Meg suspected there was more Logan wasn’t telling her. “You’ve always loved your son.”
He turned from the stream then and looked at her, the memories clouding his eyes. “Yes. But there was this tension between Shelley and me that seemed to grow each day. I didn’t understand it until the night she died.”
“What was it?”
The lines on his face deepened, and the muscle in his jaw worked. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that Travis always saw me as the bad guy. I enforced discipline and rules. I made him take out the garbage. And too many nights, I wasn’t there to be part of putting him to bed, taking him roller-skating, reading to him. I thought moving to Willow Valley would change that. But he was twelve by then.”
“Travis is a good kid, Logan.”
“Maybe he is. But I’m not like you, Meg. I don’t know how to nurture. Watching you with Manuel and Carmen’s baby made me wonder how I ever thought I could be a good parent.”
She took a step closer to him. How she wanted to ease his pain. How she wanted to help him find a bond with his son. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“No, I’m being realistic.”
“It’s never too late to learn or fix or start again. Not if two people are willing.”
“But Travis isn’t willing.”
“Logan…”
“I don’t want to argue with you,” he said evenly.
“What do you want?” As soon as the question came out, she regretted it because she remembered their conversation in the kitchen.
Desire flashed in his eyes. Reaching out, he tenderly stroked her chin. “You know what I want.”
“Satisfying some physical need won’t solve anything.”
“No, but we’d have a hell of a good time doing it.”
The blush crawled up her cheeks, but she didn’t take her gaze from him. She couldn’t deny the strength of the attraction between them. But she could keep a lid on hers, for both their sakes.
When she didn’t respond to his comment, he asked, “Are you going back to the house?”
“In a little while.”
“More wading?”
“It’s peaceful here.”
He nodded as if he understood.
About an hour later, Meg called to Logan from the back door. “Lunch.”
He waved at her from the roof so she’d know he heard. She didn’t go inside right away, but watched him from the doorway. He wondered what was going through her mind, if it was as arousing as what was going through his. She closed the door, and he walked to the ladder.
When he entered the kitchen, only Meg sat at the table sipping iced tea with the kitten sleeping in her lap. “Lily and Ned?” he asked.
“They’ve already eaten. Lily left a note saying she’s resting and the sandwiches are in the refrigerator. I don’t know what happened to Ned.”
“I saw him heading to the side of the house with the pruning shears.”
Meg waved to the plate of sandwiches on the table and the bowl of potato salad. “Help yourself.”
Unfortunately she was talking about the food.
After washing his hands at the sink, he pulled out the chair across from her. Lifting the glass of iced tea, he drank half of it.
Meg refilled his glass from the pitcher.
The kitten meowed in disapproval as she woke him by changing position.
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“Leo. I thought he looked like a lion cub when I found him.”
“You found him?”
“Out in the bushes one day, scared as could be. He was too little to have gotten here on his own. I think someone dropped him by the road, and he hid in the bushes.”
“You care, Meg. Do you know what a valuable quality that is?”
She petted the kitten, soothing and caressing. “Whatever I know, I learned from Aunt Lily and Uncle Ned.”
“Maybe. But I think some of it’s innate. A magic touch that can’t be bought or learned.”
Raising her head, she fixed him with a probing stare. “You know what I think?”
He shifted on his chair. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. You expect yourself to do everything right, best, the perfect way. Don’t you think you’re expecting too much?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Scooping up the kitten, she stood and came around to him. “You talk about being realistic. Let’s try it.” Gently she set Leo in Logan’s lap.
“What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer.
The kitten padded from Logan’s left thigh to his right, looked up and meowed.
“Now what?” Logan growled. “He’d rather be on your lap.”
“I’m the interpreter, not you. He’s saying he’d like you to pet him.”
Logan frowned and lowered his hand to his lap. Leo went to it and rubbed his head against Logan’s thumb. When Logan gently rubbed the kitten’s cheek, Leo licked his finger.
Logan chuckled. “What do you want? I’m sure Meg feeds you.” He tore a tiny piece of cheese from the slice in his sandwich and held it on the pad of his thumb. Leo nibbled it into his mouth, then kept licking Logan’s finger. When no more cheese was forthcoming, he rolled his head against Logan’s palm.
“What do you feel, Logan?” Meg asked softly.
He felt protective of the small animal. The feeling came from the same source as his protective streak that ran deep for his son. Logan thought back to the night Travis was born. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. He’d offered his son his finger, and Travis had gripped it. The action might have been reflexive, but it had meant everything to Logan. He’d wanted to protect his son with a fierceness that remained through the years. But Travis had run away from him and his caring. It was obvious he’d failed not only as a husband, but as a father, too.
He lifted the kitten from his lap and held it out to Meg. “It doesn’t matter.”
She took Leo and cuddled him to her breast. “Yes, it does, Logan. You’re a caring man.”
“You haven’t known me very long.”
“I know enough.”
And he knew if she kept looking at him like that, he’d kiss her again. “Before this conversation gets us both in trouble, I think we’d better eat lunch.”
Shaking her head, she returned to her chair. “You and Travis are more alike than you know.”
He didn’t ask her what she meant, but picked up his sandwich.
Chapter 8
Not knowing if her idea would cause trouble or make an important point, Meg rang Logan’s doorbell late Sunday morning and shifted the wicker basket from her left hand to her right.
When Logan opened the door and saw her standing there, a slow smile spread across his face. “Are you inviting me on a picnic?”
“Not exactly. Can I come in?”
His smile faded, and he motioned her into the living room.
She slipped by him, her elbow brushing his stomach. Although he wore a T-shirt, she could vividly imagine his bare chest, the way his skin had felt under her hands, the texture of his hair. She was afraid too many impressions of Logan were burned into her mind forever. Pages of newspaper strayed across the couch as if Logan had been reading it when she’d rung the bell. The rest of the room was as orderly as she’d seen it before.
Carefully setting the wicker basket down in front of the coffee table, she knelt beside it. “I brought you a present.”
“Some of Lily’s apple dumplings?”
“Nope. Something a little more fun.” She unlatched the basket, and before she could open the lid, Leo’s head popped out. He took a look around and meowed.
Meg opened both sides of the basket. “I have a few more things in the car to bring in.” Before Logan could recover from his surprise, she escaped out the door.
When she returned, Logan stood, hands on hips, watching the kitten as he meowed and rubbed against his sneaker. L
ogan’s gaze found hers, and his scowl was fierce. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Giving you a gift, including supplies. Where do you want the litter box?” She set it on the floor, removing the sack of litter and the small cans of cat food.
“I don’t want it anywhere. I don’t want a cat.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not here most of the time.”
Leo clawed up Logan’s jeans to his knee. He gently pulled the kitten away from the material and handed him to Meg. “Here. It found a good home with you.”
She folded her arms and wouldn’t accept the kitten. “He’ll find a good life here with you.” Ignoring the irritation emanating from Logan, she went to the kitchen. “Is it all right if I find a dish for water? I feed him one-third of a can three times a day.” When Logan didn’t answer her, she opened a cupboard and found a dish on her own.
He strode into the kitchen after her, the kitten nestled in the crook of his arm. “What kind of point are you trying to make?”
“No point.”
“You’re a lousy liar.”
She snapped the cupboard shut. “What point do you think I’m trying to make?”
“You think if I’m successful taking care of this cat, I won’t feel so frustrated about Travis. The one has nothing to do with the other.”
“Humor me. Try it for a week.”
“I’m not here that much,” he protested again.
“Cats are independent. They can occupy themselves. Give him some tinfoil balls, tie a string to the chair, he’ll be happy. Oh, and don’t forget to pet him. Between you and Travis, he’ll get plenty of attention.”
“Meg, read my lips. I don’t want a cat.”
Meg couldn’t suppress her grin as she stood there watching Logan and Leo. Logan’s combative stance and tone, as well as his annoyance, directly contradicted the picture of the kitten snuggled against his chest. “I knew he’d like you.”
Logan swore, lifted Leo and set him on the floor.
Meg filled a saucer with water. “Should I put his dish by the table?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but set the saucer on the floor in an out-of-the-way spot by the wall. Leo came over to investigate. When she stood, Logan was right there, the intent to argue with her and win creasing his brow.
He hadn’t shaved. Beard stubble darkened his jaw, and she longed to run her fingers along its outline. His hair was rumpled as if he hadn’t yet bothered to comb it or else he’d run his fingers through it many times. He looked rakish and altogether too sexy for her to stay in his house alone with him for very long.
“One week, Logan. Let Leo live here for a week before you make a decision.”
He clasped her shoulders. “You are one exasperating woman.”
Just the weight of his hands on her shoulders excited her, urged her to raise her lips to his for a kiss. But she knew better. Instead, she retorted, “And you are one very stubborn man. You really aren’t even supposed to think about giving back a gift.”
He slid his hands from her shoulders to her neck and rubbed his thumbs along her jaw. “You are a gift.”
Her mouth went dry, her heart raced and everything inside her screamed for his kiss and his touch. “Don’t be silly.”
“What’s silly is the two of us arguing about a cat when we could be doing something much more satisfying.”
“Logan…”
“Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”
She could hardly catch her breath, but she managed to say, “I can’t.”
He tilted her chin up and stared deep into her eyes…into her heart. “I’m glad you came into my life. You’ve brought me light and smiles and passion I forgot I once had.”
His low, murmured words aroused her as much as his hand on her face. She swayed toward him and his desire.
Every one of Logan’s kisses was different. She never knew what to expect. He didn’t home in on her lips, but targeted the soft spot behind her ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck so she wouldn’t fall.
She felt him smile against her neck, then he murmured, “You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled and kissed her there again. “I like a woman who knows her mind.” He stroked down her back, cupped her bottom and brought her tight against him.
Not caring if she was acting wanton, she kissed his jaw and searched for his lips. Logan groaned deep in his throat when she found them. But he wouldn’t let her kiss him. He pecked at her nose, softly kissed her cheek, drove her crazy with teasing nips that only made her want to kiss him more. Time stood still as she grabbed at his shoulders, aware of the bunched muscles under her hands, the passion stringing his body tighter and tighter. She could feel that same passion coiling inside her. With each heartbeat, she became more aware of her needs—to be treated, wanted and loved for herself, not for what she did or said or accomplished. Logan’s desire for her opened a new world, more adventurous than traveling, more difficult than interpreting. It asked her to give more than her knowledge and talent. It asked her, no—demanded—that she give herself, all she was, maybe all she could be.
When Logan finally set his lips on hers and demanded to taste her, she accepted the demand because she wanted the satisfaction, too. Because when he tasted her, aroused her, consumed her, she could taste, arouse and consume him. Give and take. Equal to equal. Man to woman. Woman to man. She didn’t have to worry about being good enough or pleasing him or responding too eagerly because Logan obviously understood her needs and answered them with his.
He slowed the darting of his tongue and hers, prolonging the strokes and prolonging the pleasure. Lost in the rocking of their bodies, the intensity of a kiss that was fast becoming too much to control, Meg heard a noise but didn’t let it register. She didn’t want anything to interfere; she didn’t want…
A louder noise made Logan tear away. He swore under his breath, and Meg didn’t understand until she heard someone say, “Not bad, Sheriff MacDonald. Do you give lessons?”
Meg vaguely recognized the voice. With Logan’s arm still surrounding her, she opened her eyes. Travis stood in the living room with one of his friends, looking embarrassed and angry at the same time. He gave his friend a push. “Go back to my room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Kyle didn’t follow directions. “I’d rather stay here and watch.”
The muscles in Logan’s arm tightened, and so did his jaw. “You know you’re not welcome here, Kyle.”
“That was before Travis took off. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”
Travis gave Kyle a “keep quiet” look and challenged his father. “He’s my friend. I want him here.”
“And I want you to stay out of trouble. If you’re with him, you won’t.”
“I don’t pick your friends. You don’t get to pick mine.”
Neither of the MacDonalds was about to back down. Meg thought about intervening, but before she could, Leo darted into the living room and clawed his way onto the sofa.
Travis looked at the kitten. “What’s that?”
Meg smiled and stepped away from Logan’s arm. “That’s your new housemate. Think you can take good care of him?”
Travis shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.” He turned back to Logan. “Look, Dad. Kyle and I can listen to a new CD here or we can go over to his place. It’s your call.”
Meg knew Logan hated being backed into a corner.
His voice was rough when he finally said, “All right. You can stay here. But I’m warning you both, stay on the straight and narrow or I’ll come down on you so fast your heads will spin.”
Kyle saluted Logan with a smile. “Yes, sir.”
Travis gave his friend a vigorous shove. “Go. Before you get us both thrown in jail.”
Logan watched the boys take off down the hall. “I don’t trust Kyle. Not for a minute. I picked him up for shoplifting last year. Before Travis ran off, I caught the two of them drinking.”
“Travis must see something he likes in Kyle.”
Logan shook his head. “Kyle’s dad left when he was ten. His mom’s having a hard time making ends meet.”
“Maybe Travis senses a loneliness in Kyle that he feels. Losing a parent is tough.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
Meg crossed to the couch. Now that she and Logan were alone again, she felt awkward about their kiss. “Do you think Kyle will spread around what he saw?”
Logan followed her. “Do you mind if he does?”
She petted Leo, who’d fallen asleep on the couch. “It won’t affect me. I don’t live here. You do.”
“I don’t give a damn about what anyone says. Why should I?”
“No, I guess you wouldn’t. Things like that enhance a man’s reputation.”
He took her by the arm. “I don’t have a reputation. Not for that. Between grieving, keeping Travis in line and working, I haven’t had time for much else.”
“There hasn’t been anyone since Shelley?”
“No.”
“Not even—?”
“Anything casual? I know better. What about you?”
She realized now how insulting the question sounded. Logan wasn’t the type of man to take anything casually. “I’m sorry I asked. I…”
His voice was husky when he responded, “You can ask me anything you want. That doesn’t mean I’ll answer, but you can ask.”
The two sides of Logan fascinated her. One side was hard and demanding; the other was compassionate and gentle. She’d guess the one protected the other. “I’d better go.”
“So Leo and I can get to know each other better?”
She smiled and walked to the door. “Something like that.” Opening the door, she shot over her shoulder, “One more thing, Leo likes to sleep with someone. So you might find him nestled at your feet in the morning.”
The Sheriff’s Proposal Page 10