“Uh, Mom, I gotta go.”
* * *
Cassie opened her door, and Logan’s green-gold eyes flashed when he caught sight of her. “Cassie. Happy Christmas, lass.”
Oh, she’d missed that burr. The throaty purr of his voice was more potent than a hot toddy, warming her insides and making her dizzy. “Logan.” She smiled weakly. “This is a … surprise. What are you doing here?” He shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t be here. But there he stood, broad shoulders filling her doorway. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve brought you something.” He pulled the box he’d been carrying from under his arm and held it out to her.
“What’s this?” Cassie eyed the box. Did he think to win her back with presents? She thought of the two tiny packages still resting in the toes of her shoes. She hadn’t touched his gifts. Hadn’t worn that pair of shoes for weeks. His St. Nicholas presents were still exactly where she’d found them, unopened.
“The black bun Mam promised ye.”
“Oh, thanks.” Cassie took the box, surprised at its weight, it was heavier than the tome she’d bought her dad for Christmas. “Um, why don’t you come in?” She closed the door behind him and set the heavy box on her coffee table. “It was sweet of your mother to remember to send this. I suppose she’s really missing you right now.”
“You know,” he said, eyes warm and tender, “I don’t think she’ll be as bad off as I thought.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Cassie recalled how he’d been with his mom and sister at Thanksgiving and considered the pieces of the Logan puzzle Janet had given her. In Lochalsh, she’d had the opportunity to view Logan in a completely different light, the prankster hidden, the ever-present mischievous grin buried under layers of concern for his mother and her happiness. Cassie had seen the burden he carried for abandoning his family’s business, the weight of grief for the father he’d lost heavy on his shoulders.
Guilt curdled the suspicion in her gut. It was Christmas Eve, for heaven’s sake. The man was thousands of miles away from his home and family, she could cut him a break. “It’s good to see you.” She smiled at him, only a teensy scared at how true that statement was. “Tell you what, how about we declare a Christmas truce?”
A crooked, hopeful smile lit the corners of his mouth, and Cassie’s heart slid sideways.
* * *
Logan watched, breath caught in his throat, as Cassie unwrapped the two presents he’d tucked in her shoes what felt like a millennia ago. She peeled away the paper with meticulous care, going so slowly he thought he was going to expire from impatience. Finally, she gasped and he exhaled.
“They’re for your wee bracelet.” He’d believed the charms a grand idea at the time, but now he worried they would seem uninspired, or worse, remind her of the other charms he’d bought for her. The ones that had led to her abandoning him in London.
“They’re perfect.” She held up the bits of jewelry, a tiny silver fairy and a hammered pewter moon.
Like talismans, seeing the charms in her hand transported him back to that night on the hill in Lochalsh, where they’d laughed and kissed under the glow of a full moon. Christ, he’d missed her. He shifted on the couch, his blood running hot and cold. He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to tell her how stupid he’d been, how sorry he was.
He wanted to tell her he loved her.
She clipped the jewelry to her bracelet and held her wrist up. “Thank you,” she said, tilting her arm so he could see the two new charms glittering with the rest of her collection.
Now. Do it now. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he touched the delicate wings of the fairy charm. “You like them?”
“I love them.”
Do you love me? Unable to hold back from touching her any longer, he reached for Cassie’s hand. “Lass,” he said, a catch in his voice, “I want to apologize. I never meant for the video to get out. It was a stupid mistake. I was … well, it doesna matter what I was doing. But I was a git, and I’m sorry. And I hope you can forgive me.”
Her mouth worked. He held his breath and stroked his fingers over her palm.
“I do forgive you,” she mumbled, gaze fixed on their joined hands.
The iron bands around his lungs loosened a wee bit, and he sucked in air. She’d said she forgave him, but that was a far cry from wanting to be with him again.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this over the past two weeks,” she continued, her voice gaining strength, “and the truth is, I’d already forgiven you.”
“Then why wouldn’t you answer my calls? Why keep ignoring me?”
“Because deep down, I was still upset about something else. Something other than the video.”
He tensed.
She kissed his cheek and stood. “Be right back.” A moment later, Cassie returned and sat next to him, handing him a brightly colored package. “Your turn.”
He took the gift, curiosity and pleasure mixing together in a sweet, heady mash. What had she chosen for him? Unlike Cassie, Logan tore his present open in mere seconds, ripping the paper to shreds.
“Bangers?” He stared down at the box, nonplussed. “You got me firecrackers?” He opened the package, checking to make sure she hadn’t hidden something different inside.
“Oh God, it was a dumb idea.” She groaned, the crimson flush staining her cheeks rivaling that of any ginger. “It’s just, the story your family told about your dad. You all seemed so happy remembering it. And New Year’s Eve is coming up, so I thought maybe…” She shrugged.
“They’re perfect,” he said, heart squeezing as understanding dawned.
“You’re only repeating what I said.” She bit her lip, discomfort radiating off her in waves.
“Nay, it’s true.” He fiddled with the box and winked at her. “I’ll be delighted to stir up some Hogmanay mischief Da would be proud of.”
“Promise me one thing.”
He stared at her. “What’s that?”
“No exploding toilets. With my luck, it’ll be my nosy neighbor who ends up with a banger flying up her bum.”
“We canna have that.” He grinned and pulled her into his arms. “And I’m serious,” he said, emotion thickening his burr. “Yer gift is perfect. You wanted to give me joy. Thank you, lass.”
“You’re welcome,” she whispered against his chest.
“You should know…” He rubbed a hand across her back. Back and forth. Working up the courage to say the next words. “Thinking about my da … talking about him. It’s hard for me. It’s been ten years, but I still miss him, you ken?”
A damp warmth spread across his shirt.
“Lass, are you crying?” He tilted her chin up so he could see her face. “What’s amiss?”
“This,” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks before pressing her wet palms to his face. “This is what’s been missing. I told you I wasn’t angry about the video anymore, and I’m not. I’m upset because I wanted you to talk to me, to let me in. I want you to tell me how you feel.”
“I doona always know how I’m feeling myself,” he admitted ruefully, covering her hands with his, pinpricks of emotion stinging his eyes. “It’s all jumbled.”
“Well.” She pulled their hands down, fingers laced, and placed them over his heart. “What are you feeling now?”
He cleared his throat. “That I love you. That I want to be with you.”
“I want that too,” she said.
“Oh,” he exhaled, “that’s good.” He settled deeper into the couch cushions. She curled into him, and as they fell into a comfortable silence, he relished the simple pleasure of the warm weight of her body pressed against him. He threaded his fingers through her mass of chestnut curls. He’d missed touching her, feeling her.
She shifted, looking up at him. “As this is Christmas Eve,” she began.
“Aye?” He traced the column of her throat.
“I was wondering if you might have another present for me.” She dropped her gaze to his lap, c
heek curving in that wicked way he loved so well.
“You’re a greedy wench,” he teased, a rogue eyebrow quirking.
“I am,” she confirmed, tugging on the zipper of his trousers. “Now be still so I can unwrap my present.”
* * *
Late that night, as Christmas Eve gave way to Christmas Day, Logan stood at Cassie’s bedroom window, watching a gentle snowfall blanket the city street below. Behind him, Cassie lay in bed, her deep even breathing providing a rhythmic background to his thoughts. He glanced back, taking in the lovely sight of her dark curls spread across the pillow. She was on her side, facing away from him, the lush slope of her hip and shoulder an erotic landscape beneath the pale sheets.
Bare feet padding silently across the shadowed floor, he got into bed and snuggled under the covers next to her, wrapping his arms tight around her, his body cradling hers, chin resting on her shoulder. “It’s Christmas Day,” he whispered into her hair.
“Hmm?” she mumbled sleepily.
“Talk to me, lass.” He pressed his lips to the soft warm nape of her neck.
“About what?” Cassie yawned.
“About your future. A new year will be dawning soon. What do you want?”
“I want the dream,” she murmured.
“Aye?” He nipped her ear lobe. “What’s that?”
She rolled over and faced him, eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep. “Two kids, a dog, and a husband.”
Logan snorted with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Cassie snapped groggily, punching him.
“Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder. “That’s going to leave a mark”
“Good.” She scowled at him.
Logan shifted on the mattress, barely missing a second encounter with her fist. “For someone who’s half-asleep, you’ve quite an arm on you.” He chuckled.
“Damn it, this is the problem with wanting a serious relationship with a man who doesn’t take anything seriously.” She struggled with the blankets and tried to sit up, but he stopped her.
“Serious relationship?” he mocked affectionately, throwing a leg over both of hers and pulling her close, so close he could see the ire darkening the molten honey of her sexy, sleepy eyes in the light from the snow-covered streetlamp outside. “You do realize you put the dog before the husband on your list?”
Her body relaxed beneath him. “Okay, that is kind of funny.”
“It is,” he agreed, placing a soft kiss in the corner of her mouth, tracing his tongue over her lips, following the curve of her blossoming smile, before dipping inside.
CHAPTER 29
THE DAY AFTER Christmas found Cassie sipping mimosas and dishing on all that happened with her best friends. Despite the snow, the five of them had managed to gather for their annual post-Christmas brunch. Even Delaney had made it into the city, though Cassie wondered if she came as much for the giant stack of carrot cake pancakes, the house special, as to see all of them.
“I think it’s romantic.” Bonnie sighed and stirred her steeping tea.
“That he went to her apartment after she wouldn’t answer his calls or texts?” Ana asked. “That’s not romantic, that’s creepy.”
“How is Loony Lorenzo anyway?” Sadie asked, cheeks pink from her second glass.
“Still in Italy, if he knows what’s good for him,” Ana said, stabbing the sausage on her plate.
“But still, to walk all the way there in this weather?” Bonnie insisted.
“Only from the train station.” Delaney smothered a bite of pancake with cream cheese icing. “That’s maybe a mile.”
“A mile and a quarter,” Cassie amended.
“Must be that hearty Highlander constitution.” Ana waggled her eyebrows.
“Wow,” Bonnie said, breaking into Cassie’s thoughts, “I don’t think Gabe would walk a mile for me, even in warm weather.”
“Come on, that’s not true. Gabe loves you. He’d do anything for you.”
Bonnie stared into her cup of tea.
“Bon?” Cassie asked gently.
When her friend didn’t answer, Cassie glanced around the table at the others. They all knew Bonnie had been hoping Gabe would finally settle on a wedding date over the winter holidays.
Sadie cleared her throat. “I’m guessing I don’t have to go shopping for a bridesmaid dress just yet, huh?”
Bonnie laughed, but Cassie heard an echo of sadness in the sound. Her heart ached for her friend.
“Fucking men.” Ana banged her fist on the table, rattling the silverware.
“Keep it down, woman,” Delaney cautioned, giving the side-eye to a family with young children at a nearby table.
“Sorry.” Ana glanced around. “This is why I prefer Disney movies. I mean, is it too much to expect a happy ending?”
Cassie nodded, adding more juice to her champagne glass. “Yep. Why do you think I read romance novels? At least I’m guaranteed that, by the end of the book, two people who love each other are definitely going to end up together. Real life makes no such promises.”
“Oh, come on,” Bonnie scoffed. “Don’t stop believing in happy endings because of what’s happening—or should I say not happening—between Gabe and me. What about you and Logan? Look at how you two are working things out.”
“Shouldn’t that be ‘Gabe and I’?”
Bonnie shot Cassie a haughty look over the rim of her teacup. “That’s for nominative pronouns, I was using the objective case.”
“Nominative?” Sadie wrinkled her pixie nose.
“Means subject.” Bonnie waved an impatient hand at Sadie before turning back to Cassie. “And you, stop trying to change the subject. What’s the story with Logan?”
“I’m not sure.” Cassie squirmed.
“What do you want it to be?” Ana prodded, waving her hands over her waffle as if it was a crystal ball. “What do you see in your future?”
Cassie stared at Ana’s plate. Logan had asked her pretty much the same exact question. In another place or time, she might have been more careful with her answer, but in the velvet darkness of her bed, which finally felt right again with him in it, she’d let her secret hopes spill out across the pillow.
And though he’d laughed at her, even teased her about the whole dog coming first thing, he hadn’t argued with her. There were no explosions. No heated denials. No protests that a future for them wasn’t possible.
It was possible. Cassie touched her wrist, fingers tracing the charms on the bracelet now sporting four memories she’d made with Logan. She wanted the opportunity to make more memories with him. “What I want,” Cassie said, meeting the expectant stares of her friends, “is to get my happily ever after.” She reached out and grabbed Bonnie’s hand. “I want us all to get our happily ever after.”
* * *
A few days later, Cassie met Therese in a coffee shop on the Magnificent Mile. Most of the office was out for the holidays, with ChiChat running pre-taped shows all week. It was strange seeing her boss somewhere outside of the gleaming office, almost like spying a teacher at the grocery store.
Therese ordered gingerbread lattes for both of them, shaking her head when Cassie started to dig in her purse for her wallet. “My treat.”
“Thanks.” Cassie sipped her drink, singeing her tongue on a bit of foam.
Therese wrapped an elegant hand around the handle of her mug. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
“I’ve jotted down some ideas…” Cassie dug her notebook out of her purse and slid it across the café table.
Therese looked over the notes as she took a long pull on her latte, seemingly unaffected by the insane temperature of the drink. Cassie was beginning to wonder if the woman was human.
“Excellent.” Her boss nodded as she turned the last page. She flashed Cassie a smile. “And your timing is perfect. The disparity between how men and women are treated in the sporting world is a hot topic.”
“I thought so too.” Cassie flipped to a new page in her noteboo
k. “I’m planning to start with some local stories.” She started to read off the notes she’d taken about her mom’s uniform fiasco.
“Cassie, relax,” Therese interrupted. “We can discuss those details later. I’ve been thinking about your ‘Coming Out of the Book Closet’ feature.” Her boss leaned forward, striking cheekbones a perfect blend of light and shadow in the stark glow of winter sunlight spilling in from the café windows.
“How do you feel about extending the segment all the way through January? I want you to line up interviews from the time taping picks up again next week until the start of February sweeps.” Therese paused. “And for sweeps, there’s a strong chance I can land you an interview with the Big O.”
Finally able to handle the heat of her drink, Cassie choked on her first sip. “Wait, the Big O? As in the now retired Queen of Chicago Talk Shows?”
“That’s the one,” Therese confirmed. “You know how she’s always championed books, and this new idea of yours is right up her alley. Maybe I’ll see about booking the Williams sisters too.” Therese tapped her finger against the handle of her mug. “That would make a fabulous segue to the sports exposé.”
Cassie was still trying to process the first part of what her boss had said. She was going to interview the Big O … it was inconceivable. Cassie gripped her mug in both hands.
“Well, I’m off to Key West for a few days. I’ll see you in the office next week. Happy New Year!” As if she hadn’t just delivered the biggest news of Cassie’s professional life, Therese gathered her purse and exited the café, exquisitely tailored Burberry coattails flapping in the brisk wind of a Chicago winter.
CHAPTER 30
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re hosting the HoB party tonight.” Cassie leaned against her kitchen counter on the morning of New Year’s Eve, watching him pour a cup of coffee he’d just brewed.
“H-O-B?” Logan echoed, glancing over his shoulder at her.
Getting Hot with the Scot--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 30