by Debbie Mason
“GG was a feisty, outspoken old girl. She got worse as she got older and wasn’t shy to let anyone know how she felt about them. She must’ve liked you.” He smiled, thinking about his great-grandmother while at the same time wondering why he didn’t remember either Jenna or her mother.
Then again, he’d never lived in Harmony Harbor full-time. When they were young, summers and the occasional holiday were spent at the manor. Back then, if he and his brothers had their way, they would’ve lived there year-round, but his mother had hated the manor and his grandmother and great-grandmother. And now Maura was living at Greystone and was best buds with his grandmother and the Widows Club. If that wasn’t telling, he didn’t know what was.
“It’s such a gorgeous night, I’m surprised no one else is here,” she said as he pulled the blanket from the bag.
He spread it out. “That’s what happens when you live in a place too long. You take it for granted, get caught up in the minutiae of everyday life and don’t take advantage of what’s in your own backyard. The grass always looks greener on the other side.”
“I wouldn’t know.” She grinned, hobbling to the blanket. He reached out to help her down. She immediately stretched out on top of it, patting the spot beside her.
Logan straightened, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched the way the light from the full moon turned the waves into rolling spools of silver. He needed a minute to remind himself why he was here before he took his place beside Jenna, who lay there waiting for him. With her inviting smile, feminine curves, and sexy legs on display, she didn’t look like a woman who’d just had her heart broken. She looked like a woman ready to take advantage of the starlit night and secluded beach.
Until she said, “Come on, my trusty steed. Let’s see who can find the North Star and the Little Dipper first.”
Logan relaxed and joined her on the blanket with a laugh. “I grew up stargazing, and I have ten years on you. I’ll give you a head start.”
“You may be ten years older, but I doubt you spent as many nights as I did wishing on the stars. I’m the one who should be giving you a head start.”
No doubt she was right. Most of the time, he went stargazing with a date. They didn’t spend much time looking at the night sky.
“Look”—she pointed—“a shooting star. There’s another one.” She closed her eyes and squinched up her nose.
“What did you wish for?” he asked.
“That your mom’s okay, and that you are too.”
“You shouldn’t have wasted your wish on me.”
“It was better than wasting it on me. I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t feel like me.”
He cupped the side of her face as he leaned in to touch his lips to her cheek, but she turned her head and his mouth settled on hers instead. He went to draw back, but she covered his hand with hers. “Don’t stop. I want you to kiss me.”
He stroked her cheek with his thumb, looking into her pretty eyes, which reflected the light from the moon. “Trust me, you think it’ll make you feel better, but it won’t. You’ve had a crappy day. You’ve had a lot to drink. It’s not a good idea.”
“I’m not stone-cold sober, but I’m not drunk. I know exactly what I’m doing and what I want. And what I want is to have sex, with you. Cherry’s right. I need—”
“Don’t listen to Cherry, Jenna. Rebound sex is not what you need right now.”
“I don’t think you have a magical penis and everything will be better because we have sex, Logan. I just want to feel something other than this tightness in my chest and this heavy weight in the pit of my stomach.”
He was torn between laughing at her magic penis remark, wanting to kiss the hurt from her face, and easing his own worries about his mother and his job by losing himself inside of her. Just when he thought the laughter would win out, she rolled into him. “Please,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his.
And Logan, who’d never been able to deny a woman what she wanted—and he reluctantly admitted to wanting it too—gave in despite the feeling that he was making one of the biggest mistakes of his life.
Chapter Seven
Jenna had sex on the beach, and she wasn’t talking about the drink. Worse, she had a feeling she was no longer alone on said beach, and she was definitely not alone on the blanket. Logan was sprawled beside her, bare-chested, bare-footed, but thankfully jeans-clad, even if said jeans were unbuttoned and revealing a tantalizing…
Any further thought about Logan’s happy trail slammed to a halt when a cool morning breeze flirted with her upper thighs and inched its way higher. Praying she was wrong and she wasn’t as naked as the day she was born, Jenna lifted the jean jacket that covered her. Nope, she was not wrong, not wrong at all.
At the sound of young male voices just beyond the sand dunes, she swallowed a panicked whimper and pushed up on an elbow to look for her missing clothes. Unless they were buried in the sand, her panties, crinoline, and the top of her dress were gone. Wondering if the laughter she heard in those young male voices had anything to do with her missing clothes, she pushed herself higher to peek through the tall grass swaying in the breeze on the adjacent dune. She clutched Logan’s jean jacket to her chest, thinking she was lucky he was a big man because she wasn’t as indecently exposed as she might’ve otherwise been.
“Jesus.” A gruff, sleep-laden voice came from behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, unable to swallow an oh crap cry when she realized her front might be covered but her behind was exposed. And she realized this because Logan’s eyes had gone wide.
Somewhere in the far recesses of her mind she was wondering what was with the shocked expression on his handsome face. She knew for a fact the man wasn’t a prude. Besides that, it wasn’t as if her clothes had magically come off on their own. He’d gotten her naked, with some help from her, of course. Okay, so a lot of help. She’d helped him get naked too. She blamed what might be characterized as her overly enthusiastic helpfulness on the full moon and an almost fervent need to erase Lorenzo and Gwyneth from her mind.
Logan had proved incredibly adroit at erasing them off the face of the planet. She frowned at the shadowy memory swimming its way to the surface. She could tell by the way her stomach jittered and jived that whatever she’d forgotten about last night she didn’t want to remember right now. Yesterday’s debacle had been more than enough to deal with, thank you very much. Today was all about regrouping and finding a way to move on, which meant she’d need some help from the man who now had an oh crap look on his face.
“Sorry, I—” She was two words into apologizing for mooning him when he shot to his feet with the corners of the blanket clutched in his hands. Doing the walk of shame down Main Street half-naked would’ve been better than this, Jenna decided. He obviously regretted last night big-time.
Hoping to ease the morning-after awkwardness, she said, “So, I gu—” The ess came out on a squawk as Logan whipped the blanket out from under her, rolling her face-first into the sand. She blinked her eyes in shock and then lifted her head to spit out the grains that filled her mouth. What had happened to her incredibly hot, protective, and considerate one-night stand? Barely had the question formed in her head than her stomach did a nosedive to her toes, taking that shadowy memory from late last night along with it. Jenna had a feeling once she remembered what her mind was clearly trying to protect her from, she’d want to dive into the deep end of the ocean.
“I didn’t moon you on purpose, you know. And I get that you obviously have somewhere else you’d rather be, but you didn’t have to practically drown me in the sand.” She looked up as the blanket floated over her and then covered her, leaving her in the dark.
“Be quiet,” he muttered, and sat on the blanket, his hip tucked into her side. “Don’t move. Poppy Harte’s at the other end of the beach, and she has a long-range lens on her camera.”
Along with owning the Harmony Harbor Gazette with her brother, Poppy did wedding photography o
n the side, which was how Jenna had met the woman last month. Arianna had hired her for Jenna’s big day, which meant Poppy was one more person she had to call and cancel, and one more deposit to cover. She groaned into the arms she’d crossed beneath her face to avoid inhaling any more sand.
“I’m serious, Jenna. Not another word or sound and stay perfectly still. She’s headed this way,” he whispered, and it sounded like he was doing it out of the side of his mouth.
Okay, so it wouldn’t look good if they were caught. Especially for Jenna, who was half-naked, and who, up until approximately sixteen hours ago, had been a happy, albeit clueless, bride-to-be. But she and Logan were consenting adults and the Gazette was a small-town paper, not the National Enquirer. It wasn’t like they’d want half-naked pictures on the front page of the paper, even if the shirtless and shoeless man beside her looked like he’d stepped off People’s issue of the Sexiest Man Alive. So maybe they’d want Logan’s photo on the front page after all, but Jenna had liked Poppy and didn’t think the woman would take advantage of the situation for professional gain. Unless…
“You haven’t slept with Poppy too, have you?” she whispered, her cheeks warming a bit as she asked. It wasn’t her business, but it was a legitimate question given their current situation. If the answer was yes, he had indeed had sex with the attractive blonde, then Poppy might not be willing to keep this on the downlow.
“No, I haven’t had sex with Poppy. Why would you even ask? Don’t answer. I’m not joking around, Jenna. If Wilson finds out about this, it gives credence to his theory , so not another word.”
Jenna angled her head under the blanket, thinking about what he said. As she did, it hit her that they’d have far bigger worries to contend with than Officer Ryan Wilson if word got out about Jenna and Logan’s night at the beach. Because while Lorenzo might’ve cheated on her, with her stepmother no less, the idea that Jenna would jump under the blanket with another man mere hours after Lorenzo dumped her…Yeah, his Italian-male pride wouldn’t be able to handle the hit. He’d lash out. And Logan would be his target as much as her.
She shivered, and a heavy hand came to rest on her lower back mere inches from her behind, which sent another shiver down her spine. Only this one was heated and quickly spread throughout her body to settle low and heavy in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t a sexy, sultry heat; it was more. A feeling she’d experienced before. For other people, not herself. She certainly didn’t want to feel it now, with him. She quickly shoved a niggling memory from the night before back in the protective vault.
“Hey, Poppy. How’s it going?”
Jenna tensed under the blanket, wondering how Logan could sound so calm and cool. A silly thought given what he did for a living, she supposed. His strong fingers gently kneaded her lower back. She had a feeling he meant his touch to be comforting, but comforting wasn’t the word she’d use. Arousing, suggestive, erotic were just some of the words that instantly came to mind. She wished she could say the same of the feelings she’d had only seconds before. They’d be easier to explain if all they spoke to was desire.
“Good. How’s it going with you?” Jenna heard Poppy ask, picking up an undertone in the woman’s voice she couldn’t read.
“I’ve been better.”
Well, that didn’t say much for their night together, Jenna thought, and then silently berated herself. How did she expect the man to feel knowing he could lose his job and his mother might very well be dying? He’d opened up last night and shared his worries with Jenna. Having lost a mother to cancer herself, she could commiserate.
“I’m not surprised. We ran the story on the front page.” Okay, so that explained the hesitation Jenna had heard in Poppy’s voice. “Don’t worry. You came off a hero. Ryan and Lorenzo are no doubt getting hate e-mails as we speak. I’m sorry, Jenna. The guy’s an idiot. You deserve better.”
She felt Logan twist at the waist, like he was looking around. “Jenna? I don’t know—”
“Long-range lens, Logan. I saw her. You can come out now, Jenna.”
Now what was she supposed to do? As she tried to come up with a story to protect Logan, Jenna rolled over and sat up, clutching both the blanket and jean jacket to her chest. “Hi, Poppy,” she said sheepishly, speaking in a depressed monotone. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’m so ashamed. I don’t know what came over me. The thought of losing my business and Lorenzo to my stepmother was just too much for me to bear.” She placed a hand on Logan’s muscular forearm. “He really is a hero. I’d be dead if he hadn’t come along and saved me.”
Logan bowed his head and his broad, golden-brown shoulders rose on a deep inward breath.
Poppy looked from him to Jenna. “Are you saying you tried to…kill yourself?”
“It’s so hard to hear you say it out loud. And I’m deeply ashamed to admit my weakness, but yes, I tried to drown myself. I heard it was a peaceful way to go. That’s what happens when you drink too much and you’re in a really bad place.”
Logan lifted his head to stare at her. “Jenna.”
She squeezed his forearm and refocused on Poppy. “Please don’t mention this to anyone. I’d die if word of this got out, especially to my sisters. And Lorenzo.”
“You can count on me. Mum’s the word.”
“Thank you. I’m so embarrassed you saw me like this. Logan gave me his jean jacket and T-shirt to wear, and now I can’t find my clothes. You wouldn’t have seen them, would you?”
Poppy shook her head and then turned to scan the beach. As she did, Logan leaned over and grabbed his T-shirt from the sand, holding Jenna’s gaze as he shook it out and then tossed it to her, obviously not pleased.
She lifted a shoulder. What did he expect her to say? He should be thanking her for throwing herself under the bus on his behalf.
His lips remained flat and he gave his head an annoyed shake as he removed the blanket from her hands, creating a tent for her to make herself decent in privacy. Or as decent as you could be wearing an oversize T-shirt without a bra and panties.
She put on the jean jacket too, looking up when Logan asked, “What were you doing down here anyway?”
She peeked over the edge of the blanket to see that he was speaking to Poppy, not her.
“Someone found a nest of peepers last week, and I wanted to take some photos.” She lifted her camera, her eyes narrowing at the distant sound of boys laughing. She brought her camera to her eye, twisting the lens. Seconds later, she said, “I think I’ve found your missing clothes.”
Logan stood, shielding his eyes to look down the beach. She was thinking how incredible he looked while at the same time wondering how much effort it must take to keep his body in the shape it was in when she caught his lips twitching. She sighed. “They’re wearing them, aren’t they?”
“Nope, using them as flags.”
Jenna was all for letting them keep her clothes—the thought of retrieving her underwear from the boys was embarrassing—but Arianna would kill her if she didn’t come home with her wedding gown. She thought of the tattered, bloodstained layers of tulle sitting in Logan’s truck and considered driving back to Charleston instead. Both options were equally unappealing. Maybe she’d start over someplace new, like Timbuktu.
She started off at a determined walk when her ankle reminded her that it was sprained, shooting a jarring pain down her foot. It was all she could do to keep from crying out.
“Are you okay?” Poppy asked.
“I’m good, thanks.”
Logan took her by the arm, turning her back to the blanket. “Sit. I’ll get your clothes.”
“Bossy man. Annoying too,” she said as he headed off down the beach, glancing under her lashes at Poppy to see if her cranky tone of voice had fooled the woman. Jenna had to play the role of devastated jilted bride. And devastated jilted brides wouldn’t be drooling over another man. The thought gave her pause. Why did she have to playact? She was a devastated jilted bride, wasn’t she? Her lack of emotio
n didn’t validate the description of herself, at least the devastated part, and that gave her cause to pause again. Maybe she was in shock.
“Don’t forget off-the-charts gorgeous. Look at how ripped he is. The man’s back forms a perfect V,” Poppy said, joining Jenna on the blanket.
She was relieved when the woman brought her camera to her eye, hoping it meant she’d stop talking. Jenna already knew Logan was exceptional in pretty much every way and didn’t need Poppy to validate her opinion. Okay, so that probably wasn’t a good sign. She was having more of an emotional reaction to her one-night stand than to her ex-fiancé dumping her.
“Oh my gosh, I never thought I’d capture anything like this. It’s amazing.”
“I don’t want to sound judgy or anything, but I’m not sure it’s appropriate for you to be objectifying Logan that way. I understand it’s hard to look at him and not—”
“What are you talking about?” Poppy said as she pushed to her feet. “I found the nest and a baby peep.”
“Really?” She’d lived in Harmony Harbor for twelve years before moving to Charleston and had never seen a baby sandpiper, or a peep, as the locals called them. Jenna carefully rose to her feet to follow.
“Here, lean on me.” Poppy offered her arm. “How did you hurt your ankle?”
“When it looked like Lorenzo and Ryan were going to make trouble for Logan, I ran to get Michael at the Salty Dog and tripped over my wedding gown.”
“Ah, so that’s where you were going.” At Jenna’s quizzical frown, Poppy said, “I must’ve taken the photo of you before you tripped. We entitled it Runaway Bride. You’re on the front page.”
Jenna stopped halfway up the sand dune. “So, basically, you’ve put every moment of one of the worst days of my life on the front page of the Gazette.”
“Second and third pages too. These two are my favorites though.” She turned the screen to Jenna.
The first was a photo of Logan striding across the road with her in his arms. “I didn’t see you there.”