by Carrie Elks
He’d met Paris five years ago, when he was looking at opening his first restaurant and needed investors. They’d been introduced by a mutual friend and they’d hit it off immediately. It was crazy really. She was a trust fund baby born and bred in exclusive Beacon Hill. Had been to prep school followed by Radcliffe and then a year traveling Europe.
He, on the other hand, had scraped his way through college thanks to a small scholarship and financial aid. He hadn’t planned on that. An accident at sixteen had ended the football career he’d planned to share with his brother. His vision of a full sports scholarship followed by a lustrous career had disappeared in one horrible collision followed by an eight hour surgery.
A different man might have looked at Cam’s glittering career and wondered what could have been. But Logan didn’t have time for that. He was too busy trying to rise to the top of Boston’s restaurant industry. As though he needed to prove to himself he was still somebody, even if he wasn’t the somebody he thought he was going to be.
“I’ve got a contact on the zoning committee. I’ll see if they’re free for dinner tonight to help that issue along,” Paris said, tipping her head to the side. “You look tired. Have you been getting any sleep?”
Her voice had the short clipped vowels native to New England. She’d teased him about his southern twang when they’d first met, and he’d teased her right back. Maybe that’s why they worked together so well. Neither of them took themselves too seriously.
And they both worked like dogs.
“We had the inspectors stop in at Touch of Class yesterday,” Logan told her, referring to their restaurant in Back Bay. “I want to make an action plan to address their concerns.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Was it bad?”
“Nah. But I don’t want to give them any reason to come back. It’s disruptive. That place is fully booked for the next six weekends. I want the staff to concentrate on the customers.”
Paris walked around the table and put her hands on his shoulders, digging her fingers in to loosen the knots. “You need to relax.”
“I’m okay,” he told her. “I’ll probably go to the gym later. Box it out.”
“Well it’s either that or sex.” Paris laughed, tossing her long, sleek ponytail over her shoulder. “You’re just as bad as I am. Though I’ve got my eye on this guy from Beacon Hill.” She glanced at her watch, then brushed her lips against his cheek. “Don’t work too hard. I need you alive for our next project. There’s this amazing warehouse in South End that’ll be coming on the market soon. They’ve promised to let us see it first. It’s the perfect location for the next restaurant.”
He felt a little tingle in his spine. They were expanding aggressively, but he liked that. Growing their empire made him tick. It was who he was, what he did.
For the past five years it had defined him.
“Send me the details when you have them,” he told her with a nod.
“Of course.” She gave him a grin. “Now go and sort out that customs problem. I’ll talk to you later.” She blew him a kiss and walked out of the door, pulling it closed behind her.
Logan collapsed back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled. For the past few weeks he’d felt on edge, and it had nothing to do with the restaurant or the electric or even the damn customs problem. He dealt with that stuff every single day. He was good at what he did – one of the best, and that wasn’t boasting. It was just the reality of working eighty-plus hours a week in the industry he loved.
He let his head fall back, his eyelids closing as he took a deep breath. And in the darkness of his vision he saw her. Courtney. The way she’d looked beneath him in her bed. With her dark curls spilling out across the sheets and her piercing blue eyes trained on him. Almost immediately the strange twist in his gut relented, and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed.
She was fresh air. The light to the shadows of his life. Maybe that’s what he needed to make himself feel complete again.
A night with the country girl who made him think life could sometimes be simple. If only he’d let it.
Logan pulled the phone from his pocket and quickly tapped out a message.
I’ll be in town the weekend after next. Are you free to meet?
It took five minutes for the reply to come back. Five minutes of him shifting in his seat and trying to concentrate on the laptop in front of him. And as soon as his phone buzzed, he snatched it up and stared at the screen.
Yes I am.
Thank god. Maybe now he’d finally get some work done.
Courtney was sorting through seed catalogs in the main barn when the storm hit. For the past two weeks she’d been working like a horse, starting with the chickens at first light, followed by grading the corn, and calling their customers to make sure they had their orders in. Then there were all the jobs they never had time to do during growing season. Repairing fences, buying new seeds and livestock, as well as selling those they didn’t need any more.
And of course there was the paperwork. There was always so much of that. It had been Mary’s job when Courtney had first arrived on the farm, but over the years she’d slowly taken it over, liaising with the USDA and the IRS and every other governmental body who wanted something from them.
Creek Edge Farm was small in comparison to some of the vast fields surrounding them, the ones owned by conglomerates who farmed them to the bare bones. Creek Edge couldn’t compete with the prices they offered on their grain, any more than they could afford the kind of machinery they had. Last year, they’d bought a new crop sprayer – a huge tractor-like machine that Ellis was driving out in the freshly-reaped fields at the moment, spraying weed killer to get rid of the growth that always seemed to come no matter how hard they tried to fight it.
That sprayer had cost almost three hundred thousand dollars. They’d used up the last of the insurance money she’d gotten after Shaun had died, and had to take out two additional loans, but it had been worth it. And Ellis had been like a kid with a new toy since it arrived. It had been good to see him smile again.
The fact was, they’d all been struggling since Shaun died. He’d been the strongest of them all, laboring with his dad in the fields from dusk until dawn. Ellis wasn’t getting any younger, and as hard as Courtney worked, she’d never be able to do as much as Shaun had. Didn’t stop her from trying though.
A loud clap of thunder blasted through the air. She looked up from the catalog and frowned. In the fall, the weather could turn from a heat wave to a tropical storm in minutes. Their proximity to the mountains in the west caused them to have their own ecosystem. Hot and humid in the summer, cold and snowy in the winter, with spring and autumn never really knowing what to do.
She was wearing an old pair of jeans and a black tank she’d pulled on before the sun had even come up this morning, and the abrupt change in weather made her skin prickle into goose bumps as she ran outside to make sure there was no equipment in the yard. But before she could even look around the clouds opened up. Sheets of rain crashed down onto the warm concrete, and soaking her to the skin in seconds.
Ellis came out of the main farmhouse, pulling a raincoat on. “I left the sprayer in the field when I took a break,” he called out over the sound of the downpour. “I should bring it in.”
She took a look at his frail body, then shook her head. “I’ll get it,” she called out. “Do you have the keys?”
“Left them in the cab.” He pressed his lips together. “You sure?”
“Of course.” There was no way she was letting him get soaked. And she could run faster than him.
The sky lit up with another fork of lightning, followed by rattling thunder. She ran through the open gates to the field, her tennis shoes sinking into the soft soil, with dark clumps of mud caking against the cotton. By the time she made it to the sprayer her clothes were clinging to her skin, heavy with rain and causing her to shiver from the cold. She shook her head like a dog, then climbed into the cab, grittin
g her teeth to stop them from chattering as she started up the ignition and slowly drove the sprayer back to the metal pole barn where they kept all their equipment.
Water poured down the windshield as she steered the huge machine through the open gates and into the main concrete yard. Ellis was waiting for her inside the barn, giving her a smile as she parked the sprayer next to the tractor, and climbed down from the cab.
“Here,” he said, giving her a towel. “You’re soaked. Go into the house. Mary will make you a warm drink.”
“I’m fine,” Courtney said, trying to stop the shivers from wracking her body. “I’ll help you finish up here. Are the animals okay?”
“The sheep are spooked, but they always are. The rest are all sheltering in their stalls. Now go inside and dry off before you catch a hell of a cold.”
“Okay.” She smiled at him, rubbing the rain from her arms with the old towel he’d given her. It was sweet that he worried about her health. It wasn’t often that anybody cared for her.
But when she made it home later that evening, her head pounding, her body shivering even though it was warm and cozy inside, she realized the hot drink and steaming shower hadn’t stopped her from getting sick after all.
The day before Logan Hartson was due back in town.
Chapter Five
Courtney couldn’t eat anything at all the next day. Even the thought of food made her want to hurl. She was laying on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her, hugging a box of tissues. If she wasn’t feeling so horrible, she’d be feeling guilty that she wasn’t working today.
And even worse, Logan hadn’t replied to her text letting him know she was sick and they’d have to cancel. Maybe he was angry. It was strange how the thought of not seeing him made her empty stomach gripe even harder. She had no idea when he was due back in town again.
The sound of a car engine rumbled over the sound of her sneezes, and she tried to turn on the sofa to look out of the window.
A police cruiser was outside. Carl’s. His parents had probably called to tell him she was sick. Courtney sighed at the thought of having to face him like this.
He rapped at the door and she called out to let him know it was unlocked, too exhausted to get off the sofa and be hospitable in her usual way.
“Hey,” he said, frowning as he closed the door behind him. “You should keep this locked. You don’t know who might try their luck and break in.”
“It normally is.”
His gaze flickered over to her. “Mom told me you were sick. I thought I’d stop by and see if you need anything.” He walked over, his brow still pulled down as he touched her brow. “You’re burning up. Are you sure you shouldn’t be in bed?”
Courtney picked up a tissue and blew her nose loudly. “Probably,” she agreed. “But I couldn’t sleep up there. Thought I’d come down here and make myself a pot of hot tea.” She threw the tissue into the trash can next to her, then pulled the blanket back up. She was wearing an old pair of pajamas and nothing else. From the way Carl was staring at her chest, she felt exposed.
“I could stop by after my shift,” he suggested. “Bring you some take out or something.” His lips curled up. “There’s a new Italian place down the highway. I hear they do an amazing chicken parm.”
Her stomach turned over. “I don’t think I can eat anything. I’ll just sleep. Thank you anyway.”
He sat down on the chair opposite the couch.
“Sorry,” she croaked out. “I should have offered you a seat.”
He grinned. “It’s okay. I figure being sick lets you off. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I’ve got thirty minutes left on my break.”
“Honestly, you should leave me alone. I’m sick, grumpy, and all I’m going to do is sleep it off. I’ve got some medicine. I’ll just take that and feel sorry for myself.” She let her head fall back against the sofa. “Hopefully I’ll be well enough for work on Monday.”
“You shouldn’t work so hard. That’s probably half of the problem.” Carl leaned forward, resting his elbows on his navy-covered thighs. “You should let somebody look after you.” His voice dropped. “Somebody like me.”
Courtney swallowed hard, then immediately regretted it. Pain radiated through her throat. “Carl, I…”
He lifted a hand. “No, hear me out. Please.” There wasn’t a hint of humor on his face as his gaze met hers. “You work too hard trying to keep this place going. And Mom and Dad are getting older. They can’t keep doing this forever either. Things aren’t going to get any easier for any of you. You need to start thinking about your future.” He looked down, his brows knitting together. “About letting somebody take care of you the way Shaun would have wanted.”
Courtney’s head whirled. She didn’t want him to say it, because then it would be out in the open. It was hard enough with his side glances and unasked questions that made her feel uncomfortable as hell.
But this? This was so much worse.
“I want to be the one to take care of you. I have an apartment, a good career. And I know we’d be compatible. I think the same way Shaun did. The same way you do.” He ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip. “If you left this place, we could persuade Mom and Dad to sell. It would be easier on everybody.”
Courtney opened her mouth, but the tightness in her chest remained. “They’d be heartbroken if they had to sell the farm.” And so would she.
Carl stood and walked over to the sofa, his face soft as he lifted her feet and sat down, replacing them on his lap. It took everything she had not to recoil from his touch.
“They’ll listen to us. They always do.” He gave her a half smile. “That’s why we make such a good team.”
“You’re Shaun’s brother. I couldn’t…” Her voice cracked. The thought of being with him made her stomach lurch. “We couldn’t, Carl. Not even if I was ready to start a new relationship, which I’m not. It’s just wrong. People would talk.”
“I can wait until you’re ready,” he told her, leaning close.
“I could never ask your parents to sell this place,” she told him. “It’s their life. They already lost Shaun. It would kill them to lose the farm, too.” That’s one of the reasons she was still here. Paying penance, trying to keep this place afloat for them. Mary and Ellis were like parents to her, and she couldn’t let them down.
“You don’t have to make a decision now.” He ran his finger down the sole of her right foot. “Just think about it. You’ll see I’m right. I’d make you happy, Courtney.” He cleared his throat. “I know that Shaun wasn’t always…” he trailed off, as though trying to find the right words. “Good to you. I heard the arguments. I’m not like that, I promise you. I’d never hurt you.”
He released her foot and stood, raking his hand through his hair. “I should get back to work. But call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay,” she managed to croak.
“You sure you don’t want me to bring you anything later?” he asked. “Or I could come over tomorrow. It’s my day off.”
She shook her head quickly. “No. I’m just going to rest. But thank you.”
He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, the aroma of coffee wafting from his breath. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, wishing this all away.
“Feel better soon. And don’t forget to lock the damn door,” he told her.
Moments after he closed the front door firmly behind him, her eyes began to droop. She submitted to the exhaustion. Welcomed it, even, because if she was sleeping she didn’t need to think about what a mess her life was becoming.
She’d beat herself up when she was feeling better.
“Hey, do you ever check your phone?” Paris said, grabbing Logan’s arm as he walked out of the restaurant. His car was parked on the sidewalk, his overnight bag safely stashed in the trunk. It was almost two in the afternoon and he had exactly an hour until boarding. Even with VIP parking it was going to be tight.
“Sorry,” Logan said, shrug
ging his suit jacket off. He pulled the passenger door open and hung it on the hook above the window. “My meeting with the contractors ran over, and I’m late for the airport. Is it important?”
Her brows dipped. “You’re going to the airport? Why?”
He loosened his tie and circled his neck. “Because I’m heading home for the weekend.”
“But I’ve arranged a meeting with the events coordinator for tomorrow. To plan out the opening celebration. And I thought we could take a look at the new place in South End on Sunday.” She tipped her head to the side. “What’s so important about Nowheresville anyway? I thought you hated that place.”
“It’s where my family is.”
Paris let out a sigh. “Cam isn’t there, though. Doesn’t he have a game on Sunday? Won’t you miss it?”
“I’ll be back for the game. And I’ll be working Sunday night and all next week. It’s just two nights, Paris, and I’ve arranged cover at the restaurants.” He shook his head. “I have no idea why I’m explaining myself to you.”
“Because we’re supposed to be a team, Logan. We both know this industry isn’t a part time job. And it never has been for you. You’re always working, the same way I always am.” The corner of her lip pulled down. “But recently… I don’t know, it’s like you’re having some kind of mid-life crisis or something. And we both know you’re too young for that. What the hell is in Hartson’s Creek that’s pulling you back?”
He pictured Courtney laying naked on her bed, her dark curls everywhere as he ran his rough hands up her thighs.
“Two of my brothers are there. And my nephews. I want to see them.”
“You’ve never liked kids,” she pointed out. “Neither of us have. How many times have we talked about that over a bottle of Macallan? That’s why we’re so good at this. We dedicate everything to our careers. We know that kids and family get in the way of that.” She let out a mouthful of air. “Right?”
He checked the large silver watch on his wrist. “I gotta go if I want to catch this flight. Arrange those meetings for next week and I’ll be there.”