He swallows hard and tries to thank me, but all he gets out is, “Yeah, well…”
I step closer to him. “What are you gonna do with all of them? Will you sell them like you always dreamed of doing?”
Logan kneels down and reaches behind the couch. “Not this one. This one’s a gift. For your birthday. I’ll be a little busy on July fourth this year, so I have to give it to you earlier than I planned on.”
When he hands it to me, my tears come immediately, and I can’t hold them back.
“It’s the red rains,” I say in a sob. “By the creek.”
“You wouldn’t let me give you the painting I did all those years ago of us by the lake,” Logan says. “So I finally painted you a companion piece.”
“This is perfect,” I whisper.
With the rain all around us and the muddy bank at our bare feet, two people, two little people—younger than we actually were when this moment happened—stand, hand in hand, at the water’s edge. Looking fearless, far more so than I’ve ever felt in my life.
“I made us younger on purpose,” Logan says as he looks with me. “I did it as if…”
“As if it was the first time we ever met.” I finish his sentence for him, knowing exactly what he means.
I can still smell the rain and hear the turgid water rushing down over the town’s failed attempt to dam it up.
This is the most beautiful gift anyone’s ever given me. It’s truly priceless. My tears keep spilling out from under my eyelids.
“Hey now.” Logan leans over and kisses my head. “Don’t water the painting. I don’t know how to talk to you right now, Macey. I don’t know how to tell you that I …”
But I look into his eyes, and I know. I know what we’ve shared, what we’ve been through together, and I know that he knows it, too. And in this moment, that’s enough.
Chapter Thirty
Logan
Macey falls asleep on my shoulder.
I grab the afghan and cover us with it.
This quiet moment would be an ordinary night for most couples, but it feels extra precious somehow.
I can’t stop thinking about what Macey said earlier.
I thought about what it would be like if we…if we tried dating. I was going to ask you, but…
I never thought I could be happy in a relationship. What Macey and I had wasn’t perfect but it worked for us. We were always in sync.
And it feels like we still are.
Because I want the same thing she does—I want us to try spending more than one night a year together.
I call out her name a few times, but she’s out like a light. She always was a heavy sleeper.
And I take advantage. For the next half hour, I pour out my heart to her.
I tell her everything.
I confess that I don’t love Gigi and that we’ve never even kissed. And that the reason why we married is complicated.
I explain how Gigi’s inheritance she’s due to come into when she turns twenty in six months has an old-fashioned sexist clause in it that prevents her from taking any of the money unless she’s married. She didn’t trust any of the men in her social circle, didn’t believe they wouldn’t try to blackmail her or take advantage of the situation some other way because of her father’s power and influence. She thought they’d also want a piece of her inheritance.
I promised her I didn’t want anything other than to make sure Benjamin Henwood never has to go to jail or lose his family business. She said she could get that done, that her father was not really a bad man at heart and that he would drop his plan out of respect to a son-in-law. And that she’d get his promise in writing prior to us marrying.
She also said she’d make sure that whatever evidence and legal documents her father had put together would be permanently deleted before we end our marriage.
So, once our agreement was in place, the two of us went to work. We agreed that we’ll divorce after six months due to irreconcilable differences, and that will be the end of it.
Gigi checked the fine print of her inheritance with a private attorney to make certain she didn’t have to stay married for one minute longer than it takes her to get that money deposited into her account.
She wouldn’t have to return it due to a divorce under any circumstances other than fraud.
And fraud is what we’re committing with this marriage. That’s why we can’t breathe a word of our plan to anyone.
I brush a stray hair off Macey’s soft cheek, and she sighs in her sleep.
And I whisper, “Macey, in order for this plan to work, I have to stay quiet. Even though it’s killing me to keep it from you. Even though it breaks my heart to see the pain in your eyes every time you see me with Gigi and you think I don’t notice you looking.
“I always notice you, Macey. I always will. And I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure you don’t have to keep paying for your father’s sins.
“Just like you did for me.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Macey
I feel so good when I wake up. My body is heavy from a deep, satisfying sleep, and my mind doesn’t immediately race to the next task on my to-do list. I reach out and curl my arm around—
Logan?
I open my eyes. Logan’s underneath me. Underneath me. My head’s on his chest, and my hand’s on his bare bicep. Our legs are intertwined and—
Why am I on top of him?
I look around. We’re on his couch at the cottage. Last night’s events slowly return to my consciousness. The diary entries—God, that was intense and unplanned—and then he gave me that amazing painting.
I remember I said I was hungry, so Logan went into the kitchen, and when he returned, I had the TV on some cable channel.
“Ah, vintage Dallas.” Logan sat next to me and handed me a spoon. “My mom’s favorite old show.”
“Mama’s, too.”
I looked at the ice-cream container on his lap.
“Banana Split.” I dug into the pint. “Yum.”
“Is J.R. shot yet?” Logan asked as his spoon bumped mine while we both reached for ice cream. “Is Bobby dead? Or is he alive again?”
“Looks like it’s an early year,” I said. “None of those sacred events have happened yet.”
“Well, thank God.” He grinned. “I don’t want to miss a thing.”
An hour later, the ice cream was gone. I remember feeling so sleepy. I yawned a couple of times. And that’s the last thing I remember. We must have fallen asleep.
Fine. So that’s a fairly innocent reason for how we slept together.
But why am I completely on top of him like we’re about to have sex?
I reach over to push back a stray lock of his hair, which is all tousled. His cheeks are flushed with sleep and his long thick lashes are keeping the morning sun from waking him. He looks adorable. But I have to get up. I must get up.
The thing is, when I try, I realize he’s…aroused. Even though his eyes are closed and I don’t know if his happy state is because of me or if he’s dreaming about Gigi. Or maybe it’s just a morning thing. This is all so uncomfortable, and I can’t move because of his specific body part, and—
His phone rings in his jeans pocket.
He doesn’t budge. Trying to avoid his crotch, I reach into his pocket and pull his phone out.
Gigi’s smiling face is on the screen.
I hold the ringing phone up to Logan’s ear.
Now he wakes up.
His eyes get big when he notices me on top of him.
“Gigi,” he says into the phone. “Um…I’m just getting up. Yep. Of course I didn’t forget. I’ll be there in a half hour.”
He throws the phone onto the ground and puts his hands on my hips. “I’ll help you off me.”
The day-old stubble on his face just adds to his hotness meter, and I have to resist reaching out and running my hand over his jaw.
“The thing is—” I bite back a smile. “You must have been ha
ving a good Gigi dream because you’re effectively pinning me in place here.”
He blushes and lifts me up off of him enough that I can safely leave the couch without hurting his manhood.
“So where are you off to?” I ask him as I quickly gather up my purse and the painting.
“Brunch with Gigi’s family. The engagement party’s today, you know.”
“I know.” I can’t think of anything I’m dreading more. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
Logan walks me over to the door. “And just so there’s no mistake, my dream wasn’t about Gigi.”
“Oh.” I step backward out of his doorway. “Okay, well…”
He nods at me. “See you later.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
See you later? What the fuck does see you later mean after that confession?
I storm across Wild Ranch and over to The Cowherd.
When I walk inside, Ben’s already seated at the front booth, the one we always use to pay the bills. He’s wearing a backward baseball cap and his blue eyes flash with amusement as he looks up at me.
“You look like hell,” he says as I sit across from him.
I prop the painting next to me and toss my purse on the table just as Mr. Bingley hops up onto the seat and snuggles against me.
“Did you feed him?” I ask Ben.
“Of course. He’s just looking for more.” He glances at the painting. “What’s that?”
“Early birthday present.”
“That’s really cool,” he says as he looks more closely.
My senses are so heightened I can barely sit still. I exhale loudly and then look at my brother.
“Ben, you’re a man,” I say.
“Thanks for noticing. Yeah, I’ve been feeling very manly lately.”
His sarcasm barely registers. “So as a man, do you like—say things out loud and not think twice about it? I mean, really—is that just what guys do?”
“Something happen with Logan?” Ben says. “Just a wild guess.”
I sigh. “I slept with him.”
Now his mouth drops open. “What?”
I raise my hand. “Not literally. Well, okay, literally. I literally fell asleep with him. Nothing else happened. Except in the morning, I was on top of him. Like totally on top of him. And he was—”
I trail off, but Ben grins. “He was at full mast?”
“Right. And I tried to brush it off by saying it was because of Gigi, but he made it abundantly clear that his soldier was super happy because of a dream he had about me.”
Ben tries to stop smiling. “I told Riley weeks ago they’re not gonna last.”
“Why wouldn’t they last? They’ve lasted this long, haven’t they?”
“What, a few weeks of infatuation? That’s nothing. Oh, Alexis and I broke up, by the way. Just thought you should know.”
I bring my hand to my mouth. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”
He shrugs. “We grew apart. No cheating, no screaming, just honestly grew apart. I’m okay. I’m good, actually. I need to be alone for a while and figure my life out.”
I remember the last time he said that. “You know, you don’t seem too upset about this break-up,” I say slowly. “Not like when a certain someone left town.”
“Don’t.” Ben’s face goes from his typical relaxed expression to fierce in an instant. “Mace, you know that topic is off-limits.”
“So is my best friend. Doesn’t mean I didn’t sleep with him last night.”
Ben laughs, and his eyes lose that hard look they get when I bring up his past with a certain woman he may or may not have ever gotten over.
I want my siblings to find their person. Whoever that is. And Ben worries me. He’s always so stoic, so logical. But I’ve seen him snap before. It was a long time ago, and now that I think about it—
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose control.” I hold his gaze. “Except over one subject.”
“How many ways do I need to tell you that subject is not up for conversation?” He runs his hand down his face. “You’re nosy. I get it. And you can help out Riley and Free all you like. But your only brother’s love life is not an open book.”
I hold up my hands. “I know. I’m sorry for pushing. I just want you to be happy, Benny.”
“And I want the same for you, Mace. Subject change?”
“Please.”
He shows me what he’s been doing. “I’ve organized the bills. And we need to get all these onto the computer and out of the paper age. Seriously, don’t you think?”
I shrug. “It’s a bar. Not Wall Street.”
“It’s a business,” he says. “And we have to treat it that way.”
“Don’t you think I know it’s a business? I’ve been running this place since I was sixteen.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’ve been pretty much carrying this place for all of us.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just honestly in a terrible mood. I’m tired and cranky. I’m truly so glad you’re working here. You’ll be far better at it than I am. Any other thoughts so far?”
“Well, for starters, it’s a Sunday morning, and there’s nobody here,” he says. “We could team up with Wild Ivy Ranch and offer brunch with mimosas.”
“That’s a great idea. Daddy isn’t working to grow the business. He’s just leaning on Jane’s ghost for his profits. She’s his cash cow. Without her, this place would be sunk.”
“Daddy sucks at the bottom line.” Ben points to a stack of papers in front of him. “Look at this: he had you order ninety-six bottles of the Pinot Noir. If he’d ordered a hundred, he would have saved a dollar per. Here’s another example.” Ben shows me the latest order of beer Daddy had me do. “Four hundred cases when five hundred is the break point to a much better margin. It’s a mess. I can’t believe you didn’t catch this, Mace.”
I sigh. “I’ve been so preoccupied. Honestly, I do try to catch Daddy’s errors, but I miss a lot. Running this saloon and chapel just isn’t my thing. I’ve tried to tell him.”
“When have you tried to tell him that?” Ben asks me.
“When…” I pause. “When he did the amended contract, I said something about setting a schedule to find a new manager. But I had already signed the original contract, you know, during that intervention we staged before one of his rehabs, and he never listens to me when I try to explain…”
“Because he doesn’t want to hire a stranger. He wants to keep it in the family.”
“That’s why I don’t push him more. I can’t. Getting him to stay sober has been a full-time job. It’s like I have two jobs, and that one always comes first, Ben.”
“I know. But somebody should say something.” He stands up and takes the papers back. “Because relying on a ghost to keep him afloat is a risky game to play. And eventually, he’s gonna lose.”
As he heads for the bar, I check my cell. Riley wants to meet me at the creek a half hour before the engagement party. I text her back sure, then curse myself for agreeing to meet with the one person in this world, other than Gigi, who can make me feel about two inches tall by her mere presence. Riley never seems overwhelmed, she never feels awkward, and she’s never embarrassed. She never seems to have any problems.
I drive home where I grab a sandwich and chips, and then shower and change for the party. I sit down at my laptop to write until I need to leave. I can barely concentrate on my novel because the feeling of Logan underneath me keeps my hormones dancing and my panties wet. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that when I finally finish a chapter, my ghost hero and heroine have been branded with red raindrop tattoos.
Oh, crap!
I’m not writing Ghost Love about my parents’ redemption! I’m writing about Logan and me getting a second chance as ghosts after blowing all our chances on earth.
I lean back in my chair and snarf down about three times the amount of potato chips I planned to eat. I knew my diary was providing id
eas—but writing a story about my ex-husband? The man who’s currently engaged to someone else? That’s just ludicrous. And pathetic.
This can’t happen. The chapter of my life that included Logan Wild in any romantic sense is long over. I’m going to have to rework this novel for the third time and try focusing on Mama and Daddy as inspiration. Maybe I can write their redemption story, which would at least feel like one degree of separation.
But right now, it’s time to meet Riley, right before I go to Logan and Gigi’s engagement party.
Super.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I pull up to the creek just as Riley steps out of her car. I park right behind her, and we walk toward the water together, taking seats on top of one of the picnic tables. I can see the streamers and balloons down by the lake just on the other side of the tree line. I’m sure Gigi’s already there, ready for her fans and all the cameras to descend on her.
“You look hot.” Riley glances approvingly at my silk green shirt and black miniskirt.
“Thanks. Maybe feeling good about my outfit will help my mood.”
“You dreading this party as much as I’d imagine you are?” Riley asks me, chipping paint off the table with a stick she found.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” I take a rock off the bench. “Want to?”
We walk down to the edge of the water and take turns skipping stones. Riley wins, of course. Eleven skips. I get six.
“You always win.” I know I sound like a brat, and I smile at her to make up for it.
She follows me back to the table, and we sit in silence for a few minutes. The sun is hot already, and I’m sweating through my clothes. This feeling used to turn me on and make me wonder where Logan could be right now. But I know better than to ever play that game with myself again.
“So how was Austin?” I ask Riley.
Warrior Girl: A Cowboy Romance (Wild Men Texas Book 2) Page 14