by Aubrey Irons
“Who said anything about romance?”
I can feel my face getting hotter by the second as I start to lose my hold on my thoughts and as they begin to drift to all the dirty fantasies I’ve been having about him.
Suddenly the room itself begins to feel warmer and smaller the longer I spend in it alone with him
“I need to go,” I say, shaking my head and starting towards the door.
“Hang on.” He reaches out and grabs my arm.
I try and ignore the feeling of heat and buzzing electric current on my arm where he’s touching me as he steers me back around.
“Are you going to be like this every time we meet, because if so, I’m done.” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.
He grins. “You wouldn’t, not with what it would mean for your research group funding.”
“Try me.”
His grin falters for just a second. “Fine. No, Doc, I won’t be.”
“Good.” I can feel my own smirk on my face, feeling this momentary feeling of triumph.
“Will you?” He’s shrugging his jacket off and draping it over the back of his chair.
I frown at him. “Excuse me?”
“Be all moody and clearly sexually frustrated like this every time we need to be together for this project?” Logan starts to casually unbutton his dress shirt, and button after button reveals more and more hard muscled chest and etched lined ink of his tattoos.
“No, I- What are you doing?”
He shrugs. “Oh, I have a free hour so I was going to head down to the gym. What?”
He’s trying to act like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to be taking his shirt off in front of me in his damn office. He reaches for his belt-buckle and smirks at me.
Goddamn him. He’s trying to tease me and get a rise out of me, and I’m pissed because I know it’s kind of working.
That fucking cocky smirk is right back on his face, and I feel my cool dropping. “Oh please fuck off.”
I turn my back as he starts to lower his pants, if only because I feel like I should, even if part of me is dying to see Logan in just his boxers.
Get a grip, lady. I mutter to myself.
“OK, you can look now,” he says sarcastically. I turn and find myself almost disappointed that he’s actually wearing shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt.
“Listen, you know Peyton will probably treat you better if you let her know you can stand up to her.”
“I didn’t come here to play power-games.” I sneer.
“Can I be honest?” He says with that infuriating grin on his face. I shoot him a look, and he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m gonna take that as a yes. You’re a pushover, Quinn.”
“I am not!” I huff at him, feeling the heat bloom up through my chest.
“Yes you are!” His eyes flash at me and his voice is booming, and I find myself taking a step back from him.
“Fine. Whatever.”
He smirks at me. “See?”
My lip curls as I glare at him. “Did you just fucking yell at me to make a point?”
Logan nods his head at me. “Look, I’m just saying you should stick up for yourself more often, put up more of a fight.”
“You know what, Logan?” I sneer out. “Don’t think for one second that just because we- just because of what happened, that you know anything about me.”
“What, like that you were up for that team leader position at the hospital and you got pushed out by someone far less qualified than you?” I narrow my eyes at him and he grins. “Yeah, I heard that story.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Logan.”
“Ok, so she sucked his dick for the job? Yeah, heard that story too. Look I’m just saying you should be more assertive.”
“What, like I should have blown him too?”
A dark look flashes across his face and his jaw tightens for a second. “Fuck no, I’m saying if you just stood up for yourself a bit more, that shit never would’ve happened to begin with.”
“Says the guy keeping secrets from his best friends and fighting in weird underground boxing matches?”
“Not everything is what it looks like on the outside, you know.”
I force out a harsh laugh. “That’s my Dad’s line, not yours.”
“At some point, you are going to get bored of this whole ‘fuck you, Logan’ thing, right? I mean there’s no way it’s healthy to be this much of a bitch all the time, Quinn.”
I narrow my eyes at him, my fists clenching. “You want to see how healthy it is for you to call me a bitch again?”
Logan hoots. “Archer! Damn, looks like you do have a little fire in you, darlin.”
I huff my breath out and go to push past him, when he grabs me by the wrists and spins me around, and I gasp as I fall against his chest, my heart hammering in my veins.
His smell and the heat of his body just invade my senses, as well as any sense of keeping my wall up as I find myself speechless and staring up into his eyes with my breath caught on my lips.
“A little fire suits you pretty well, you know.” He growls, his eyes flashing at me.
“You don’t know what suits me.” I whisper, swallowing heavily as I find myself unable to look away from those deep eyes of his.
“Well we’ve got that jet to D.C. tomorrow for the meeting,” He says quietly, his voice thick and low. “How about I show you exactly what would suit you at 30,000 feet?”
My breath hitches at the thought of Logan Dempsey “showing me exactly what would suit me”, and I’m suddenly slowly leaning forward into him.
“What do you say, darlin,” he winks. “Think we should join the mile high club?”
And just like that, the spell shatters, and I realize it’s not some dream guy I’m inches away from kissing right here in his office.
It’s Logan fucking Dempsey. The polar opposite of my dream guy.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
But I’m shoving the voice in my head aside and then pushing away from Logan. My wide, doe-eyed stare turning to a scowl as I realize how close I came to just making the mistake all over again.
“Looks like some things are exactly what they look like on the outside, Logan.” I hiss, yanking my hand away from him.
I turn sharply on my heel and storm away before he can even open his mouth.
Chapter Seven
Logan
In a perfect world, it’d just be me and Quinn sitting on this plane tonight. Okay, in a perfect world we’d be doing a whole lot more than sitting, but I digress. In any case, a perfect world this is not, so instead I’m also stuck on my jet with two guys from our finance team and Peyton.
Quinn’s turned away from me and looking out the window, and as I catch myself staring at her, I also find myself weighing out the risks of what’s going on here. Whatever the nature of our, well, whatever this little train wreck of two people is, her even being around me is dangerous. Because of the fights, because of my past, and because of who I am. I’m like a fuckin magnet for violence, and it should go without saying that being around Quinn isn’t a good idea.
Of course, neither is sleeping with her, for that matter.
She clears her throat across the cabin from me, and I suddenly focus and realize I’ve just been staring at her and she’s busted me for it. There’s a hint of a grin on her face, as if she’s amused that she’s caught me like that, but then she rolls her eyes and looks away. Peyton is talking to me about God knows what, and I frown as I realize her hand is on my arm just about the same time Quinn catches the gesture and scowls at it. I excuse myself as politely as I can, leaving Quinn, Peyton, and the finance guys to continue going over some of the finer points of the contract.
As amusing as it is seeing Quinn Archer get all jealous and angsty - and it really is - I need to clear my head, and it's tough going while cooped on a plane with her.
I step out of the bathroom in the back of the jet directly into Quinn. I freeze at the co
ntact, feeling her body pressed against mine in the tight confines of the galley space by the back of the plane, and I can see her eyes go wide and her face go flushed as her breath catches in her throat.
She clears her throat. “Let me get by.”
“Relax, I’m trying.” But I’m not. At least, not that hard. I’m enjoying being this close to her too much, and I’m definitely enjoying the way I can see her pupils get wider and the way that adorable pink flushes across her cheeks.
Her mouth is half open, and she closes it with a snap as her eyes narrow at me. “Your little games aren’t cute, Logan.”
“What games?” I say as innocently as possible, trying and failing to hold back the grin on my face.
“Trying to rile me up. Those games.” She hisses, her eyes darting toward the front of the plane where the others are sitting with their backs to us, as if she’s worried how this might look with us being pressed together in the tight confines of the hallway.
“Listen, cute stuff, if I wanted to rile you up, you’d know it.”
She almost smiles as she rolls her eyes. “Oh please.”
“Is that a request?” I shrug. “OK.”
She gasps as I push her hard against the door to the galley kitchen behind her, letting my body press flat against her curves. I’m calling her bluff. Daring her to back down here, and I think she knows it even if she won’t play the game back. Her eyes flare with a fire in them and her chest hitches with her breath. Just that simple sound of her quiet gasp suddenly has me rock-hard in my pants, and that I know she knows about.
She shakes her head slowly. “I’m not falling for this kind of bullshit, Logan. Your little games aren’t working.”
I smirk as I let my eyes drop to the front of her shirt, seeing the telling outlines of her hard nipples poking beneath the fabric there. “Oh aren't they?”
She blushes bright red. “I’m not falling for that again.” She says quietly.
“Falling for what?” I growl lowly, leaning into her.
“That charm.”
“Oh so you do think I’m charming.”
I’m leaning even closer when she lets her breath out and rolls her eyes again, like the moment just faltered. “I think you’re delusional, and I told you, that isn't happening again.”
I move back from her. “Who said I want it to? You’re the one getting all hot and bothered around me.”
Her eyes blaze and she opens her mouth as if she’s about to scream at me before she snaps those pouty lips shut and turns her head to look away. And I want to kiss her so fucking badly in that moment. Kiss her and so much more. I want to take her right here in the back of my plane, the pilot, and the finance guys, and Peyton up front be damned.
But I don’t, obviously. And then the moment passes as soon as we hear one of the pilots come over the intercom about our decent into Dulles.
“Logan, let me go.” I look back at Quinn, looking at me with those big eyes. And all I can think about is the way she looked that night, when she took me in and took care of me. It’s lust I feel, immediately at least, but fuck it’s something else too. It’s the way she took in a stranger who looked like I did and made me whole.
I shake my head to clear it. Fuck, what am I doing? This is William's daughter for fuck’s sake. This is the definition of off-limits.
And then the moment is gone entirely as she pushes me back and slips away from me back towards the others.
Chapter Eight
Quinn
“I’m sorry again I couldn’t stay longer after the wedding.”
Major Lawson pulls out a chair for me at his desk in this extremely old-world and yet exceedingly grandfatherly way, and I can’t help but smile as I take a seat. The Major is every bit the stiff-upper-lip soldier-type, but I can also see why my Father and him were such good friends.
“Oh, that’s fine. You didn’t miss much, really.”
Well, I suppose you missed out on the spectacular and nuclear level event of me realizing the man I slept with and can’t get out of my head is in fact the most off-limits man in my entire world, not to mention my new brother-in-law.
I don’t say that, and instead just clear my throat.
“I know Reagan was really glad to have you there, and it meant a lot to Chelsea and me to have you be the one to give her away.”
He nods quietly and solemnly as he takes his own seat across the desk from me. “Well, I was no substitute for your Father, you know, but it was an honor to stand there in his place for his little girl on her day.”
“It would be the highest honor in a lifetime of medals,” he’d said when Reagan had asked him to be the one to walk her down the aisle and give her away in lieu of our Dad, and the memory of that makes me grin.
“He’d be extraordinarily impressed by the woman you’ve become. You know that don’t you?”
I smile, thinking of my Dad’s look of surprise when his black-haired, gothy little poetry fanatic of an eldest daughter informed him that she wanted to go to medical school. As if I hadn’t shocked him enough with black eyeliner and heavy metal up to that very point. It’s a look I wish I could’ve sealed up in a little bottle and carried around me with forever.
“Well, I guess maybe part of it is making up for what the company used to do.”
The Major nods. “Sins of the past, and all that. William always hated that part of the business, you know.” He says, sitting forward in his chair and studying my face. “He’d certainly look at the new direction those boys of his are taking Archer Holdings in as the right move, I know that.”
“Do you sell guns, Dad?”
“Who told you that?”
“I’m seventeen, I’m not stupid,” I frown, crossing my arms. “Is it true?”
“Not everything is black and white, Quinn. Sometimes life is a bit more complicated than a yes or no.”
I’d never liked it, back then when we were younger and my Father’s constant absence from our lives to visit places like Kosovo, or Libya, or whatever other place in the world was busy killing each other. We all sort of knew that our Dad’s company sold arms, and while I was hardly for that, I also never really held onto that hate like Reagan had. But now, through Hudson and hearing more about the man we all wished we’d known better, there’s a cathartic sort of healing element to knowing that he’d actually been visiting those places to do the opposite of what we’d all just assumed he was doing.
“Your Father would be very pleased to hear about it.” He smiles at me and shakes his head again. “But my, look at you, Quinn Archer. A doctor, and working for his company. He’d love it.” He leans forward and winks at me. “And again, I’m not William, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least check in with his daughters on his behalf.”
I grin and roll my eyes as I feel my cheeks burn a little. “Before you even ask it, no. No boyfriends.”
Major Lawson chuckles and shakes his head as he sits back in his chair. “I had to ask.”
I smile at him, “Let me guess. Dad left last will directions for you to have any ill-intended suitor sent to Guantanamo or something?”
He laughs deeply, the kind of laugh that sucks you right into it too, and he leans back again to wipe his eyes. “Something like that, yes.”
“Yeah, well, save your favor with the CIA, no boyfriends.”
“With your credentials and your mother’s looks?” The Major shakes his head. “What the hell is wrong with those idiots up there in New York?”
I snort. “I don’t even have time for dating! I mean first with the hospital work, and now the stuff with the outreach program, and then there’s Logan-”
The Major’s eyebrows twitch just enough for me to trip over my words, and I freeze.
“What about Logan?”
“Hmm?” I swallow, trying to make my face look as blank as possible. “Oh, nothing.”
Smooth, Quinn, so smooth.
“I just mean with him running the new healthcare program at Archer and everything. He ke
eps me pretty busy over there!”
The Major’s brow raises with just the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he nods. “Logan’s a good man, you know.”
I laugh, maybe a bit too harshly and quickly than I mean to. “He’s, uh, he’s something alright.”
“He can be prickly.”
I do hold back a snort this time, but Major Lawson chuckles. “You know, your father had a way of seeing things in people that others didn’t, including themselves.”
“Not everything is what it looks like on the outside, you know.”
So what is it that I see in Logan? What can I possibly -
No. I shake the thought from my head quickly. God, what am I thinking? I don’t see anything in Logan except a mistake I need to just put behind me and move on from. Except if that’s the case, why am I still dwelling on it? If Logan is such a cataclysmic and obvious bad decision, why am I having such a hard time getting him out of my damn head and just forgetting about the whole sordid thing?
I force myself to push the whole thing with Logan out of my head for the time being, and spend the next thirty minutes or so chatting with Major Lawson. But it’s right back there in my head the second I leave his office, it’s still floating around as I grab a coffee at a cafe down the street, and it’s still gnawing at me as I make my way over to the National Mall.
Ok, enough of this, I finally think, setting my jaw and staring across the reflecting pool. One mistake one night is not going to mess with my head this much, and I decide right then and there that it’s time to just cut this whole thing loose and just move on.
Simple.
“Been enjoying the view?”
I’m sitting on the steps near the top of the Lincoln Memorial when I turn to see Logan walking down towards me. “I was,” I say petulantly at him.
He smirks and nods his chin towards my chest. “Yeah, me too.”
I frown at his glance and look down to realize the top button of my shirt is open a bit more than it should be. I frown and try to shove the burning blush from my cheeks as I hastily button back up. “Do you always have to be the man-child?” I shake my head at him.