Trusting Tomorrow

by P. J. Trebelhorn

  Logan had enough. She walked into the house, but before she could shut the door behind her, Brooke forced her way inside.

  “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you,” she said.

  Logan stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. When she turned to face Brooke, she wasn’t prepared for the feelings welling up inside her. Brooke kept ranting, but Logan couldn’t hear a word of it over the pulse pounding in her ears. Her breathing quickened, and before she knew what she was doing, she had Brooke pressed up against the wall. She was still talking when Logan covered her mouth with her own. Brooke let out a whimper and Logan pressed her body more firmly against her.

  Logan’s need ratcheted up a notch when Brooke’s tongue slid along her lips, and her arms went around Logan’s neck, pulling her closer. Logan grabbed her wrists and raised Brooke’s arms above her head while pressing tighter against her body.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brooke asked when she turned her head and broke the kiss. Logan moved her mouth to Brooke’s neck, and Brooke rested her head against the wall, giving Logan better access.

  “It was the only way I could think of to get you to shut up for half a second,” Logan murmured against her skin. “You’re beautiful when you’re pissed off, do you know that?”

  “I’m beginning to think you piss me off on purpose.”

  Logan laughed as she took a step back and ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t even try to hide the fact she was breathing heavily, and she could see by the way Brooke’s chest was rising and falling she was having the same dilemma. She wanted Brooke, and she wasn’t interested in trying to hide the fact any longer.

  “You’re even more wound up than usual tonight,” Logan said. “Is everything okay?”

  “No, it isn’t. I found out this afternoon my father is a convicted rapist, and the reason you know nothing about him is my grandparents moved here a year into his ten-year stint in prison.”

  “I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did. Is there anything I can do to help?” Logan knew it sounded ridiculous, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  “Hold me?”

  The pain Logan saw in Brooke’s eyes nearly melted her insides. She opened her arms and Brooke’s body molded to hers perfectly.

  “Stay the night with me.” Logan knew the words came out wrong when Brooke pushed her away.

  “Does everything come back to sex for you?”

  “The offer has absolutely nothing to do with sex, I swear. I only wanted to offer a shoulder to cry on.”

  “I don’t want to sleep with you.”

  Logan looked at her, not quite sure she’d heard her correctly. What did it mean when right after she’d assured Brooke it wasn’t about sex, Brooke made a comment about sleeping with her? Perhaps everything came back to sex for Brooke.

  “I think you do.”

  “What?” Brooke laughed, and Logan cringed at the reaction.

  “Come on, the kiss, the way your body responds to me. I know you want to sleep with me,” Logan said. “I guess I just need to work a little harder at convincing you.”

  A car door slammed outside and they both froze, waiting to determine whether it was Jack returning home. They heard footsteps coming up the walkway, but then someone entered the house next door. Once everything was silent again, they turned back to each other.

  “Just for argument’s sake,” Brooke said, wondering how she’d managed to let this happen. Logan had a way of getting around her defenses like no one else had ever done. It seemed the madder she got, the more she was attracted to Logan. “If we did sleep together, what happens the next day?”

  “What?” Logan seemed genuinely perplexed. “What do you mean?”

  “If I slept with you, you’d probably never want to see me again, right? I’ve known women like you, Logan. I’m not cut out for casual. And I don’t want to get close to someone just to have them dump me for some other woman.”

  “Why can’t we just see where it goes? Who says it has to be casual? Or even long-term for that matter. We like each other, right?”

  Brooke wanted to tell her she was wrong. She wanted to tell Logan she didn’t like her at all, but she would be lying. Instead she said nothing. Logan apparently took her silence as a denial.

  “Okay, fine,” Logan said, her irritation showing in her stance. “Did you get Darcy’s phone number? Have fun with her, Brooke, because she’s the epitome of casual.”

  Brooke clenched her fists and took a deep breath. Of course Logan knew the bartender from the dive they were at earlier. Brooke hadn’t known Logan was there until well after she’d left. She’d wanted to see Logan earlier in the bar. It was the reason she’d even agreed to go with Jack in the first place. She’d desperately wanted to share with her the things she’d learned about her father. The fact Logan hadn’t even bothered to say hi to her made her angrier still.

  Yes, she had gotten Darcy’s number, but Brooke had no intention of ever calling her. Hell, she’d only sat there talking to Darcy for so long because she didn’t want to come across as being rude. It was Logan she’d wanted to see. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was pretty damn sure she was falling for Logan, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

  “Really? You don’t get what you want so you tear down someone else?”

  “You aren’t into casual, so I just wanted to warn you,” Logan said with a shrug. “I’m speaking from experience on this one.”

  “If you’re so concerned about it, why didn’t you talk to me at the bar? Why let her try and charm her way into my pants?”

  “Because I knew you’d shut her down just like you’re doing with me. And if not, well, that’s not my business.”

  “God, you are so infuriating.” Brooke took a step toward her. When Logan didn’t back away, Brooke caressed Logan’s cheek. Logan closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, causing Brooke’s pulse to spike. She was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. “And beautiful, and dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” Logan asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

  “Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you.” Brooke realized how utterly evasive and ridiculous it sounded because she did want to sleep with Logan, but she went on without missing a beat. “To me, sleeping with someone means more than a night of fun and mutual satisfaction. You think about that, Logan, and what it might mean for how you live your life. I’m not some woman you—or anyone else—can pick up in a bar. You can’t sleep with me and never see me again. I live next door to you. Let all of it sink in and then remember the things we’ve talked about. Neither one of us is looking for a relationship, remember?”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Logan woke the next day on the couch with a tequila headache. She silently cursed herself for allowing Brooke to affect her to the point of drinking too much. She vaguely recalled Jack coming home around two in the morning and giving her a hard time for drinking the shit. Now he was sitting in their father’s recliner facing her, a grin plastered on his face.

  “What?” she asked tersely.

  “Why can’t you just admit you have feelings for her?”

  “Who?”

  “We’re still playing that game?” Jack asked, rolling his eyes. He slapped her on the thigh on his way to the kitchen, which caused a burst of pain in the back of her head.

  “Fuck, Jack.” She pulled the blanket over her head and closed her eyes, willing the killer headache to disappear.

  “The woman in question is Brooke Collier.” Jack whipped the blanket off her a minute later and handed her a glass of tomato juice. “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”

  She eyed it—and him—with undisguised wariness before struggling into a sitting position. She sipped the tomato juice cautiously and was surprised to find it tasted good. She took a bigger drink and placed the empty glass on the coffee table. She gathered the blanket in her lap and turned her attention to him.

>   “What was it?”

  “Bloody Mary with only half the amount of alcohol,” he said with a grin. “Trust me, it got me through many a hangover in college. Now, back to the topic at hand. Why won’t you just admit you have feelings for her?”

  “Because I don’t.”

  “Bullshit. You were staring at her so hard in the bar last night I thought you were going to bore holes right through her head. What are you afraid of, Logan?”

  “I’m not afraid. Jesus, why can’t you just let it go?”

  “Because you’re my sister, and I want to see you happy.”

  “Trust me, Brooke Collier will not make me happy.” Logan stared at the ceiling. “Fuck, we can’t even spend more than an hour together before one of us is angrier than a hornet at the other one.”

  “That’s called chemistry, you dope.” Jack laughed, causing more pain to lance through her brain.

  “No, it’s called oil and water. It’s called two people who really can’t get along.”

  “Do you argue from the start, or do you argue when things start to get a little too personal?”

  “When they get personal.”

  “So you argue in order to keep things from getting intimate. You argue to hide your true feelings from each other. That’s chemistry, Logan. God, it’s so utterly ridiculous.”

  “Why are you so infuriating first thing in the morning?”

  “I figured if you didn’t want to be disturbed you’d have found your way upstairs instead of passing out on the couch. Besides, it’s almost noon.” He pulled on his jacket before walking to the front door. “I’ll leave you with the wisdom I’ve acquired over the past few years being a star football player and then I’ll never mention it again. Playing the field isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. I can’t wait until Cynthia and I are sharing the same house because I want to have someone to come home to at night. I want to have someone who cares enough to ask how my day was. I want to have someone to curl up with in front of the television, and someone to hold me while I sleep. No one wants to grow old alone, Logan, because then there’s absolutely nothing to look forward to.”

  She flopped down and pulled the blanket over her head again when he slammed the door on his way out. She never would have figured Jack to be a romantic. She grudgingly admitted it would be nice to have all the things Jack mentioned, but could it be possible with Brooke?

  Why not Brooke? It sure as hell wouldn’t be Gretchen, or any of the other women she’d had fun with over the years. She’d already admitted Brooke made her feel things other women hadn’t. If she didn’t care about her, then Brooke probably wouldn’t be able to get under her skin and there would be no reason to argue, right?

  “Shit,” Logan murmured as she turned onto her side. She cared deeply about Brooke. She felt more alive around Brooke than she had in what seemed like forever. Brooke was someone she could see herself with a few years down the road. The thought alone should have been sufficient to scare her, but for some reason it didn’t. And that scared her.

  *

  Logan had just sat on the couch with a beer, intent on watching television for the rest of the night when the doorbell rang.

  “Hi,” Brooke said as she tried to look around Logan into the house. “Jack asked me to come over for something.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. He just called, and he asked if I could come next door and help him with something.”

  “Jack isn’t here. He left this morning for work and I haven’t seen or heard from him since almost noon.” Logan tried to shut the door, but Brooke held a hand out to stop it.

  “Then why would he have asked me over?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Excuse me, I have a delivery for Logan Swift and Brooke Collier,” said a man walking up the front steps. He was carrying a brown paper bag, and he looked back and forth between the two of them. He looked at Brooke. “I know Logan, so you must be Brooke. Jack sent me with this food for you, and a message.” He read from a slip of paper in his hand. “Enjoy this meal together, and if you still can’t manage to get along, I’ll never do anything like this again.”

  Brooke looked at Logan, her mouth hanging open. Her first instinct was to believe this was Logan’s doing, but after a little more consideration, she didn’t think Logan had a romantic bone in her body. She decided to go with it. She hadn’t had dinner, and the sadness in her grandparent’s house was making it difficult to breathe. Logan, however, shook her head.

  “No, Andy, whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

  “It’s Chinese. Your favorite.” He waved the bag in front of her so she could smell it. “And I’m under strict orders not to leave until you both agree to share a meal together.”

  Apparently, Andy and Logan knew each other, but Brooke had never seen him before. She stood back and let them hash things out.

  “Take it away and tell my asinine brother his scheme didn’t work.” Logan tried to ignore the way her stomach growled in response to the aroma.

  “Pork fried rice, shrimp chow mein, General Tso’s chicken. You sure you want to turn your nose up at it, Logan? He paid for it. All you have to do is enjoy it.”

  Brooke watched while Logan tried to stare him down. After a moment she ripped the bag out of his hands and dismissed him before turning around and going back into the house.

  “Are you coming in for dinner or what, Brooke?”

  Brooke closed the door behind her. It wasn’t the most romantic invitation she’d ever had, but she’d take it. She didn’t stop to think about why the summons—romantic or not—thrilled her.

  “Who is Andy?” Brooke asked.

  “What?”

  “The delivery guy. Andy. I’ve never met him.”

  “He’s a friend of Jack’s,” Logan said without turning around. “They were friends in high school. And he isn’t a delivery guy. He’s a firefighter. I’m sure Jack paid him handsomely to do this though.”

  “How do I know you didn’t plan this?”

  “Seriously?” Logan turned to look at her. “This was not my idea. You constantly remind me nothing will ever happen between us. You reject me at every turn. Why would I want to waste my time doing something this elaborate?”

  “Maybe something like this would actually get my attention. But you know what? I never thought it was you anyway. You don’t strike me as the type to do anything romantic like this.”

  “Trust me, I can be romantic if there’s someone who inspires me to be.”

  Brooke felt the jab in her heart and began looking for the dishes. All this fighting was getting ridiculous. They just couldn’t seem to meet halfway. Or at least Brooke couldn’t believe in Logan enough to give it a try, no matter how badly she wanted to.

  “Plates are in the cupboard to the left of the sink.” Logan ripped the bag open and began placing the takeout cartons on the counter. Brooke handed her a plate and some spoons to dish the food out with. “I really hate that he knows how to get to me. Chinese food is my weakness. Good Chinese food anyway.”

  “So we’re being forced on a date?” Brooke asked. She took a step back when Logan whirled around to face her, a spoon full of fried rice pointed at her face.

  “Jack seems to think we like each other for some reason. And no one is forcing you to do anything. You’re welcome to leave, you know. It just means more food for me.” Logan turned back to finish loading up her plate as she talked. “If you’re staying, help yourself to food and beverage. Just don’t drink all the root beer. I’d hate to accidently give Shane a real beer.”

  Brooke stood there dumbfounded. She felt like an idiot for the way she’d reacted the night before. She looked at the food on the counter after Logan returned to the living room. She’d been close to making up her mind to leave, but since Logan seemed so indifferent as to whether she stayed or not, she began filling a plate up with food.

  “Jack’s an ass,” Logan said when they were done eating.

  “Bec
ause he bought us dinner?”

  “No, because he forced us into eating dinner together.”

  “Nobody forced me to stay here, Logan. I stayed because I wanted to.”

  “Yeah?” Logan seemed surprised. She shot Brooke a wary smile, and it warmed Brooke’s insides. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do enjoy your company.”

  Brooke blushed slightly and looked away as Logan gathered their dishes and headed back to the kitchen. Brooke was just allowing herself the luxury of wondering where the evening might take them when there was a loud crash in the kitchen.

  “Fuck!” Logan yelled.

  Brooke ran into the other room and found Logan on the floor, a hand to her forehead and blood seeping between her fingers. Brooke didn’t even think before dropping to her knees and pulling Logan’s hand away to get a better look at the wound.

  “Do you have a first aid kit?”

  “Upstairs bathroom.”

  Brooke grabbed a clean dish towel and had Logan hold it to her head before she helped Logan to stand and guided her up the stairs. She situated her on the toilet seat and began going through the medicine cabinet. There wasn’t much there, and Brooke was worried she was going to need stitches to close the gash. She needed to get it cleaned out first so she could assess the damage more accurately. She prepared a clean washcloth with soap and warm water before turning to Logan.

  “This is probably going to hurt a little. I’m sorry, but I need to clean it out before I can dress it. How did this happen?”

  Her question had the desired effect, and Logan pulled the towel away when Brooke gripped her wrist lightly. The idea was to get Logan talking about how she injured herself so she wouldn’t react as strongly when the washcloth made contact with the open wound. She dabbed the cloth around the wound but didn’t come close to it yet as Logan began to talk.

  “My fucking brother left his size fourteen clown shoes under the table. I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going and I tripped over them. Fuck!” Logan winced and jerked her head away as Brooke finally touched the washcloth to the wound. “Damn it! Do you even know what the hell you’re doing?”