He used the blanket to dry off the seats then he dumped the water from the helmets, kicking himself for not stowing them in the saddlebags. He passed her a helmet, muttering an apology that it was wet, but he let her put it on herself. He fired up the engine and, when she was settled behind him, took off.
The bike ate up the pavement, kicking up standing water all over both of them. He didn’t even notice and if she did she didn’t say anything. She was touching him just enough to hold her seat and she hadn’t helmet-butted him once since they’d left the rest area.
Of all things he expected her to say, that she admired him, that she thought he was brave, were not it. It wasn’t as if he’d spent his life, every day since that night, thinking about it, but it had played a part in shaping who he’d become. And, yeah, she was right, he had decided who she was based on that one night. Not by getting to know her, by talking to her, but he’d served as judge and jury and convicted her of being wealthy, arrogant upper-crust. Just as he’d pegged himself as poor, unworthy, trash.
Either way it was unfair. To her. And to him.
He decided right then to let her have her event. He admired her. She believed in what she was doing and she believed in her Nana. And, why shouldn’t she. Who was he to take that away from her?
He pulled into the driveway and around to the garage. He killed the engine, removed his helmet, and got off the bike. She started to follow and he put out a hand to help her even though she could negotiate getting off without his help.
He waited while she decided whether or not to accept it. He held his breath. At last, she extended her hand.
He didn’t apologize often and he didn’t do it well, especially when it really counted. But, he knew how to make her feel good. And that was a gift he could give to her now, while she was here with him. Before he let her go and before she could leave him.
He cleared his throat and said, “Come inside a minute.”
She looked like she wanted to refuse. She looked hurt and angry and soaked through.
He turned away, swallowed, then without turning back, asked, “Please?”
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
And he exhaled.
He led the way inside, through the back door, the narrow mudroom, where he toed of his boots. She started to bend to remove her shoes, but he gently moved her hands away and knelt before her. Patiently he undid her wet laces, then clasped first one calf then the other, removing her wet shoes.
Next, he grasped her hands. Her fingers were icy and he gathered them between both of his. He brought them up to his mouth and huffed his warm breath over them. Then he led her through the front room and down a short hallway to the bathroom. He gently sat her on the commode, after putting down the lid, and turned to close the door. He flipped the light on as the day had given way to dusk and the room was gray. The lights bathed both of them in light and slight warmth; although he could tell she was moments away from shivering. He reached past her and turned on the shower, flipping it all the way to hot, letting the steam fill the room.
Then he stripped out of his clothes, dropping them in a pile by the door. He turned and stood naked, open, vulnerable before her. And waited. Hopeful she wouldn’t turn away.
She didn’t. She looked at him with big, warm eyes. The same eyes that had sought him out that next day at school, all those years ago.
He helped her to stand then he lifted her shirt up and over her chest. She helped by raising her arms until the cold, wet material was off entirely. Then he walked his fingers around to the back of her bra where he tried to unfasten the material. Unsuccessfully. Then he clasped her shoulders and turned her slowly around so her back was to him. He leaned his head down, tentatively, and placed a soft, open mouth kiss on her delicate shoulder. She shivered, from the wet clothes, the cold, or the kiss, he didn’t know.
He went to work on the bra and it came off next. He turned her back around and placed a kiss on her collar bone, the gentle V of her neck, her other collar bone. The palms of his hands brushed slowly, gently over her peeking nipples. Then he went to work on her sodden jeans. He worked the button open and the zipper down, and together he helped her shimmy the wet, unyielding material over her goose-bumped hips and legs.
Rachel drew in a sharp breath as she stood there, in the artificial bathroom light, completely naked.
He reached into the shower to check the water and then gestured for her to climb in.
She cried out as the water washed over her chilled skin. He almost did the same. Logan reached for the bar of soap. He lathered up his hands and placed them on her shoulders.
Logan used his big, soapy hands to knead out the tension she wore in her shoulders and back, squeezing, massaging away her aches and knots. Some of which—maybe most of which—he was responsible for. He held just enough pressure to release the knots, using the soap to glide over her spine, her shoulder blades, down to her lower back, then back up.
His hands dipped lower, skimming her bottom, then back up and, again, down, down, each time down a little farther. Her breathing was picking up, her mouth parting, drawing in the humid air, warming her from the inside out. Her head tilted to the side and he wrapped an arm around her to support her.
“Turn around,” he directed, his voice rough.
She slowly turned to face him. He placed his soapy hands on her beautiful breasts and almost lost it. But he wouldn’t do that. No. This was for Rachel. For all the things he’d done, not done, thought, not thought, said, not said.
He slid his hands all over, up, down, up, then over her nipples, tracing. Back, forth and back again, over and around, gently pinching her nipples, cleansing them thoroughly. Her eyes were closed but they opened when he began to soap her stomach and then lower.
“Rachel. Look at me.”
She lifted heavy lids and settled her gaze on his. He stared at her, intense and hot. Then he brought his mouth to hers. He devoured her, feasting hungrily and she gave it back to him, her tongue sampling his, dancing, playing. All the while, he worked his finger down to her abdomen to her sweet center, parting her, testing. Then he pressed, applying just enough pressure. She was slick and ready; his sensual massage had insured that.
God she was beautiful. His body readied for her, wanted her. And he realized he needed her badly, more than he’d ever needed a woman before in his life.
He reached a hand out of the shower and returned with a foil package. He ripped it open and put the condom on. Then he turned, his back to the showerhead, and walked Rachel backward until the cool shower tiles touched her back. Then he lifted her up. She gasped, but the sound disappeared in the steamy shower. He held her in the safety of his arms, slowly sliding her down onto his erection. She wrapped her legs around his hips and took him all the way. Her arms tightened around his neck, her breasts pressed against his hard chest. Her mouth came down on his shoulder, her teeth biting his skin. And then he began to move her, his hands on her hips, pushing her up, down, up, then slowly back down.
Her head fell back against the tile and she screamed.
The orgasm shot through her hot and electric, lightning coursing through her, a building thunder cloud shooting white hot electricity to the ground. He’d never felt so alive.
Logan held her until the trembling subsided then he began to work her body again, small movements, up, then back down, slowly building again. The fiery heat wrapped and twisted and grew until she was on the brink again. His mouth came down hard on hers as his orgasm took him and she screamed again, but this time, his mouth took it all.
Chapter 22
Rachel had everything planned to the tee. There was nothing left to do but wait. Tomorrow the gymnasium would fill with people from all over Redemption and several counties over, all there to honor Gloria Rose Delaney-Tolbert.
And Rachel couldn’t be sadder.
She hadn’t heard from Logan since the day of their motorcycle ride. She’d left his house late and driven all the way to Denver so she c
ould be to work the following morning. That was two weeks ago.
Two weeks during which she’d been completely unhindered in the final planning.
She’d met with Lila Pitts for a final tasting of the menu, and, she had to admit, Lila had outdone herself. She’d met with Alexander and he’d truly outdone himself. The flowers he’d chosen were magical and absolutely perfect. Then she’d met with the party supply store and okay’d the linens, tables chairs and even the stage. She’d seen a sample of the favors—elegant; tasted the cake—delicious; and met with the band. It was all going to be perfect.
But, in her heart, it wasn’t right.
Nana would have loved it. There was no doubt about that. But, something was missing.
Logan.
He’d been with her, well against her, every step of the way. Right up until the end. And, now that the big day was before them, she missed him and she wanted him here, with her, by her side.
This was new territory for her. She’d been an independent woman for so long, the idea that she wanted to share something as important as this event with someone was foreign to her. But, here she was, standing in the empty gym, where in less than twenty four hours hundreds of guests would gather, and all she could think about was Logan.
His revelation about that night at the gas station had been a big one. Sure, she remembered that night, but not in the condemning way he did. That had been one in a long chain of events that had shaped him, molded him in to who he was and what did that say about her? She’d left that night wanting to fix him, make it better. Maybe that evening had been more formative for her than she thought. Maybe it had played a part in her wanting to be a pediatrician. She’d always wanted to be a doctor, but maybe that night had been the catalyst that had pushed her to desire caring for children and teens. The look in his eyes, the combination of pride and bravery and utter vulnerability had hit a nerve with her. It’d been then that the idea had grown that she’d wanted to be an advocate for kids, for the ones that needed one. She wanted to support them, to help them, nurture and care for them.
She had Logan and Mean Gene to thank for that, just as much as she had Nana to thank.
It’s never one person that shapes a person. It’s so many things. And, now, she realized, for her, it had been Logan, all those years ago.
Logan who now held a part of her. She didn’t know exactly when she’d entrusted him with her heart, only that somewhere along the way she had.
And she wanted him here, with her, tonight before the event, tomorrow at the event and after. Whatever after looked like.
The clinic hadn’t been happy she’d been doing so much commuting. Not that it had been anyone’s business but hers. Still it hadn’t stopped her supervisor from mentioning it to her. They’d seen the lines of fatigue and of course noticed the Friday’s she’d left a little early and the Monday’s she’d arrived a little late, bleary-eyed.
Going into this event, she never would have thought she’d relish the time she spent in Redemption. Sure it’d been her home, but that was with Nana. With Nana gone, she no longer saw it that way.
Until now. And, honestly, for the past few weeks.
She’d enjoyed driving down Main and waving to people who knew her and were happy to see her: Lila, Alexander, Trisha, Charlie, Molly.
And, most of all, she’d wanted to see Logan again.
She’d missed him these past few weeks. More than she’d missed anybody. Even after she’d broken it off with Travis, she hadn’t hurt like this. It was as if part of her was left behind and she knew where to look but couldn’t get there.
They say home is where the heart is. If that was true, then her home was in Redemption and somewhere on that country road in an old abandoned barn, because that’s where she’d last opened up her heart.
Chapter 23
Rachel stood on the precipice of the gym entrance, wearing her black dress, which miraculously fit. Amazing what a little heartbreak could do for a figure.
Rachel searched for Logan, hoping he’d be here, but knowing he wouldn’t.
She swallowed the emotion gathering in her throat. She was going to be all smiles and broad appreciation tonight: for all the people that helped to make this event a success and to all the people in attendance here to honor Gloria Rose.
Rachel shook her head, clearing the images of the one person who’d both hindered and, ultimately, made this event possible. The curls she’d carefully made in her hair moved over her shoulders and along her face. Molly had insisted that she wear her hair down and Rachel had agreed, although she hadn’t much cared either way. The one person that mattered wasn’t likely to be there, to notice. It’d no doubt get in the way, but she wasn’t going to argue with Molly, particularly when it came to fashion.
“Congratulations, Rachel. Your grandmother would be proud.”
Rachel turned at the voice of the town council president. “Thank you. I think so, too.” He introduced her to his wife and then they proceeded into the gym, along with several other couples just arriving.
Drawing in a deep breath and giving herself a mental pep talk, Rachel followed the crowd into the gym.
The room took her breath away. It sparkled, literally glowed. The decorators had hung long chandeliers with candles and draping flowers from the ceiling. The lights were lowered so that the candles twinkled as did the thousands of white tea lights scattered around the room. Alexander’s floral arrangements were magnificent, the perfect blend of color and white, greenery and jewels to make them pop and glitter.
The band had set up at one end of the gym and was playing instrumentals as people filed in and found their place cards. And, just in front of the band was the stage, set up like a runway.
“It’s gorgeous, Rach!” Molly said from behind her, swinging an arm around her bare shoulders.
Rachel leaned into her friend. “Yes. It really turned out.” Almost perfect, but not quite.
“Hey, friend.” Molly steered Rachel away from the crowd. “What is it? No, wait.” Molly looked past Rachel’s shoulder, going up on tiptoes to peer around. Then she turned back to Rachel, frowning. “Not what, whom? Am I right?”
Rachel shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
Molly studied her friend and nodded. “I know you are faking ‘fine’, but in that dress, girl, you look a-maz-ing.”
Rachel laughed and cast a downward glance at herself. “Yeah, I have this a-maz-ing friend who knows clothes.”
Molly winked. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be famous physicians.”
Rachel looped her arms around her best friend and squeezed. “Thanks, Molly. Love you.”
Molly slipped away and waved a hand in front of her face. “Hey, now. No tears. I didn’t do waterproof tonight. Should have. But didn’t. No tears.” She shook a friendly finger at Rachel.
Rachel nodded, smiling. “No tears.” Although that was going to be really hard when she got up on stage to say a few words and thank everyone for coming.
Molly left her to find her seat. Rachel watched her slip through the crowd. She spotted Trisha and Charlie. Kelly was with them and she had her arm looped through the arm of a tall man Rachel didn’t know. Rachel smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Wing and waved to Heather and her husband. She saw Lila talking to some of her staff; they’d be serving guests as soon as everyone was seated. And, she saw Alexander leaning into a very handsome man who was laughing at something Alexander had just said.
Behind them, Rachel saw Sasha and Kiki, Megs and Tilly arrive. They had on their coats and heels. They moved to the doors leading to the locker room. Sasha saw Rachel and gave her a big wave. Rachel smiled and waved back. Logan was going to miss their performance.
A waiter passed with a tray of drinks and Rachel reached for one. A little liquid courage. Alexander made his way through the crowd to her.
“Ms. Rachel, you have outdone yourself.”
Rachel smiled. “I was going to say the same thing to you!”
“I want you to
meet my friend, Michael Conners. Michael, this is Rachel Delaney-Tolbert.”
Rachel extended her hand, which Michael ignored. He leaned in and kissed her cheek instead. Rachel welcomed the embrace. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Michael looked around, people were taking their seats. “It’s about time.”
Rachel’s stomach swooped, but she nodded. “I think you are right. Okay, here I go.”
Alexander leaned in and kissed her cheek. Then he said into her ear, “You are a magnificent woman. Give him time. He’s too smart to let you go.”
Then he disappeared through the crowd with Michael leading the way.
Rachel swallowed her champagne and set it on a table as she made her way to the stage.
The band finished the song and let the silence announce Rachel. She made her way to the center of the stage and accepted the microphone the bandleader handed her. Then she turned toward the seated guests.
It felt like thousands of eyes were on her, but all she could picture was her Nana. She felt her presence and she smiled, even as the tears threatened. She took a deep fortifying breath and began.
“Hello.” She thanked everyone for coming, for turning out to show their respect and love for the woman who’d held this town so dear. She thanked the town council for allowing her to realize this dream. Then she thanked all of the vendors who’d made the event possible. Lastly, she thanked Logan. “He wasn’t able to be here tonight.” She paused. “I’m sure he’s strategizing next week’s game plan.” The guests all chuckled. “But, without him, tonight, this event wouldn’t be.” Then she issued a last thank you. The crowd applauded and some people even stood.
Logan stood outside the gym and listened to Rachel’s speech. He was so damned proud of her. She was a force to be reckoned with. She’d had a goal and she hadn’t let anything get in her way. Despite everything he’d pushed in front of her, she’d made the best of it and come out on top. Then she’d gone and publicly thanked him and he felt like an ass. His damn pride had kept him away—from her, from this event.
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