After The Rain (One Pass Away #1)

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After The Rain (One Pass Away #1) Page 4

by Mary J. Williams


  “I don’t cook,” Logan muttered. “Wait. Am I a what?”‘

  “A Felix.” Claire was bent over examining the almost empty mini-fridge. “You know. As in The Odd Couple? Felix was the clean one, Oscar the slob.”

  Christ, TV references.

  “I never watched much television.” Except football. He devoured as many of those as possible.

  “I did.” Claire practically beamed with pride. “We got an old secondhand black and white when I was seven. Two channels – on a good night. The antenna picked up more static than anything else but when it worked, it was glorious.”

  “It didn’t take much to entertain you.”

  Claire laughed. It was such a happy sound. Happy had been in short supply in his life for some time. Like a starving man presented with a crumb, Logan wanted more.

  Searching his mind, he tried to think of something that would have her filling the room with that joyous sound. He used to know a few jokes, though not ones you told in mixed company.

  “What has you looking so intense?”

  With a start, Logan realized Claire was standing in front of him. When had she crossed the room? And why did she have to smell so good?

  “I was wondering if I could make you laugh again.” No reason to lie. “I like the way it sounds.”

  “You should kiss me.”

  Claire said it in such a matter of fact way, Logan was sure he misunderstood.”

  “Kiss you?”

  “It’s obvious we have a mutual attraction going here,” Claire said. She moved a step closer.

  “Mutual?”

  “As in you’re interested.” Putting a hand on his shoulder, Claire tilted her head. “As in, despite the whole Grizzly Adams routine, I’m feeling that little flutter in my stomach.”

  When Logan didn’t respond, Claire raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Grizzly Adams?”

  “I have an inkling.”

  Knowing it was a bad idea, Logan circled Claire’s waist with his hands. Slender. No longer wearing that bulky winter coat, her figure was nicely displayed by a pair of faded jeans and an impossibly soft sweater only slightly darker in color than her eyes. She was average height, the slight heel on her leather boots bringing her to just under his chin.

  Her shoulder-length hair looked like golden sunlight and bounced when she walked. Logan wanted to slide his fingers into the thick locks. He would take what she offered. A long, deep, hot kiss. Then… What? As tempting as it sounded, he knew a bad idea when he heard one.

  “I’m not hitting on you.”

  “Has that kind of thing changed in the year and a half that I’ve been cut off from civilization?”

  Claire laughed. Damn. Logan unconsciously moved closer. Honey. That’s what it sounded like. And he was a very horny bee.

  “I can control my urges,” she assured him.

  “Me too.” Probably.

  “It’s wondering that always gets me in trouble. I don’t want to spend the next six months wondering what your kiss is like.” Claire moved her mouth to a hair’s breadth from his. “Once I know, I can put it out of my mind.”

  Logan could have stopped her. The problem was he didn’t want to. The second her lips brushed across his, there was no turning back. He had to know what she tasted like.

  Gripping her waist, Logan kept their bodies from touching. If this was going to stop at a kiss, he wasn’t taking any chances. If her sweet curves started rubbing against him, there would be no turning back.

  “For this to work, you need to participate.”

  As Claire said the words, she bit his lower lip. Hard.

  “Hey,” Logan protested.

  “I needed you to open up. Thank you.”

  Her tongue slid in, challenging his to keep up. With a growl and a curse, Logan opened a little more. Claire wanted a kiss? Then that was what she would get.

  Logan slanted his mouth over Claire’s, his tongue rubbing sensuously over hers. It might have been awhile, but he remembered exactly how to make a woman lose control. Not too hard. Just soft enough. Long. Slow. Deep. Wet. It was an art. Once, he was a master. Like playing an instrument, it wasn’t long until he hit all the right notes.

  Claire didn’t pull away when the kiss ended. She slowly backed up, her eyes closed. Slightly parted, her mouth glistened. Taking a deep breath, her lids slowly opened.

  “Was that a bad idea?”

  “I’m not complaining.” For the first time in over a year, Logan felt like his feet were on solid ground. Claire’s kiss. Was it that simple?

  “Sex would be a mistake, Logan.” Claire moved farther away. “Unprofessional. Gaige…”

  “If this happens, Gaige will have nothing to do with it,” Logan interrupted. His voice was sharp with annoyance.

  “Thanks for the if it happens.” Claire pushed her hair back, a small smile on her lips. “I appreciate that there’s no automatic assumption that we will have sex.”

  “I never assume a woman will drop into my bed, Claire.”

  Or that if she did, he would be able to do anything about it. Logan’s dick showed signs of life, thanks to Claire. It would be humiliating to have it die on him at the wrong moment. He wanted to be sure that all his parts worked before things got that far. If he found himself needing those little blue pills to perform? Hell, shoot him now. His misery would be complete.

  “There’s always Viagra.”

  “What?” Logan barked in surprise. Witch, miracle worker, and mind reader? Having Claire Thornton around would be continually disconcerting if she kept this up.

  “You zoned out.” Claire tapped his temple. “I was telling you about the guy in my deep tissue massage class. Students would practice on students. Sometimes instructors.”

  “One of them took Viagra before your massage?

  “Not with me in mind,” Claire said. “Not at first.”

  “Was this a legitimate class or something you signed up for in the back of a magazine? You know. The kind with large-breasted women on the cover?”

  “I don’t read Jugs.”

  “How do you know that’s the one I meant?” Logan gave Claire an innocent smile. “Maybe I was referring to Vogue.”

  “According to Vogue, big-breasted women don’t exist. It ruins the line of those designer clothes.”

  “I like breasts.”

  “What man doesn’t?” Claire laughed. “My massage instructor was a big fan.”

  “What happened?” Logan offered Claire a seat before sitting in the only other chair in the room.

  “Seems he planned on meeting his girlfriend right after class. In anticipation, he took some Viagra. He figured a little stimulation from me, some chemical enhancement, and boom – he’d be ready to screw the night away.”

  “I take it the pills took effect a little earlier than planned?”

  Claire nodded. “I worked my magic on his back. When I asked him to turn over, tent city.”

  Logan snickered.

  “Why?” Claire joined in, laughing and shaking her head. “He could have stayed on his stomach. Instead, he proudly yanked off the sheet yelling ta da. There were four other students in the room. Luckily one of them was a woman.”

  “The guys weren’t any help?” Suddenly the story didn’t seem as funny. The situation could have turned ugly. Fast.

  “They were too busy laughing their asses off. June and I hightailed it out of there. We stopped just long enough to report what happened.”

  “Did the instructor lose his job?”

  “Nope.”

  “What?”

  “He was given a warning.” Claire sighed. “I was eighteen. Working two jobs while I took classes at a community college just outside of Tacoma. Every cent I could scrape together went toward my education.”

  “You should have sued the bastard. And the college.”

  “I didn’t have the time or any backup. June didn’t want to get involved. The two male students said they didn’t see anything.
It came down to he said, she said. In the end, I got my money back. I had to settle for that.”

  Logan imagined it was harder than she was making out. A young woman on her own, even one as capable and strong-willed as Claire would always be a target for men who wanted to take advantage of her.

  “So how did you get from there to here? Where does Gaige enter the picture?”

  “That’s an even longer story.”

  “It’s five o’clock in the morning. Unless you want to go for a run, there isn’t much else to do in Denville.”

  “Give me five minutes.” Claire grabbed her bag.

  She’d only brought the one in case Logan rejected Gaige’s proposal. It would do for a week or so. Once she had Logan on a regular routine, she would take a day to fly back to Seattle. There were things she needed now that she knew where she would be for the next six months.

  “You want to go running?” Logan watched as Claire pulled several things from her duffle.

  “I can talk and run.” She paused at the bathroom door. “Can’t you?”

  “It’s never come up,” he mumbled to the closed door.

  Solitary. That was what his life had become. Work and home. He ate with his dad a couple times a week. They shared a beer now and then. Until Gaige mentioned his father calling, Logan had no idea how much worry he caused him.

  Jonas Price wasn’t a talkative man. He rarely shared his feelings. The happiest he could ever remember seeing his father was on the day the Knights drafted Logan. Jonas bought a round for the house. Beaming, he toasted his son on the beginning of a long and successful career.

  That image stayed with Logan. Through training camp. Making the team. His first touchdown. Waking up in the hospital after surgery on his fractured leg. The realization his career was over. It made it that much harder to come home a failure.

  Logan went through the familiar motions of pulling on his running clothes, his mind occupied with thoughts of his father. It couldn’t have been easy. The comments Logan endured were one thing. Knowing some of that had to have spilled over onto his father ripped at his guts.

  Hard working. Honest. Jonas Price never asked for help. Not for himself. Calling Gaige Benson would have been difficult for such a proud man. He loved his son. Logan never doubted it. He would swallow his pride if it meant helping his only child.

  “Ready?”

  Claire was dressed all in black. Shoes, snug Lycra pants, and a thick zippered jacket. Her gloves and knit cap with all her hair tucked inside made her look like a cat burglar, not a physical therapist.

  “What?” Claire demanded, looking up as she re-tied her left shoe.

  “Fancy gear.”

  Claire gave him the once over. “You need better shoes. Those don’t give you the proper support. How long have you had them? There are holes on top of the holes.”

  “I found them in the closet of my old room.” Logan turned his foot to the side, examining the old shoe. “They serve their purpose.”

  “Crack open the wallet, Logan.” Claire zipped her jacket up to her chin. “Your feet will thank you.”

  As they headed down the outside stairs, Logan glanced over at the house where he grew up. Old, rambling, neat as a pin. His father wouldn’t have had it any other way. Even when money was at its tightest, Jonas Price never let their home be rundown. What he couldn’t take care of himself, he would barter to get it done. Services for services. From a new coat of paint to roof repair. Jonas always found a way.

  Logan set off in his usual direction with Claire by his side. The house was as dark as the rest of the town. In a few hours, his father would be up, having his morning coffee. Checking the sports headlines on ESPN. Football. It got Jonas’ juices flowing. Seeing his son’s name in print once again would mean the world to a man who asked for little.

  Up until this moment, he hadn’t been sold that this was a good idea. Now, picking up the pace, he was determined to make it work.

  I won’t let you down again, Dad.

  THEY RAN IN silence. One mile, then two. If Claire was anything like him, her brain worked harder than her body. A million thoughts ricocheting off each other at the speed of light.

  Gaige left Denville over an hour ago. He had a plane to catch so he could get back to Seattle for a workout with his personal trainer.

  The Knights season might be a lost cause, but Gaige wouldn’t slack. Every game, no matter the team’s record, was played with the intensity of the playoffs.

  Before he left, they nailed down the details of the plan.

  “Finding a place for you and Claire to work out on the QT presented the biggest problem. Your dad took care of that. He volunteered his basement.”

  “Jesus, Gaige.” Logan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “How long has this been in the works? Without my knowledge.”

  “About a month.”

  Logan let out a long string of expletives. Gaige patiently waited for him to finish. Claire calmly continued sipping her coffee.

  “Getting workmen in and out was no problem,” Gaige continued matter-of-factly. “He told his neighbors he was doing a little remodeling.”

  “Remodeling? In Denville?” Amazed, Logan shook his head.

  “All I can tell you is it worked. The job was finished two days ago.”

  “And I didn’t notice a thing.”

  “That’s what happens when you get so wrapped up in your own crap. The world tends to pass you by.”

  Knowing Claire had it right didn’t make her words any easier to take. Ignoring her, Logan turned to Gaige.

  “How much is all this costing you?”

  “No.” Gaige shook his head. His dark green eyes bit into Logan like shards of steel. “This isn’t about that. You’re a friend, Logan. Money can’t be an issue. Not now.”

  “Gaige…”

  “Don’t even think about paying me back. Someday, when the opportunity presents itself, pay it forward.”

  In other words, give someone a hand up. Logan agreed with the sentiment. It rankled knowing he couldn’t do anything about it now. He had holed himself away, wallowing in self-pity. He had a degree. There was nothing stopping him from using it.

  Nothing except his own stubborn pride. To get a job that paid a decent wage, he would have to use his waning celebrity. He would be a poster boy in a suit. His bosses could trot him out to shake hands and polish the company image. The likelihood that he would ever do any actual work was slim to none.

  Logan wasn’t looking for an easy paycheck.

  That’s why he would work his ass off for this second chance. If and when he made the big bucks, it would be because he earned it. Then, when he saw somebody floundering, he would follow Gaige’s directive. He would pay it forward.

  “Ready to talk?”

  Logan glanced at Claire. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her forehead, but she breathed normally. She kept pace with ease even though his stride was longer. This woman was in shape. Add one more thing to her sexy column.

  “Nothing was keeping you quiet,” Logan pointed out. “Not that anything could.”

  “I do like to speak my mind.” Claire wasn’t offended. “It seemed you needed to sort a few things out. I thought I would give you a few miles to organize your thoughts.”

  “Thanks.” Logan slowed his pace. “I do have a few questions.”

  “Only a few?” Claire turned. Running backward, she looked Logan in the eye. “I’ll take as many as you’ve got.”

  “Even the personal ones?”

  “Sure.” Claire shrugged. “I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.”

  “Fair enough. Tell me how you met Gaige.”

  “No problem there.” Clair fell back in step. “I love that story.”

  After she left her class at the community college, Claire added a third job to her day. If she wasn’t learning, she would be earning. In a few months when classes started up again, she had planned to have a nice little nest egg accumulated.

  The waitress job
at Chuck’s Pancake House didn’t pay much, but the tips made up for it. It turned out truckers liked a pretty girl who didn’t mind partaking in a little mild flirtation while serving them.

  Her shift was the early one. Five a.m. to noon. Most of the men needed a break and a hot meal. They didn’t have time for more than a smile and some friendly conversation. The few times anyone got fresh, she had a dozen or so burly protectors watching her back.

  Claire had worked at Chuck’s for over a month when Gaige Benson and three other Knights walked into the restaurant. She didn’t recognize them, but everyone else did.

  “You think that’s funny?” Claire swerved into Logan, knocking off his stride. She sped up, making him pick up his pace to catch her.

  “You were saying?”

  Claire shot him a smile. You had to love a guy who didn’t mind a woman getting the better of him.

  “Even though it was a slow part of the morning, Gaige, and his crew caused quite a stir.”

  Claire used the lull to refill salt and pepper shakers. If she got it done now, she could cut out a little early. She had a new book on human musculature that she was dying to crack open.

  “That’s Gaige Benson,” Susie Wade whispered.

  Having just arrived for the next shift, Susie was still taking off her coat.

  “That’s nice.”

  Claire’s concentration was on not spilling salt all over the place. She didn’t know who Gaige Benson was and she didn’t care. Men were such a low priority in her life right now; they might as well not exist.

  “Nice is putting it mildly.” Susie sighed. “I don’t know the other two guys. Al says they play with the Knights, too.”

  Finished, Claire screwed on the last shaker cap. She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes and she was out of here.

  “OMG.” Susie grabbed Claire’s arms, almost sending the tray of salt and pepper flying.

  “Careful, Susie.” She liked the other woman, but sometimes she could be a pain in Claire’s ass.

  “He’s sitting in your station. Damn. Ten more minutes and he would have been mine.”

  “Hey, knock yourself out.”

  Claire was more than happy to turn what’s his name over to the other waitress. Maybe she would get out of here early after all.

 

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