Logan’s last thoughts were ironic. It took almost getting his knee crushed by a baseball bat for Claire to finally agree to stay the night in his bed. Rafer was in jail. His knee was no worse for wear. His head hurt, but not excessively so. And Claire was soft and warm in his arms. All in all, the perfect ending to a very strange day.
That night changed their sleeping arrangements for good.
Without any fanfare, Claire moved a few of her things from the guest room in the main house to Logan’s room above the garage. It was a small space. Keeping the bulk of her possessions where they were made sense. However, every night? She stayed with Logan. They made love. They talked for hours. Every morning, she woke up in his arms.
After a week, Logan was almost ready to send Rafer a thank you note. Almost. The knock on the head hadn’t turned him into a raving lunatic.
Going to the police station to give their statements had been routine. No one questioned Logan and Claire’s version of the events. Especially since Rafer’s cohorts lost their nerve once they were sober enough to understand how much trouble they were in. They were happy to point fingers in any direction that took the heat off them.
As for Rafer’s father-in-law, Rhonda called that one right. He didn’t lift a finger to help. He refused his daughter’s plea to post bail. Let the bastard rot was the general consensus.
That was when Rafer played his trump card. Or so he thought. Implicating Linda Sue Hemmings as the mastermind behind his attack on Logan gave Denville plenty of gossip to chew on. However, it didn’t help Rafer get out of prison.
When the police went to question Linda Sue, they found out that she and her husband had left town early that morning. Linda Sue to a spa in New Mexico. Darryl on a business trip. Their sudden departure added gasoline to the already raging fires of speculation.
Was Rafer telling the truth? Was Linda Sue behind the attack on Logan? And what did Darryl know about his wife and her possibly illegal activities? Whatever the answers, it was certainly the juiciest thing to happen in these parts for as long as anyone could remember.
There was another bit of gossip that got as much play as Rafer and Linda Sue. After the night that Logan was attacked, there was no way to keep it under wraps any longer. The whole town wanted to know. Was it true? Was Logan trying to resurrect his football career?
“Word was bound to get around.” Jonas handed Logan a box of vodka. “Rafer shouted it so loudly I’m surprised they didn’t hear it three states over. There were too many people around to keep it a secret.”
“I know.” Logan sighed. “I was hoping to get my team physical before the news broke. Answering questions from the media is a piece of cake compared to what I get here in Denville.
“Oh, get over yourself. No one cares about you.” Rhonda winked at Jonas. She sat at the bar sipping her usual before-work Diet Coke. “We want to know how Claire acquired those mad skills with a gun.”
“I’ve been curious about that myself,” Jonas said. “With everything that’s been going on, I haven’t had a chance to ask.”
All eyes turned to Claire, who was filling the top shelf behind the bar with newly washed glasses. Suddenly the center of attention, she paused, and then continued with her task.
“Logan knows.” Claire shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“Are you kidding?” Rhonda exclaimed. “Not only was it dark, but the adrenaline had to be pumping through you like crazy. How did you hit Rafer’s arm from that distance?”
“Luck?”
“Luck would have had you blowing the asshole’s head off.”
“Jesus, Rhonda,” Claire chuckled, shaking her head. “That’s a bit extreme.”
“Rafer Macafee is a blight on this town. Always has been. Do you know he’ll probably get away with only a slap on the wrist? Pug says Wade Eason will do more time than Rafer.”
“Wade was the one who actually hit Logan over the head.”
Jonas kept his head down, pretending to count bottles. It would be a long time before his stomach didn’t do a sick flip when he thought about how close he came to losing Logan. An inch one way or the other and that two-by-four could have killed him.
Understanding, Claire reached over to squeeze Jonas’ hand.
“For all his effort, Rafer didn’t do any physical damage. Except to the recycling bin.”
“Very funny, Logan.” Rhonda absently stirred her Coke with her straw. “Aren’t you pissed knowing Rafer will probably be free by the end of the week?”
“I’m not thrilled,” Logan admitted. “On the other hand, I’m not going to waste my time thinking about Rafer.”
“Nor should you,” Jonas agreed. “Think of it this way, Rhonda. Everyone in Denville knows what Rafer did. His few friends either are in jail or have turned their backs on him. He has no blood relatives. His family by marriage has washed their hands of him.”
“Even Cheryl?” Logan asked. Rafer’s wife had put up with his drinking, his cheating – his general bad behavior. It was interesting to find out that this would be the final straw.
“Word has it she’s filed for divorce. I guess her father gave her an ultimatum. Her husband or his money.”
“Hallelujah to the power of the all mighty buck.” Rhonda clapped her hands together. “Cheryl used to be a friend. When she took up with Rafer, she changed. Maybe with time, we can reconnect.”
“Rafer is finished in Denville.”
“Do you think he’s smart enough to realize that?”
Jonas shrugged. “Who knows, Claire. He might gut it out for a while. He has no job. No place to live. I can’t imagine he has much in the way of savings. If he has half a brain, he’ll cut his losses. Move on to a new town where he can alienate a new community.”
“Fingers crossed.” Rhonda zeroed in on Claire. “So?”
“So?” Claire frowned. “What?”
“My gun. Your hand. Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
“God, you’re like a dog with a bone.”
“When it’s this juicy? Damn straight.”
“You might as well tell her, Claire,” Logan said.
“Fine,” Claire sighed.
“Goody.” Rhonda patted the nearby stool. “Sit. Spill.”
“I’ll pour the coffee.” Jonas reached for two cups.
“Don’t get so excited.” Claire joined Rhonda on the other side of the bar. “On the entertainment scale, the story barely rates a four.”
“Logan?” Rhonda inquired, brows raised.
“I’d give it a solid eight.” When he saw Claire’s narrowed eyes, he smiled. “Sorry. You were under-selling it.”
“And you’re giving it too much build-up.”
“Just tell us!”
“I was sixteen and there was a boy.”
“At that age, there usually is,” Rhonda nodded.
“I suppose,” Claire acknowledged. “Brand Wycoff was my first real crush. He was tall and skinny with curly red hair.”
“Was he older?”
“Naturally. A whole two years.”
Claire and Rhonda shared a knowing look. When you were sixteen, eighteen seemed worldly by comparison. Especially when you compared sixteen-year-old boys.
“I wasn’t ready to throw away my dreams for Brand. But I was ready to toss him my—”
Claire suddenly realized to whom she was talking. Sharing her youthful follies with Logan and Rhonda was one thing. Telling Jonas was another.
“You wanted to have sex with this boy,” Jonas said matter-of-factly.
“Am I blushing?” Claire asked Logan.
After a close inspection of her face that ended in a quick kiss on the nose, Logan shook his head.
“Nope. Not a pink cheek in sight.”
“It would be so much easier if I were a shrinking violet. A case of the vapors and I could gracefully ease out of this conversation.”
“Do women still get the vapors?” Jonas speculated.
“Who cares,” Rhonda growled in
frustration. “Finish the story. You were about to get down and dirty with Ginger Boy?”
“Right.” Claire laughed.
She was surrounded by friends. If you couldn’t share your most embarrassing moments with them, what was the point?
“After extensive research, I discovered Brand loved guns. That right there should have given me pause. But I plead the idiocy of youth. Plus, like in Denville, where I grew up, almost everybody owned some kind of firearm.”
“You learned everything you could about guns?” Rhonda asked, impressed by Claire’s dedication. When she was that age, had she simply batted her eyes? Then again, all that had gotten her was Elmer and years of heartache. Claire’s way seemed much smarter.
“Way more than necessary, as it turned out.” Claire smiled her thanks when Jonas filled up her coffee cup. “After a few months of hanging out with friends, Brand finally asked if I wanted to shoot some tin cans out back of his folks’ place.”
“Smooth.” Logan rolled his eyes.
Claire stuck out her tongue. “It worked. Of course, at that point, almost anything would have. I was the proverbial ripe plum.”
“Don’t let Logan give you any guff,” Rhonda laughed. “I knew him when he was eighteen. He picked plums right and left.”
“Thanks for that, Rhonda.” Logan playfully jabbed a knuckle into her side, causing Rhonda to laugh even harder.
“My story is coming to its rather non-climactic ending. Are you still interested?”
“Sorry.” Rhonda sobered, her eyes twinkling. “You say non-climactic. Does that mean you and Red didn’t have sex? Or was it really bad?
“I made the mistake of being a better shot than he was.” Claire could still see the look of disbelief on Brand’s face when she hit five of the six cans. “My first lesson. I swear it was the first time I had ever shot a gun. Brand didn’t believe me.”
“Naturally,” Rhonda scoffed.
“Suffice it to say, Brand was not my first lover. I did like shooting, though. I still hit the gun range now and then.”
“Who was your first?”
“Rhonda!”
“What?”
“You wanted to know why I was a good shot and I told you.”
“Oh, come on, Claire.” Rhonda leaned a little closer. “We’ve opened the can of worms. Let them breathe.”
“Do worms breathe?” Claire shook the question off. “I’m not getting into a debate about worms.”
“Thank God.”
“Exactly,” Claire nodded at Jonas. “Three more words about the start of my sex life. College. Sophomore year.”
“But—”
“That’s it, Rhonda.” Claire laughed. She gathered up her cup, reaching over the bar to put it in the sink. “The rest is classified under nobody’s business but my own.”
Hours later, lying in each other’s arms after making love, Logan smoothed back Claire’s thick, glossy hair.
“Why didn’t you tell Dad and Rhonda the whole story?”
Claire tucked Logan’s arm tighter around her waist. Sex with him was the best she had ever known. Better than any fantasy. The cuddling after ran a close second to her favorite part.
They had a connection. Before. During. After. It made telling him her deepest, darkest secrets easier.
“The mood was light.” Claire sighed. “They didn’t need to know that Brand Wycoff turned out to be a bastard.”
“He hit you.”
“Yes.”
Brand didn’t take a woman besting him with good grace. Instead, he backhanded Claire so hard her lip was swollen for two days.
“My only regret is that I didn’t kick his balls up into his throat.”
“You did the smart thing, Claire. You left and didn’t go back.”
“I left Brand free to abuse another woman. We both know I wasn’t the first. Or the last.”
“You were sixteen. What were your options?”
In a small town where Brand’s daddy ran things? Claire options had been nonexistent. She went home. Put ice on her lip. And kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t brave. However, as Logan said, it was smart.
One good thing came from her brief relationship. More than ever, Claire was determined to make her own way in the world. Far away from Iowa.
“What’s so funny?” Logan tipped Claire’s chin up, happy to see her smile.
“My life. I swore the closest I would ever get to a small town again would be a flyover in a very large airplane. Not only am I living in Denville? The town I left is only five hundred miles north of here.”
“We could be there by lunch.”
Claire shuddered. “Bite your tongue.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Claire’s kiss was lingering and sweet. “Now tell me what I did.”
“You trusted me with the Bastard Brand story. Had you told anyone before?”
“You were the first.” Because she did trust him. Because she knew with every fiber of her being that Logan was the only person she would ever feel comfortable with to share… everything.
“Thank you.”
Logan turned off the bedside lamp then pulled Claire close. She listened as his breathing became even and sleep overtook him. She was tired. So much had happened in such a short period.
Claire’s thoughts drifted. The past few months had been the happiest of her life. Every minute filled with work and Logan. From the very beginning, they had a goal. It united them in a way few people would ever understand. The night they met, they felt an instant connection that grew stronger every day. For all of this to work, it had to.
The trust Logan mentioned went both ways. If they didn’t believe in each other, they would have failed before they began.
Soon, they would take the next step. Not a leap of faith like back in December when Logan put his future in her hands. When they left Denville for Seattle, their paths would diverge. Claire wondered if Logan realized that yet. To finish the journey, they had to do it separately. That was the only way they could both succeed.
She let herself relax into much-needed slumber. May and then June. That was all the time they had left before everything changed. She vowed to make the most of it.
Claire knew what tomorrow would bring. It was still her job to prepare Logan the best way she knew how. After that? The Seattle Knights. That was the unknown. For both of them.
IT WAS THE hottest June that anyone in Denville could remember. The green of a rainy spring would soon fade to a brittle brown if the record heat continued.
“I’ll bet you’re glad you’re getting out of here.” Rhonda handed Claire a pair of jeans. “Seattle is rainy, right?”
“It can be.” Claire tucked her makeup bag into the corner of her suitcase. “It’s a myth that there is nothing but day after day of gray skies and drizzle.”
Rhonda sat on the bed with a sigh. She was dressed for the heat. Blue tank top and matching shorts were not only weather-appropriate, but they also did wonders for her curvy figure.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving. Denville will revert to Dullsville without you and Logan.”
Claire did one last tour of the room, checking drawers for any stray items. It wouldn’t be a disaster if she left something behind. If it were important, Jonas could send it to her. However, she wouldn’t use a stray article of clothing as an excuse to stay in touch. When she called Logan’s father, it would be because she wanted nothing more than to talk.
The same went for Rhonda. Their friendship was not something Claire would let slide – no matter how many miles separated them. Besides, she had a wedding to come back for. Which reminded her.
“About your wedding.”
“No.” Rhonda shook her head. Her ponytail made a vigorous flip. “You can’t bail on your maid-of-honor commitment.”
“I wasn’t planning to. I did want you to know that I might not be able to take part in any pre-wedding festivities. October is right in the middle of football season. I’ll be here for t
he ceremony, but that will probably be it.”
Claire zipped up her bag. She came with one and she was leaving with one. Everything in the training room was staying. The oils, lotions, balms. She wanted them to be here whenever Logan visited his father. She didn’t think about coming back with him. That was still part of the great unknown.
“Don’t worry about that,” Rhonda said with a wave of her red-tipped fingers. “We’ve moved the wedding to March.”
“What?” Claire set the suitcase by the door before turning. “Why?”
“Pug and I want you and Logan at our wedding. We think of you as our good luck charms. By March, all the Super Bowl hoopla should be over. Logan will be free to join all the festivities.”
“Please tell me you haven’t mentioned any of this to Logan.” Claire felt her stomach clench. “He’s already under so much pressure. Especially now that the national media picked up the story.”
A throwaway online post about a fight in the parking lot of a bar in Oklahoma was somehow seen by a blogger. The blogger was seen by a local stringer for ESPN. It started slowly. A phone call asking for a quote. The request for an interview. Before long, someone was bound to show up in Denville with a camera.
Logan’s story was gaining traction.
“I swear.” Rhonda held up her hand. “Logan won’t know anything about our change of plans. We want him to succeed, Claire. We want the same for you.”
“Thanks, Rhonda. I want that too.”
Which was why Claire was getting out of Denville.
“What I don’t understand is why you’re leaving today. Why not wait and go with Logan at the end of the week?”
“I’d like to know the answer to that myself.”
Crap. It served her right. Her plan had always been to speak with Logan before she left. Why wasn’t he at the bar instead of overhearing her conversation with Rhonda?
“Logan…”
“That’s my cue.” Rhonda hopped off the bed. She threw her arms around Claire. “Everyone will be mad as all get out if you don’t stop by Lefty’s on your way out of town.”
Claire hugged Rhonda, her eyes locked with Logan’s. Usually, she had no problem reading what he was thinking. For the first time, his eyes were void of emotion.
After The Rain (One Pass Away #1) Page 14