by Gina Wilkins
“I disagree. You’ve done an excellent job with your business, and I’m impressed with how much you’ve grown it since you bought it from Lula Coopersmith.”
No compliment he could have given her would have pleased her more. She beamed at him. “Thank you, Logan.”
Still frowning a bit, he nodded. “Just stating facts.”
And then, as if concerned that they were straying a bit too closely to sentimental territory, he added brusquely, “As long as you’re not trying to turn the inn into the Taj Mahal or Buckingham Palace, of course.”
“You’re starting on that again?” Trying not to grin, she shook her head. “Don’t make me complain to Kinley that you’re not fully cooperating with a client.”
With one of his rare laughs, Logan stood and offered her a hand. “You’re threatening to get me into trouble with my sister?”
Now she was the one to laugh as she allowed him to boost her to her feet, then slipped her arms around his waist. “I have much more effective weapons in my persuasion arsenal than threats,” she said in her sultriest voice, pressing her body against his and looking up at him through her lashes.
She was rewarded with another flash of molten gold from his narrowed eyes just before his mouth covered hers.
She loved kissing him here in the sunshine with the wind whipping their hair, birds singing around them, the beautiful panorama spread below them. Loved having him all to herself, not worrying about who might see them together, feeling no need to keep her attraction to him under wraps. No pressure, no expectations, no questions or judgments, just two healthy single adults who enjoyed each other’s company and shared an explosive chemistry.
Voices drifted up to them from the path, and they broke apart reluctantly. With a sigh of resignation, Alexis donned her day-pack just as a group of chattering middle-aged women came into view, some of them puffing a little from the climb. She and Logan exchanged cordial nods with them, then headed back down the path to retrace their steps to their vehicles.
The keys to his pickup truck in his hand, Logan stood close by until Alexis had unlocked and opened the driver’s-side door of her car. “I’ll give you a call later this week,” he said.
She nodded. “It’s going to be a crazy week from here out. I have no appointments at the inn this week, though I’ll be there next week for final preparations for the Kempshall wedding next weekend. I’ll be home around ten most evenings, if you want to call then.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that one night. So, I had a good time this morning.”
She smiled up at him. “So did I.”
“Have a great week. And, uh, good luck at your mom’s matchup party?”
His dry, questioning tone made her smile wryly. “Good luck would be if I’m wrong about that. Maybe it’ll just be family there this time.”
She knew her expression wasn’t overly optimistic. There’d been something in her mom’s tone that had warned her to expect another maternal ambush. She would much rather spend that time relaxing with Logan, who expected nothing more from her than a good time. What more could she desire? she asked herself again as she made the solitary drive back to her rented house.
Chapter Three
“Maybe we could make it just a little bigger at this end?” Bonnie asked, critically studying her newly laid-out herb garden Friday evening. “Just to give me a little extra room for the rosemary plants.”
It was too early in the season for planting, but Logan had the raised bed she’d requested ready for the first hint of warm weather. And already she was asking for changes? “I made it exactly to your specifications,” he said irritably.
“I know, and it looks great,” she assured him hastily. “But now that I see it finished, I just thought— Never mind, it’s great. I love it, thank you.”
And now he felt like a jerk for snarling at her. With a faint sigh, he reached out to squeeze her shoulder in apology. “Just let me know what adjustments you want. There’s plenty of time to take care of it before it’s warm enough to start planting. I’ll put up fencing after you plant to keep the rabbits and deer out.”
As was typical of his softhearted youngest sister, she moved closer to him and gazed up worriedly. “Are you not feeling well, Logan? You haven’t been quite yourself today.”
He forced a reassuring smile. “Just a little grumpy. Most folks would say I’m being totally myself.”
Her answering smile was fleeting, her strikingly blue eyes still focused on his face with uncomfortable intensity. “Does your head hurt? You’ve worked so hard this week, maybe you need some rest.”
“Bonnie, really. I’m fine. I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He was uncomfortably aware that he didn’t apologize easily, but Bonnie had a knack for making him feel guilty.
“Forget about the herb bed for now,” she said briskly. “Come inside. I made a pot roast for dinner. All I have to do is warm the bread and we’ll be ready to eat.”
“I was going to spread some mulch in the east-side rose bed before calling it quits for the day.”
“You can do that later. Come eat dinner. Rest awhile. I have cherry tarts for dessert,” she added enticingly.
He groaned. “Okay, fine. I’ll eat.”
Bonnie laughed softly. “I figured the cherry tarts would get you.”
“Oh, yeah.”
His deliberately light tone seemed to set her mind somewhat more at ease, though he thought he still detected concern in her smile. He couldn’t explain why he was so grouchy this evening. His mood had deteriorated steadily all day. Maybe his sister was right and he needed a break; he’d been working almost nonstop since returning from the Tuesday-morning hike with Alexis.
As expected, he hadn’t seen Alexis since, though he’d spoken with her briefly on the phone last night. She’d been tired from a long day of meetings and paperwork and phone calls. He’d been perturbed by a long day of things going wrong—not to mention that it had been almost two weeks since he’d visited her bedroom. Those kisses on the hiking trail had been great, but decidedly frustrating.
In past months, their work had kept them apart for considerably longer than a couple of weeks, with only an occasional phone call to keep them in touch. Maybe he was getting a little spoiled because they’d had more time to spend together during the slower off-season. As the spring passed and bookings for both of them increased, they’d be lucky to get together once a month. For that matter, he never knew when they parted if they’d get together again, considering they had no commitment, no expectations. And he was good with that.
Hell, for all he knew, she could be meeting the perfect Dr. Right at her mother’s house tonight, despite what she’d said about wishing her mom would stop trying to fix her up. Alexis had repeatedly implied that she wasn’t interested in tying herself down to anyone in particular for now, at least until she’d spent a couple years making sure her business was solvent, but who knew? Maybe Dr. Right could change her mind.
Somewhat savagely, he dried his freshly washed hands on a towel in Bonnie’s guest bath, then smoothed the scowl from his face and prepared to join his sister and brother-in-law for dinner.
“You should take a vacation, Logan,” Bonnie suggested over cherry tarts a while later. “Before we get too busy with spring weddings. The grounds look great, and none of our upcoming events are so complex that Curtis and his brother-in-law can’t handle them, especially since Butch Radnor is always available for temp jobs. When we shut down for those two weeks in January so Kinley and I could take off for our honeymoons, leaving you here to watch over the place by yourself, you promised you’d take some time off after we got back.”
Those couple weeks here by himself hadn’t been so bad, actually, though there’d been a snowstorm that had dumped quite a few inches on the grounds, requiring some quick action to prevent landscape damage. He and Ninja h
ad been fine here on their own—and had been joined one night by Alexis. Taking advantage of having no family or guests at the inn to spot them together, she’d brought a bucket of chicken and a pan of homemade brownies and visited his bedroom for the first time, resulting in a few hours that still made him swallow hard when he mentally replayed them.
Mercifully unaware of the direction in which his thoughts had wandered, Bonnie continued, “If you don’t take off within the next few weeks, we’ll be well into the busy season and you won’t be able to get away for more than a few hours at a time for at least another six or seven months.”
Logan washed down a mouthful of tart glazed cherries with a sip of the coffee she’d served with it. “I don’t need a vacation.”
He saw her exchange a look with her husband before she said, “You haven’t had a vacation in at least three years, since we inherited the inn. Probably longer than that.”
“I took off to go hiking just this past Tuesday morning,” he reminded her, though he hadn’t mentioned who his companion on the hike had been.
“And you were back by midafternoon,” she retorted with a shake of her head. “That’s not enough time off to really decompress.”
“She’s not going to give up, you know,” Paul murmured over the rim of his coffee cup. “She’s afraid you’re headed for burnout.”
“I’m fine. I take time off.”
“You have gone out somewhat more during the past few months,” she acknowledged. “But an evening out with friends every week or so does not count as a vacation.”
She had no idea how much he enjoyed those evenings out with friends—especially since the friend in question was usually Alexis these days. It just seemed to have worked out that way. As a matter of fact, a couple more hours with her would go a long way toward the relaxation Bonnie was convinced he needed.
Though she was almost four years his junior, Bonnie had always been somewhat maternal in her manner toward him, especially since their mother died. The most domestic of the siblings, she loved cooking and decorating and taking care of others, which made her perfect for the general manager and chef role at Bride Mountain Inn. She’d been in the habit of fussing over him ever since a tumor in his left leg had struck him down in college, when she’d still been a senior in high school. He’d been pretty sick for a year through painful and debilitating treatments, but he had long since fully recovered. Bonnie knew that, intellectually, but there were still times when he suspected she looked at him and experienced painful memories, even though she knew he didn’t want to talk about that time. As far as he was concerned, it was all in the past. No need to relive it.
His ordeal had left him more reserved than he’d been before, more prone to be somewhat of a loner—and a great deal more skeptical of promises and expressions of loyalty from anyone outside his family. He had absolute faith that his sisters would be there for him through thick and thin, whatever happened—just as he would be for them. Anyone else...well, he’d long since decided that having no expectations was the best way to prevent being disappointed or disillusioned again.
Because he could trust his sister implicitly—and maybe because she’d softened him up with pot roast and cherry tarts—he kept his tone indulgent when he said, “I’ll let you know if I decide to take your advice. Now, I’d better head back to my place. Ninja’s going to want his evening walk. Thanks for dinner, Bon. It was delicious, as always.”
“Let me send a couple of tarts home with you for later.”
He grinned. “I won’t argue with that.”
* * *
“It was nice to meet you, Alexis,” Mark Fiorina said as he held her hand a bit too snugly in a good-night shake Friday evening. “I hope to see you again sometime?”
Turning the wish into a question made it clear he was fishing for her phone number, but she merely gave him a vague smile. “It was very nice to meet you, too, Mark,” she said.
Though he’d seemed a little dense when it came to social skills during the evening, he must have picked up on her politely worded message that she wasn’t interested in going out with him. Her mother’s latest “prospect” was pleasant enough, if a little dull, but she had no desire at all to see him again. With a nod, he took his leave of her mother’s home. Alexis intended to make her own escape almost immediately behind him.
“Honestly, Alexis, what was wrong with that one?” Paula Healey demanded from behind her daughter. Her hands were planted on her curvy hips, and her penciled brows creased beneath her salon-streaked ash-blond hair, making her bafflement clear. But then, that was the way her mother often looked at her. “He’s a good man, a successful investment banker, and you didn’t even give him your number, did you?”
“No, I did not. When are you going to stop these ridiculous attempts to fix me up with someone? I keep telling you, I’m not interested.”
Predictably, her mom’s lower lip quivered. “I just want you to be happy, Alexis. You need more in your life than work, you know.”
“I have more in my life than work. I am perfectly happy. I need you to accept that and back off, Mother.”
“I blame your father. Two nasty divorces set a terrible example for both you and your poor brother.”
Alexis didn’t even bother to point out that her mom had been involved in one of those nasty divorces, not to mention the years of acrimonious child custody fights that had followed. She knew her mother would argue that her current marriage was successful, though Alexis had always considered this one a rather calculated arrangement. Her mother, however, was the type of woman who needed to be married to feel secure, so whatever worked for her.
Alexis liked her stepdad just fine, though he was the reserved, brainy type who contributed little to a conversation unless it had to do with economics or American history. Like her mom, Duncan seemed content to be married for practical, socially advantageous purposes. They got along well, though they appeared to live almost separate lives from the same home, with different friends, different hobbies, different interests. Maybe they’d stay together, if for no other reason than because it would simply be too much trouble to split up. Maybe theirs was the best way to approach a marriage. No rosy-eyed illusions, no unrealistic expectations, no bitter disappointment when it didn’t turn out to be everything they’d dreamed of in romantic fantasies.
Yet just the thought of getting into a long-term relationship with Mark Fiorina—or any of the other men her mother had paraded in front of her—made Alexis so depressed she just wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere. She would so much rather have fun with Logan for a short time than tie herself down for years to someone who didn’t excite her at all. There was no way she was going to mention Logan to her mom, of course. Her mother would insist on knowing details and meeting him, interrogating them both, which would ruin everything. Her time with Logan was like a secret gift to herself, a private respite from all the annoyances in her life.
Even now she could let her mind drift for a moment to their kisses on the mountaintop and feel her irritation with her mom fading, letting her speak evenly. “I really should be going. I’ve got an event tomorrow and have to get an early start. I’ll just go in and say good-night to Duncan and Sean and the others before I leave.” Her brother had brought a date, and two couples who were friends of her mother’s had attended the dinner party, for a total of ten at the table. Perhaps her mom had thought the number would make her fix-up attempt less obvious. She’d been wrong, of course.
It was clear that her mom would have liked to lecture awhile longer, but Alexis had become quite skilled at evading those confrontations. Ten minutes later she was in her car and headed home, to her relief. Despite everything, she loved her mom and her brother and she was glad she lived close enough to see them a couple times a month. But she was also very glad that almost an hour’s drive separated them the rest of the time.
* *
*
Logan and Alexis finally found a chance to get together Sunday evening. He swept Alexis into his arms almost the minute he closed her door behind him. Though it had been only one day short of two weeks since his last visit, he had barely enough patience to make it to her bedroom before stripping off their clothes. He didn’t actually pop buttons or rip seams—he still maintained some self-control—but he had to admit he was made perhaps a bit clumsier than usual by his impatience.
It was a nice boost to his ego that Alexis seemed as hungry for this as he was. He felt the tremors in her hands when she tugged at the hem of his shirt, heard the catch in her breath when they were finally skin to skin, felt the pounding of her heart when he covered one warm, taut-tipped breast with his hand. He loved the way she gasped and arched when he nipped his way down her stomach to her thigh, when he strung hot, wet kisses down the inside of her leg to her knee and back up again. Savored the choked sound she made when he placed his mouth on her.
With an arousing growl of frustration, she tugged at his shoulders, pushed at him until he lay on his back, straddled him with a reckless laugh that heated his blood close to the boiling point. And when neither of them could hold out any longer, they rolled on her soft white sheets, mouths and bodies fused, their pleasure expressed in low moans and incoherent murmurs.
They were in no hurry to leave her bed afterward. Propped on one elbow, Logan rested his head in his hand and gazed down at her as he smoothed a strand of hair from her damp face. “So, now that we’ve got that out of the way...”
She laughed at his paraphrase of her comment the last time he’d visited her bedroom. “I’m surprised we didn’t break the bed.”
He grinned briefly. “The night’s not over yet.”
She laughed again. “Sounds promising.”
They were teasing, of course. He wouldn’t spend the whole night with her. Another hour or so and he’d have to head back to the inn. Which was just as well. He’d never been much for those stilted morning-after conversations.