

  Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her idea…all that it may be. He could feel something stirring in the pit of his stomach as he considered it. She was pretty lit at this point and he, more than anyone, knew of the crazy-assed ideas she could come up with.

  One being, when they went down to New Mexico and she insisted they try Salsa Night Out. They had taken the night’s beginner lessons and had done a pretty good job of dancing. Until she thought they should join the performance dancers up on the bar like Coyote Ugly. She had taken off her shoes but the minute she tried crawling on top of the bar, bouncers had escorted them out. When she went for her shoes, she could only find one shoe. The next morning at their hotel, he had gone to find them breakfast, well it had been lunchtime when he rolled out to find them food. He had pressed the button for the elevator and once it finally got to their floor and dinged open, low and behold, her lost shoe was sitting all alone inside the elevator. It was the strangest thing ever. Like, someone had set it there on purpose and knew that he would be the one to find it.