And now, she was sorry she’d said anything at all. How many nights had she dreamed about him touching her again? How many years had she fantasized about him? Too many to count... and she’d just ruined everything.
What was she so afraid of happening? It wasn’t like anyone would see them together.
She was in Las Vegas, of all places, and that alone was reason enough to encourage the man she was interested in to touch her. He wasn’t a stranger, except... the knowledge was one-sided. She supposed if she were being truly honest, her insider information of Logan was slightly stalkerish. Well, not in a follow-him-around-and-peek-in-his-window type of way. No, her method was completely legal and a time-honored tradition on social media.
“Want another drink?” he asked after the scantily clad waitress took his order.
“A pina colada. You can charge it to my—”
“It’s on me.” Logan gave her a look, as if daring her to challenge him.
She mimed zipped her lips.
The waitress left, shaking her gold-covered butt as she strutted away. Willow had to admit the woman had great form. She’d make an excellent server during an event.
“Thank you.”
He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do for mauling you.”
“You weren’t mauling me,” she said, and he raised a black brow. “Didn’t have to stop touching me either.”
He leaned forward a little, making the water splash onto her chest. “You sure about that?”
Finally giving in to the urge to touch him, she splayed her hand against his chest. His hard, muscular chest. “Super sure.” Inwardly groaning, she gave herself a mental shake.
Stop being so dorky.
You want me to stop being me?
Just long enough for Logan to like us... er, me.
That’s a really dumb plan.
No one asked you.
“Why are you here?”
“Um... wedding planners’ convention.” She flexed her fingers against his warm skin.
He gave her a challenging look. “It’s the middle of the day. Shouldn’t you be in a meeting or something?”
“Shouldn’t you be home for Christmas or something?” she replied.
He laughed, but the sound was rather hollow. “Probably.”
“When’s the last time you were actually home for the holidays?” she asked.
“Four years ago.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s a long time.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I needed to get away.”
“From what?” Although she already knew the answer, she would listen if he wanted to talk.
“Corinne.”
“Oh, she’s not here?”
“I said I was alone.”
She frowned. “That’s a shame.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re a bad liar.”
“I was being polite,” she explained lightly. While she would certainly agree with his assessment of her as a bad liar, she was an exceptional deflector.
“Since I don’t have anything polite to say about her or our situation, I’ll do the honorable thing and keep my mouth shut.”
She tilted her head to one side. “You’re welcome to talk about whatever you want. I won’t tell a soul, and no one knows us in Vegas.”
“They say confession is good for the soul,” he muttered.
“You weren’t the Cheater McCheaterson of the relationship—she was.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to curse herself up one side and down another.
“Great. The entire town of Holland Springs knows. Fucking wonderful.” His lips smashed together, creating one thin line of anger.
“Not everyone knows,” she said, digging a deeper hole.
“Tell me another one.”
She winced a little. “I only know because of Haven?”
“My brother has a big mouth.”
“Don’t be angry with Heath. He wasn’t the one to do you wrong.”
Logan tilted his head to one side. “Stop trying to be reasonable. It won’t work with me.”
“You don’t like logic and reason?”
“Only when it benefits me.”
She snorted. “At least you’re honest about that.”
“You deal with unreasonable people a lot?”
Laughter bubbled. “The most unreasonable to ever walk the earth, but I wouldn’t trade my job for anything in this world.”
A tray of drinks came between them. Logan passed Willow her fruity cocktail before taking his beer. “Thanks,” he said to the waitress before turning his attention back to Willow. He didn’t say anything, just stared at her while nursing his drink. Up close like this, and because he didn’t seem to mind staring at her, she could study him.
He hadn’t really changed over the years, not really. His lips were still full, his cheeks cut like diamonds, and his nose straight. His lashes were ridiculously long and his dimple still adorable.
A complete contradiction to be sure.
One didn’t refer to a SEAL as adorable unless one was describing the animal.
Quite simply, Logan Ambrose was the most handsome, sexiest... nicest, kindest man she’d ever known... even if she still saw him through the lenses of the girl he’d romanced—albeit chastely—at senior prom.
And the subsequent rescues.
But now, she was older and a whole other lens was required now—one of a twenty-five-year-old woman interested in a thirty-two-year-old man. There was no way she was too young for him now.
Gliding her hand along his pectorals, she watched as his muscles jumped in reaction. The urge to follow her path with kisses was hard to ignore, but there was something holding her back.
Mostly the fear of rejection.
Silly, Willow. If he didn’t want you to touch him, he would have stopped you before now.
She shook her head, the straw brim of her hat flopping as she continued to explore him. He was like hot velvet over steel.
Suddenly, he plucked the hat from her head, and her gaze jerked to his. “Couldn’t take any more of those teasing glimpses of your face.”
Although her heart beat like crazy in her chest, she couldn’t help but say, “Do you still remember who I am?”
“Willow—the woman who accompanied me down the aisle at my brother’s wedding. The woman I’ve saved so many times that I don’t remember them all. Except the last one—delivery truck nearly took you out.”
Holy crap. “You really do remember me.”
“That I do.” He plopped her hat on his head. It should have looked ridiculous, but he made it look sexy. Still, she couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.
“Your head is too big,” she teased.
“That’s exactly what I need to hear,” he said softly. “Keep talking, Blue Eyes.”
“About the size of your head?”
That sexy smile of his curved his lips. “Anything you want. I like your voice... your laugh. You feel like home to me.” Vulnerability flashed in his eyes, but then it was gone before she could blink twice.
“I don’t think you flew all the way out here just to be reminded of home.”
His hands settled on her hips again, pulling her close so quickly that she had to use both hands to brace herself against his chest. “That’s true. I came out here to forget.”
“Then why do you want to spend time with me?” she couldn’t help but ask.
Oh, shut up, Willow.
“Liked the way you filled out your bikini,” he said, dimple flashing in his cheeks.
She rolled her eyes. “You are such a fraud—‘you feel like home to me’,” she said with a snort. “Whatever.”
“I liked what I saw. Stayed for the feeling.” His head dipped, his mouth coming dangerously close to hers. Never in her life had she courted danger, but he made her want to.
Desperately.
“I like how you make me feel,” she whispered, wrapping her hands around his neck. She pressed her breasts against him, and a low groan rumbled from his
chest. “I don’t want that feeling to leave.”
He licked his bottom lip. “Not going anywhere.” His palms slid up her waist, following the contours of her body. “Nothing could make me leave.” His lips pressed against her neck, and she gasped in pleasure.
Her nipples hardened so quickly that they hurt. She rubbed her thighs together as a warm ache spread through her. “Me either.”
One of his powerful thighs slid between her legs and pressed up. A small moan left her, and then his mouth was on hers, drinking in her sounds as he began to manipulate her body.
Eyes fluttering closed, she dug her fingers into his wide shoulders and simply felt.
Everything.
This was Logan kissing her. The man of her dreams was kissing her. No, not kissing her. Possessing her mouth. Making her mind whirl and her body fill with pleasure. So much pleasure and desire that it felt as though she was falling.
“Get a room,” someone catcalled.
Willow snapped out of her trance, her face heating with embarrassment and not from the pleasure of his touch. “Stop.”
Logan gazed at her, his dark eyes questioning, even as he did exactly as she asked. “We’re in Vegas. Who cares about what someone else thinks?”
“I care that this will end up on YouTube,” she said, nodding in the direction of the guy who had taunted them. Sure enough, he had his phone out.
“Fuck. What is it with people and recording every damn minute of the day?” he grumbled. He stood, water sloshing her way as he grabbed her by the waist and hefted her in the air. Swinging her to one side, he deposited her by the side of the pool, and he’d done it all without breathing hard.
Water dripped down her body as she watched him haul himself up and over the side. She couldn’t help but admire the graceful movements, or how the muscles on his arms bulged and flexed.
He grabbed his drink. “Let’s go someplace else.”
“Okay.” Without questioning where, she scooped up her shoes and followed him. Her floppy hat was still perched on his head, but that didn’t stop women from ogling him.
Willow couldn’t blame them one bit, mostly because she was doing the same. His tall, muscular body was poetry in motion. His ass divine. The scars on his back, along with the multiple tattoos, were dangerously sexy. He belonged with a super model or a famous actress, not a wedding planner from Nowheresville, North Carolina.
Corinne had been a fool to cheat on him. While Willow hated that he was hurting because of his ex, she refused to let this opportunity slip from her fingers. Out of every woman in Las Vegas, he’d found her and asked her to spend time with him. That had been her body he’d had his hands on. Her lips he’d kissed.
Tipping up her chin a little, she sped up until she was walking right beside him. Okay, so she might have had to jog a little to keep up with his long strides, but she didn’t care.
He glanced at her, a slow smile on his lips before he took a pull of his beer. “Thought you’d left me.”
“You still have my hat.”
“Ouch. There went my ego.”
“My room key is hidden inside.”
His dimples flashed. “That’s better.”
“I do want to be with you. I’ve always wanted to be with you, ever since you danced with me at prom. Every time you saved me, I wanted you that much more,” she blurted, and he stopped. She almost breezed right past him, but he caught her by the elbow and pulled her back.
“What did you say?” he all but barked at her.
More than a little nervous, she swallowed before answering, “I said I wanted to be with you.”
“And the rest?”
She blushed, her gaze skittering away. “You probably don’t remember, but you made my senior prom memorable. It was my birthday, too.”
“I remember,” he said firmly.
“Thirty minutes ago, you barely recognized me,” she pointed out.
“I’m mostly drunk, Willow. Give a guy a break.”
Her brows crashed together. “So you only want to spend time with me because you’re mostly drunk?”
“No.” His jaw worked. “Told you I liked what I saw. And felt.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she said, suddenly mortified. Heat began to creep up her neck. “If you could give me my hat back, please.”
Without a word, he took off her hat and grabbed the key, still in the hotel mini-envelope, from where she’d taped it inside. He studied it for a moment, then handed it over. “Here.”
“Hat, too, please.”
“But I like the hat.”
“It doesn’t fit you.”
“Doesn’t fit you either. Couldn’t see your gorgeous face.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to flatter me now. I’m leaving, remember?”
“You can have your hat back.” He set the hat on top of his head once more. “Tonight. After dinner with me.”
“You want to go on a date?” Her heart should be thrilled at the thought. She should be swooning, but, at the moment, all she wanted to do was punch him in the gut, run to her room, and not come out until it was time to fly back to Holland Springs.
“I do.”
“Well, I don’t.” She rose on her tiptoes and snatched her hat from him. He lunged for her, but she neatly sidestepped him, causing him to ram into a table. “Nice seeing you, Logan. Thanks for the drink.”
Darting inside, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following her. He wasn’t. In fact, there were two women with concern on their faces already at his side. Willow groaned. Of course, that was her fault. She’d made him hurt himself, and those ladies jumped at the opportunity to coo over him.
While she... while she just turned down a date with the man she’d been in love with for years.
“There goes your last chance,” she whispered. Tears pricked at her eyes. There was nothing she could do now. He’d probably laugh at her, or worse, since he was mostly drunk, not even remember asking her in the first place.
Even as her heart hurt, she looked on the bright side of things.
At least what happened in Vegas stayed there.
Chapter Three
Logan wasn’t exactly sure why things had gone wrong with Willow. One minute, they were going at it, hot and heavy in the pool, and on their way to either her room or his to finish what they’d started... then, suddenly, he was denied.
Full stop.
Cock-blocked.
Yeah, that was slightly dramatic, but damn, her dismissal had been a blow to the ego, and he barely had any ego left. Corrine had made sure of that.
The image of walking in on Corrine playing hide the pickle with his battle buddy was forever burned into his retinas. Too bad he needed those to see. Worse still had been her response at getting caught. She hadn’t given a damn.
She’d also asked him to join them.
His buddy had looked scared shitless.
While he... Well, he was ready to tear the room apart with his bare hands. How fucking hard would it have been for her to be honest with him? But deep down, he’d suspected. Worse, he’d acted like a complete asshole to anyone who dared to try to look out for him.
Like when his twin, Luke, tried to get him to see the truth.
Corinne’s betrayal was almost enough to make him give up on the fairer sex.
Almost.
But he couldn’t find it in him to paint fifty percent of the population with a tainted brush because of her.
He liked women.
Actually, he loved women. Always had.
Before he found Corinne and Xander together, he wanted to settle down and get married. Raise a family. Hell, he’d been trying to find a job in Virginia instead of asking her to move back to Holland Springs. He’d tried to do the right thing by her.
Guess that had gotten him nothing.
What did it say about him that he’d stayed with a woman simply because she was loyal to him? To be fair, Corinne had put up with his schedule, put up
with his moods, and put up with the way he couldn’t sleep for shit at night.
He had to give her that, at least.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he groaned at his situation. Maybe he was in over his head again, falling for a hot body with a pretty face who knew exactly what to say to him.
I do want to be with you. I’ve always wanted to be with you, ever since you danced with me at prom. Every time you saved me... I wanted you that much more.
A woman like Willow didn’t blurt out lines like that for shits and giggles. She’d meant it.
Whatever he’d done wrong, he’d make it up to her by apologizing and taking her to dinner. And he didn’t have to worry about trying to find her either, because he had her room number memorized.
1092.
*
After a hot shower and several cups of coffee, Logan felt sober enough to face Willow again. This time, he would have his wits about him. And, more likely than not, she would appreciate non-drunk him asking her to dinner.
Shit. Forget asking. He would insist she have dinner with him.
Punching her floor number in the elevator, he clasped his hands behind his back and mulled over the best way to apologize. Usually, when Corinne was mad, she’d require a gift to get back in a good mood. Since he had no idea what Willow liked, that was out of the question.
Although, he could have texted Heath and asked him to ask Haven. What was wrong with him? Such a simple plan that he could have already had in action, yet here he stood, with exactly nothing to offer her.
The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. He stepped into the hallway, trying not to breathe in the smoke that wafted up from the casinos. Yeah, all the hotels claimed to have smoke-free floors, but when half the population of Holland Springs was downstairs chain smoking while playing Keno... it was hard to keep it contained.
88, 89, 90, 91... 92
He stopped, then rapped on her door and waited.
No answer.
Frowning, he rapped again. He knew he was in the right place. So either she was avoiding him or she wasn’t there.
Again, what was wrong with him? He was completely off his game, his life really. Corinne had screwed with his head. She made him question all the time and energy he’d put into their relationship. When he was off training and they’d have downtime, he’d had the opportunity for strange. Women wanted to get with SEALs.
The Christmas Bride (Brides of Holland Springs Book 4) Page 3