“No, damn it. You can breathe. But, God woman, do you have to do it like . . . like, you just had the best orgasm of your life?”
Rachel gaped at him.
Had she heard him right? “I’m sorry?”
“You heard me. You do this little thing when you take a deep breath. You sort of tip your head back, then you close your eyes, and then you, you . . . you breathe. And, it’s . . . distracting! Everything about you is freakin’ distracting!”
She wasn’t sure she was hearing him right. She’d never been a distraction to anyone. She’d been Rachel Delaney-Tolbert. Gloria Delaney-Tolbert’s granddaughter. A good girl. A good student. Conservative. Kind. Boring, really. But, the way she took a deep breath was . . . distracting? It reminded him of, of . . . sex?
She wasn’t entirely sure how to take that, except, he was still entirely too close, the knowledge of what it felt like to be held by him entirely to fresh and his breath . . . on her neck . . . was . . . distracting.
Then she was leaning into him . . .
“Ah, the hell with it.” Logan snaked out both arms, clasped her shoulders and hauled her to him, molding his too-perfect-for-a-man lips to hers. And, she sighed. Probably the same post-orgasmic sigh he was giving her grief for, but she didn’t care.
All she could think of was hot, firm lips fitted over hers, moist, tender and oh so kissable. His tongue licked lightly at the seam of her lips then he nibbled there and she sighed again.
“Woman . . . ” he whispered. “Open your mouth.”
“You’re,” she opened, and he entered and she was lost, but not too lost to say, “bossy.”
He captured her upper lip, sucking and stroking with his lips and tongue and she forgot her name, until he said, “So . . . ” more kissing, more tongue. “ . . . are . . .” another soul touching lick, lips tangling. “. . . you.”
She was too light headed and lost to respond. His hand left her shoulder to cup the back of her head and knead the sensitive skin there. She gasped and turned her head, only to have him dance a line of kisses from her lips to her ear. His other hand moved from her shoulder to her hip, then those tricky fingers walked up her stomach, unzipped her hoody and palmed the space just below her breast.
“Logan . . .”
“Yeah . . .”
She tore away. “What is that?”
“Huh? What?”
And, then he heard it too. Buzzing. Loud, cell phone—not hers—buzzing.
“Shit!” he muttered, glancing at the caller ID. “Hey, Charlie.” Then he flipped his wrist and read his clock. “Double shit! I’m on my way. Be there in 5.”
Rachel just watched and tingled and felt hot all over. Logan kissed like she’d dreamed he kissed, only better. Because it wasn’t a dream. And, she’d almost let him get to second base. Although, these days, second base could be way more than what they’d just done. But, whatever. If his phone hadn’t rang . . .
“I’m late for football practice. I’ve never been late for football practice.” He pressed a hard kiss to her mouth and said, “This isn’t finished.”
Chapter 13
For the first time in forever, not only was Logan late to a football practice, but, as he drove to practice, his mind wasn’t ticking off plays, mentally scrimmaging the opponent. Instead, he was mentally undressing Rachel and kissing her senseless.
In his mental rendition, his phone did not ring, he did not get interrupted and he made it all the way to orgasm—hers and his. Damn, but that would be sweet.
He drove quickly, parked, and raced to the field where Charlie and his other coaches were leading the kids in warm-up. Even Tom was there, flipping through the playbook. Logan snuck in behind the kids, trying to be inconspicuous. Here he was, their coach, a role model for responsibility, dedication, and accountability, sneaking into practice. He should drop and make himself give fifty.
He sidled up next to Charlie.
“Nice of you to make it, Hastings.”
“Got tied up.” Now that was something he’d like to explore with Rachel.
Charlie cast him a sideways glance and said, “Uh-huh.”
Logan ignored him and blew his whistle, taking over the practice. He rattled off a few announcements then signaled for the offense and defense to break apart. Cole hung back, holding his helmet.
“Everything okay?” Logan asked.
Cole scuffed the ground and didn’t quite meet his eye.
“Cole?”
Cole looked up, his teeth visible as he chewed his lower lip. At last he spoke. “It’s about the dinner for Ms. Delaney-Tolbert.
Logan’s jaw dropped. That was about the last thing he expected Cole to say. Damn it. He knew the event would impact his team. It obviously was somehow troubling Cole.
“Yeah. What about it?”
“Well, and I want you to know I wouldn’t ask except my grandma and Gloria D-T were, like best friends, and so, of course my family is going to the dinner, and, since, well, the D-T’s meant a lot to my grandma and I guess my mom, well, my mom wanted me to ask you if it was okay if some of us helped set up for the event.” Logan’s opinion on that must have been evident on his face because Cole continued.
“It won’t interfere, Coach. I promise.”
“How is that possible, Cole? I need you focused on the game before the game starts, not putting together tables and folding chairs.”
“We’ll do it really early. We won’t be late for pre-game. I swear.”
Cole seemed so earnest that Logan didn’t have a retort. Plus that part of game day belonged to his players, not him. Although he hoped they used it to relax and focus, it wasn’t up to him to legislate it. If a group of players wanted to roll out linens and tables and chairs, he really couldn’t say anything. Even though he really wanted to. Logan sighed, but nodded. “Sure, Cole. Just make sure you’re ready to compete.”
“Yes, sir,” Cole said and smiled for the first time.
Logan watched his player pull on his helmet and race over to where the O-line was lining up. Logan wanted to pin this latest frustration on Rachel, but he couldn’t quite get his head around it. Rachel hadn’t put Cole’s mom up to the request. Sounded like it’d come directly from Cole and his family. Rachel was affecting the whole town with this event nonsense.
Logan reached down and palmed a football, squeezing it tightly. Thoughts of a certain hot, ridiculously sexy, pediatrician danced in his mind. He drew back and released the ball to a receiver nearing the end zone.
Though she was driving him crazy with the event, damn if he didn’t enjoy every single image that flitted through his mind.
Chapter 14
Rachel crossed Main Street. She needed some advice.
Logan had just kissed her silly and, heaven help her, but she’d kissed him back and enjoyed every moment of it.
One minute he was reading her the riot act and the next he was turning her inside out with his deliciously persuasive mouth. How could she make sure Nana’s event happened . . . without Logan-the-Saboteur/Best-Kisser-EVER distracting her silly?
It had been a while since she’d been kissed like that.
Not since her last boyfriend. And, that relationship had been a disaster. Nor was she interested in casual sex. That wasn’t who she was. And since she had no plans to get serious with a guy—any guy—for a very long time, this little thing with Logan wouldn’t—couldn’t—go anywhere.
What if he was just kissing her to distract her from her plans?
Her head came up, like a light bulb coming on. That was exactly what he was doing. Well, not so fast, buster! She wouldn’t be cowed that easily.
Of course, said the little hussy in her, you did let him kiss you . . . and you enjoyed it.
Oh hush, she said right back.
She pulled open the door to Fancy Pants and was greeted by both Molly and “Beethoven’s 5 playing loudly from above the door.
“Hey,” Molly said over the classical music announcing her arrival. “How’s the
planning for the event of the century going?”
“Don’t ask.”
Molly frowned. “Uh-oh.”
Rachel slumped into the plush couch Molly had positioned in the center of the store.
Rachel laughed. At first just a bubble of laughter erupted, then another. Soon she was doubled over holding her stomach, huge ripples of laughter rocking her body.
“Rach?” Molly asked, a note of concern in her voice. “You okay, sweetie?”
Rachel wiped at tears on her cheeks and nodded, but she couldn’t speak. Oh no, this was too rich. It was going to be an internationally themed disaster.
And Logan had kissed her. She’d kissed him, and let him cop a feel. She’d liked when he’d copped a feel and, darn it all, hated when he’d stopped. No good could come from this.
Rachel gave in to another fit of laughter then caught her breath. “I kissed Logan.”
“What?”
“Well, he kissed me, but not before he ordered a vodka luge for the event.”
“Say what?”
Rachel smoothed a hand down her braid then tucked the hairs that had escaped behind her ears.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.” Or she would be when this was all over. T-minus twenty days and counting. “Really. It’s just . . . you’re coming to this thing, right?”
“Of course. Isn’t everyone?”
“You might consider eating first.”
Molly laughed. “I don’t think you can get away without feeding people.”
“Oh we’re going to have food. It’s just going to be very . . . eclectic.”
Molly raised her brow and nodded slowly. “Okay . . . sounds interesting.”
Oh yes, it would definitely be that. Maybe even a little scary. Too bad the event wasn’t closer to Halloween. Then it all would make perfect sense. They could call it “Rachel’s Nightmare.”
“Hey, do you want to go to the football game tomorrow night?”
As a good Redemption-born native, it shouldn’t even have been a question. Just a statement. Nobody missed a high school football game. But, right then, Rachel needed to put some space between her and the coach. Even if he would be on the sidelines and her far up in the bleachers. Didn’t matter. Rachel desperately needed some time away from good ‘ol Coach Hastings.
“No, thanks. I’ve got too much to do.”
Molly pressed her lips together and nodded. “How about something Saturday afternoon? There’s a BBQ. Want to go?”
“Uh . . .”
“Oh come on. What other plans do you have?”
Rachel gaped at her.
“You can take a break from planning the dinner, to take some time for yourself. Come on. Please?”
Could she promise that Logan wouldn’t be there? Okay, she was being childish. The town was big enough for the two of them. And a BBQ sounded like fun, especially if she got to hang out with her friend.
“Sure. What time?”
Logan pulled up in front of Charlie’s house, killed the engine, and climbed out of the truck. Logan inhaled deeply. He could see the smoke from the BBQ grill swirl up and over the rooftop.
Logan wandered through the side gate. Matthew was playing in his sandbox, but his head popped up when he heard the gate close. A huge smile stole over his face. “Unca Logan. You come to see me?” The three-year-old bounded over to Logan and threw his arms up in the air. Logan dropped to a squat and snatched up his “nephew”, hugging him tight.
“I did come to see you. And your daddy and mommy, too.” Logan glanced over at the BBQ and nodded a hello to his assistant coach and friend. He returned his attention to Matthew. “How’re ya doin’, Sport?”
“I not a ‘sport’. I’n Matthew.”
Logan smiled. “What are you doing back here?”
“I just playin’ in my sandbaox. ‘N diggin’ with my shovel. ‘N that’s all. Did you play football today?”
“Nope. It’s Saturday. No football today. But, we won last night.”
Mattie narrowed his little eyes and said, “I know that, Unca Logan. I was there. ’member?”
Logan palmed the little guy’s nape and said, “I did see you! I heard you, too. You cheer the loudest of anybody that comes.”
Matthew drew back and nodded proudly. Then he pushed away until Logan sat him down. Matthew went back to his sandbox.
Logan stared at the little guy, without a care, save for how high he could stack that sand. Very different from his childhood. Logan turned and strode over to the grill where Charlie was seasoning steaks. “Thanks,” Logan said as Charlie passed him a bottle of Coke.
Charlie turned from the grill to Matthew and back to Logan. “Nice game last night, Coach.”
Logan twisted off the top and clinked bottles with Charlie. “You, too, Coach.” They’d won big last night. The kids left the field on a high and the coaches, too. All except for him. One win didn’t make a season. There was still plenty more football to be played.
Charlie’s wife, Trisha, came down the back steps followed by her sister, Kelly.
“Hey, Logan!” Trisha walked over to Logan’s side. He leaned down to give Charlie’s wife a hug. “You look stressed.” She scrutinized him. “They played great last night!”
They did. But that wasn’t all that was on his mind. No it wasn’t the game. It was a tall, curvy blonde. If she’d been at the game, he hadn’t seen her, not that he’d admit to searching.
“Hi, Logan.” Kelly said, sliding up to his side.
Logan took a swallow of soda. He looked down at Kelly. Her clothes were tight and low cut. Her lips were red and glossy and her hair hung loose around her face. They’d dated a few times, a few more than he’d needed to know it wasn’t going anywhere, a few less than Kelly wanted. When he’d been in the NFL Kelly would have been the exact girl he would have gone for. If for no reason other than she was definitely the type that would have been hanging around the clubs and after games and at practices. She was nice enough, petite like her sister, and had a pretty face under the makeup. But she wasn’t tall, or curvy. And didn’t challenge the hell out of him.
“Hi, Kelly.” He squinted through the smoke from the BBQ.
“Don’t listen to Trisha, I think you’re . . . just fine.” She settled her palm on his chest.
Logan eyed Kelly and knew what she was offering and another time he might have taken her up on it, but now . . .?
Logan’s head came up at the sound of the back gate opening and closing. His attention landed on the curvy blonde he’d kissed silly.
“Molly! You made it and, oh my gosh, hello, Rachel!” Trisha raced over and threw her arms around each of them. He watched Molly then Rachel accept Trisha’s hug, warmly, affectionately, as if they’d been friends forever.
“Come on back. Say hi to everyone. I invited the other coaches and their wives. But they’re not here yet.” Trisha led the two women over to the grill and took the dishes they’d brought, setting them on the picnic table.
“Molly, you know Kelly. Rachel, you remember my sister, Kelly.” Kelly’s hand, which previously had been on Logan’s chest settled higher on his shoulder and she closed the space between them so that her body was up close to his.
“Hi,” Kelly said, extending her free hand, but not moving away from Logan.
“And, of course, everyone knows Logan.”
“Hello,” Rachel said. She didn’t quite meet his gaze. He’d seen the exact moment she’d spotted him. She hadn’t been exactly happy to see him and her expression had grown increasingly chilly as she surveyed the scene Kelly was painting. She’d narrowed her eyes a little and she’d swallowed, her tell that would make her a terrible poker player. But she’d recovered quickly enough that if he hadn’t been watching her steadily he would have missed it.
Trisha rattled on, but Logan wasn’t listening.
“Anyways,” Trisha continued, oblivious to the non-verbal communication happening above her head, “what can I get everyone to drink?”
“I c
an help myself,” Rachel said politely. “Just point me in the direction.” And she turned away from Logan, a little too willingly, if you asked him, and followed Trisha to the cooler.
Molly followed them, leaving Logan alone with Kelly.
“Kell,” he said, extricating himself from her and putting more than a little space between them. “What are you doing?”
She smiled seductively. “What do you mean?”
He tilted his head and gave a small smile. Kelly really was pretty and nice enough. She just wasn’t for him.
Kelly smiled ruefully, casting an eye to Rachel then back to Logan. “Sorry.” She sighed, shrugging. “You’re a catch, couldn’t help myself.” She tucked her hands in her front pockets and rocked back on her heels. “Can’t fault a girl for trying. You know how to reach me, if you change your mind.” Then she moved over to the sandbox where Matthew was filling a plastic pale with a miniature shovel.
Logan wasn’t sure about being a catch. He felt more like a rat. He needed to talk to Rachel. He’d left more than one thing undone in her motel room.
Rachel sensed the exact moment Logan left Trisha’s sister. She could feel him seeking her out. For what reason she could only imagine. The man had many talents. Not only was he a party saboteur but he apparently had no problem kissing one girl when he was obviously with another. What a skunk! Her original opinion of him was completely and totally reinforced. The realization didn’t make her feel any better though. She frowned into her bottle of beer. Trisha and Molly were chatting on about Molly’s latest shipment, something about receiving a whole line of petite-sized clothes. Rachel thought of herself. There wasn’t anything petite about her. Nope, she was tall and full-figured. She’d never been petite. Not like Trisha, or Kelly. She’d always been taller than the other girls, bigger than them. And, she’d hated it.
Thanks to the make-out session with Logan and then seeing him wrapped around Kelly, or her wrapped around him, whatever, those old feelings of not fitting in were re-surfacing.
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