Carmen laughed with him, not looking worried.
Bobby Hayes was an up-and-coming star. His music was all over YouTube. He was one of the stars Roadside Records was chasing. So were other labels, from what Carmen had told me. He was determined to sign him.
Bobby stepped forward and shook Logan’s hand. “That was fucking inspiring, man. Those songs, I mean…wow. I don’t have words.”
Logan looked shocked, but he acknowledged Bobby’s praise with a tilt of his head and returned his handshake. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Carmen clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Next week for sure, right?”
“It’ll have to be the evening or early morning. I’m teaching all week.”
Carmen nodded in agreement. “You name the time and place, we’ll be there.”
Logan frowned. “We?”
“I asked to be part of your meeting, Logan.” Bobby spoke up. “If that’s okay with you. I’m very interested in what Carmen has to offer you, and I’d like to get my two cents in.”
“It’s fine with me,” Logan agreed. “I’ll call you on Monday, Carmen.”
They shook hands again and moved back to their table. I watched them go as Logan sat down. I met his gaze with a grin. “I think they’d like to have that meeting right now,” I told him. “Bobby looked as if he was going to jump out of his skin.”
He hummed. “I know. Odd.”
I disagreed. “No. Inspired.”
He moved closer. “The only one I want to inspire is you. You ready to leave?”
I glanced over at Brianna. She was so deep in conversation with Trevor, she hadn’t even noticed Bobby and Carmen. He was so focused on her, he was oblivious as well. They had enjoyed Logan’s set, but once it was over, they only had eyes for each other. I knew she wouldn’t care if I left, but I felt bad since I came with her.
“You don’t have another set?”
“No, I only agreed to one. My voice won’t take two, and I need it to teach next week.”
“Okay.”
He sensed my reticence and caught Trevor’s attention. “We’re going to get something to eat. You good here, or you want to come with?”
“I’m good here,” Trevor replied.
Brianna winked at me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Trevor assured me.
Logan stood and pulled me to my feet. “Great.” He grabbed his guitar case with a grin. “Behave, you two.”
They laughed and waved us off.
We headed to the diner, Logan’s arm wound tight around my waist. I could feel the tension in his body. The controlled power of his muscles. It was evident in his grip, his long strides, and the way he held himself. We sat down in the diner, Macy bringing over coffee without being asked. She smiled at Logan.
“The usual, hon?”
He nodded and looked at me. I ordered the same, knowing whatever I didn’t eat, he would. He sipped his coffee and sat back with a sigh, his eyes shut.
I observed him for a moment, then rested my elbows on the table, tracing the back of his hand with my finger. “You don’t enjoy that?” I asked quietly. “Being up onstage, the attention?”
His lips quirked, but his eyes remained closed. “That obvious?”
“You were amazing. You are so talented.”
He hunched forward, opening his eyes and meeting my questioning gaze. “I love writing songs. I enjoy singing to a few people. I find larger groups overwhelming, if I’m being honest.”
“Do you always sing and leave right away?” I had noticed he only spoke with a few people, didn’t do an encore, and we had left out the back, avoiding most of the crowd.
“Usually.” He paused. “I can’t do two sets. Or, let me clarify. I can, but I would suffer the next day. I had throat trouble when I was younger and had surgery. There were some complications, and I’ve had to learn to live within the boundaries they recommended.”
I clasped his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “It happens. I’ve gotten past it. It left me with this rougher edge to my voice, which is great when I sing, but I can’t do it for prolonged periods or I risk losing it.”
I was horrified. “But you sing to me every night! You need—”
He cut me off with his finger on my mouth. “I croon, Lottie. It’s different from belting out song after song to a large room. I don’t overstretch my voice when I sing to you. That’s why I stand where I do. I use the natural acoustics in the station to let my voice carry. And that’s a short period. Not two-hour concerts.”
“So, that is what stops you from pursuing a career in music?”
“Not just that. I love seeing people’s reactions to my music, but I enjoy the process and the arrangement more than singing it myself—unless it’s for you. I don’t crave the spotlight or the attention.”
Our food arrived, and he dove in, picking up his burger and taking a huge bite, chewing it slowly. “God, that’s good.”
I chuckled and added some ketchup to my plate. I loved watching him eat. I loved watching him sing. I pretty much loved watching him do anything.
I had to avert my eyes as I realized I probably loved it so much because Brianna was right. I was falling in love with him. It didn’t matter if it had been a week, a month, or even a year. My feelings were real and solid. And I wasn’t sure how to handle that.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Logan asked, his voice concerned. “Are you okay, Lottie?”
I was frozen, staring at him as the truth hit me. He leaned across, wiping a finger under my eye. “Why are you crying?”
I shook my head and reached for a napkin. “The onions are strong,” I fibbed.
“They’re fried. Try again. What is it, sweetheart?”
His endearment rocked me. The soft caress of his voice, the way he was watching me with concern. He made me feel as if I mattered.
I swiped at my cheek. “Nothing. Just so damn proud of you.” I picked up my burger, changing the subject. I wasn’t revealing my feelings over burgers at a diner. “And Carmen? What was he talking about?”
He told me about their phone call. He frowned as he dragged his fries through the ketchup and chewed them. “Did you tell him about the gig?”
“No. I haven’t spoken to him since our meeting.”
“Huh,” was his reply.
I couldn’t help but tease him. “He sought you out all on his own, Logan. No help from me.”
He rolled his eyes and pushed my plate closer. “Whatever, woman. Eat. I need you strong. I’ve got plans for you, and you’re going to have to keep up.”
“That sounds promising.”
He winked. “It will be.”
Chapter 16
Lottie
After we ate, we walked. Logan seemed restless and edgy—unable to settle. There was a light snowfall, and the streets were deserted. We strolled, not talking, simply enjoying the time. I felt him relax, his grip loosening, his footsteps not as rushed. We finally ended up back outside my building, and I hurried up the steps, anxious for warmth. I hadn’t wanted to admit to Logan the boots I was wearing weren’t meant for long walks, nor was my coat as warm as what I would choose for an extended stroll. He followed, quiet and seemingly reflective, his mood confusing me.
I had stopped at one point, staring at a small Tudor-style house. They were well ahead of the game, their Christmas lights bright in the darkness. “What a pretty place,” I murmured, admiring the lines of the house and the leaded windows that twinkled with the lights.
Logan stared at it. “You like that? It’s not fancy or new.”
“I don’t want fancy or new. It looks homey. I bet the rooms are filled with all sorts of hidden alcoves and weird angles.” I glanced around. “The neighborhood is quiet as well.”
“It is. I walk here a lot.”
We kept going, but I glanced over my shoulder, something about the house beckoning to me. I planned to walk past it a
gain another time.
In my condo, I shrugged off my coat and ran my hands up and down my arms to warm them. Logan watched me, then cursed, yanking off his coat and boots and lifting me into his arms. I gasped at the unexpected move.
“What are you doing?”
He strode down the hall and into the bathroom, setting me on the counter. Wordlessly, he pulled off my boots, lifted me to my feet, and yanked my dress over my head, making short work of my lacy undergarments.
He turned on the shower, checking the temperature, and indicated the steaming water. “Get in.”
I shuddered as the heat hit my skin, gasping when Logan stepped in, crowding me with his body. He rubbed at my arms briskly, muttering.
“I forgot you weren’t dressed for a walk, Lottie. You should have reminded me.”
“I was enjoying it.”
He dropped to his knees, stroking my legs. “And now you’re frozen.”
“You’re doing a good job of warming me up,” I murmured.
He glanced up, his eyes dark. He stood, crowding me against the wall, his body teeming with tension, his skin hot against my cold.
“Do you know why I needed to go for a walk, Lottie? Stop and eat before coming here?”
“You were hungry?” I guessed. “Restless from performing?”
He inched closer, his chest melding to mine. He slid his hands down my arms, entwining our fingers and lifting my hands over my head, imprisoning them there. He stroked my neck with one finger, making me shiver, this time with desire and not cold.
“I was out of control. If we’d come right here, I would have fucked you. Hard. I would have taken my pleasure, and I’m not sure I would have cared about yours.” He lowered his head to my neck, licking up the skin, biting at the juncture, his teeth teasing just short of pain, making me squirm against him. “I can’t do that to you.”
“I don’t believe that. You always give me pleasure,” I objected, then whimpered as he began to trail his tongue along my collarbone and cupped my breast with his large hand, strumming the nipple.
“I was wound too tight,” he said. “It was too much. The crowd. You. Carmen. The reaction to my music. I needed an outlet. I still do.”
“Use me,” I begged, feeling desire sweep through me. I undulated against him, his cock hard and trapped between us.
“I don’t want to use you,” he protested. “You mean too much.”
I knew one thing he wouldn’t be able to resist. No matter what else he was feeling, his protectiveness for me was always paramount. He needed to care for me. I knew this with a certainty beyond belief. I slid my leg up to his hip, opening myself to him. He groaned as he curved his hand around my thigh.
“Warm me up, Logan. Fuck me. Please,” I added breathlessly. “I need you.”
I cried out as he lifted me, grasping my legs, and with one snap of his hips, slammed into me. I felt full, the angle intense, and his cock stretching me in the most delicious, aching way. He began to move—fierce, short thrusts. He covered my mouth, his lips hard and demanding. His tongue mimicked his hips, his body trapping me against the tile, his hands holding my hips tight. My nipples brushed against his rough chest hair, chafed and sensitive, his nipple ring heating in the warmth of the water. He hit my clit with every thrust, driving me wild with pleasure. He made low, guttural sounds in his throat, his chest vibrating as he took me. The steam swirled around us, the heat building. I was on fire, the cold of a short while ago long forgotten. Everything narrowed down to our bodies, moving as one, the ecstasy building between us so intense it edged on pain. I whimpered as I surrendered, my body locking down, clenching around him. I screamed into his mouth as my release rushed over me, burning and strong. I gripped his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin as my orgasm kept going, one sliding into another as he broke from my mouth, cursing and chanting my name. The grip he had on my hips tightened, and he dropped his head back, a long, satisfied groan escaping from his chest. I went limp in his arms, unable to form words, thoughts, or even hold on. He thrust twice more, then stilled, but he continued to hold me. His heartbeat was a rapid staccato in his chest, his breathing fast and harsh. Both matched mine.
For a moment, there was only the sound of the rushing water and our heavy breathing. He lifted his head and kissed me, his mouth now gentle.
“Tell me you’re all right.”
I opened one eye and peered at him. “I’m better than all right, Logan.”
He pulled from me, and I grimaced as he left my body, feeling empty. He set me on my feet and washed me, his touch tender, his voice low as he whispered unneeded apologies, mingled with kisses, words of adoration, and gentle ministrations. He cleaned himself quickly, then turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around me. He snagged another one and tucked it around his waist.
“You, ah, might want to wash your face,” he chuckled, touching my cheek. “It’s a bit…” He trailed off.
I looked in the mirror and had to giggle. My mascara was smudged under my eyes and my kiss-proof lipstick smeared on my cheek.
“I guess kiss-proof and fuck-proof are two different things,” I chuckled and reached for the makeup remover, making fast work of the mess. I rinsed the cloth and turned to Logan. “Better now that I don’t look like a drunken goth?”
He cupped my cheek and brushed his lips over my face, kissing my nose, cheeks, forehead, then pressing his lips to mine.
“I would fuck you no matter what, Lottie. You are beautiful to me every single moment of the day.” Then his voice deepened. “And it was more than just fucking.”
I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. “Logan, it’s okay to let yourself go with me. I know I’m, ah, more to you. I like making love, making out, dancing, touching, and yes, fucking you. All of it because it’s you. Because it’s us.”
He cupped my face and kissed me, his lips gentle, his voice reverent.
“I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you, Lottie. But know I will never take that gift for granted.”
“Me either,” I whispered. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Ever.”
He enveloped me in his arms, holding me tight. I nestled close, hoping this never changed.
I knew right then, I was in love with Montgomery Logan. Every single side of him, I adored.
And I wanted to keep him.
Logan and I spent Saturday together. We lazed around the bedroom in the morning, went ice-skating in the afternoon, and I made dinner. It was simple—spaghetti with a marinara sauce, but it was delicious, and it was nice to have dinner with him in the condo. We watched a movie, then I read for a bit while Logan strummed on his guitar, furiously writing in a notebook as he created a lovely melody that made me hum. I fell asleep listening to him play, and he carried me to bed, only waking when he crawled in beside me hours later. He pulled me back to his chest, kissing my shoulder, and I fell back asleep in the cradle of his arms.
Sunday morning, his phone rang early, and he walked down the hall, talking low and fast. When he came back to the bedroom, he pulled on his jeans, frowning. “Sorry, Lottie, I gotta go.”
I leaned back against the headboard, admiring how his muscles flexed and moved as he dressed. “Other girlfriend demanding your time?” I asked lightly.
He bent over me with a hard kiss. “Yep. The teacher I was supposed to cover for next term had her baby about an hour ago. I’m meeting the principal to go over things.” He chuckled. “And then apparently, going to the hospital to meet with Cindy. She insists she has to talk to me about her class.”
“Wow, that’s dedication.”
He tugged his shirt over his head and sat on the edge of the bed. He rested on his arms, caging me between them. “I’m sorry I have to go—I wanted to spend another day with you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yesterday was one of the nicest days I’ve had in a long time, just being with you.”
“Me too. But I understand.”
“The next little while mi
ght be sort of crazy.” He frowned. “Especially this week.” He glanced down at his hands. “I hate the thought of not seeing you every day.”
I cupped his cheek, running my fingers over his beard. “We can text and call.”
He met my eyes, looking upset. “I might not be there at night, playing for you.”
“Logan,” I breathed. “I am not your responsibility. It’s not your job to make sure my day is okay.”
He held my hand against his skin, the heat burning into my palm. “Yes, it is,” he insisted. “Everything about you is my business now, Lottie.” He paused, searching my eyes. “I love you.”
His words exploded in my brain. They settled into my fractured heart, mending and stitching it together. Such simple words—small and overused by many—but directed toward me, by this man, they were significant.
Life-changing.
He smiled at my silence. “I know it’s early, and I don’t expect you to feel the same, Lottie. I just… I just wanted you to know. Maybe it will help some days knowing, no matter what else, I’m close and I’m always thinking about you.” He studied me. “Maybe if you knew someone wanted to be your happiness, it might make the day easier.”
He started to get up, but I stopped him. I couldn’t let him leave not knowing. Thinking he’d given his heart to me and I’d rejected him. Tears pooled in my eyes at the enormity of this moment.
He looked at me, concerned. “What? What is it?”
I sniffed. “Aside from Brianna, no one has said that to me since Josh died.”
He grimaced, but I silenced him with a finger pressed to his lips. “You have no idea what it does to me to hear you say those words, Logan.” I swallowed. “Because I love you too.”
His expression morphed from worried to disbelief, then to happiness. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Montgomery Logan. It’s fast, it’s crazy, but it’s true. I love you.”
He pulled me to him, surrounding me with his warmth. He held me, whispering quiet words of love and adoration. Assuring me we would work it all out. That time didn’t matter—what did was the rightness of us.
Heart Strings Page 15