by Nicole Hart
“You look amazing,” Braxton whispered as we both stared at my reflection in her bedroom mirror.
“Yeah?” I really was trying not to get down on myself tonight. I concentrated on the oversized luscious green sweater that hung past my thighs, paired with Braxton’s new black leggings. She lived for those soft leggings, and I was grateful she offered the outfit. It was comfortable and cute. Not to mention, it did a pretty good job of hiding my boney physique.
My auburn hair draped over the sweater, the shine a nice contrast to the deep green. It was almost the same color as Logan’s eyes, although no clothing color palette could do justice to that hue. They were out of this world.
I left the makeup application to Braxton—it wasn’t my thing. Her constant comments about contouring and blending were Greek to me, so I remained silent and let her work her magic. And as hard as it was to give myself a compliment, I looked…pretty. She had somehow managed to conceal the bags under my eyes and gave my complexion a glow I wasn’t familiar with.
“Oh, yeah…this new guy is going to fall head over heels for you, Jess.” Her gushing was exaggerated, and I couldn’t agree with her words. No one had ever fallen head over heels for me, and Logan seemed too good to be true, so I did my best not to get my hopes up.
“It’s just a first date,” I reminded her, and myself. I couldn’t let myself wish this was more than it was, or might be. I didn’t want to get shut down and have my heart broken before it had any right to. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something about him that made my heart soar and my cheeks blush.
“I have a feeling about this one, and you know I’m always right.” Oh yes, my roomie also considered herself a bit of a psychic. There was never a dull moment when Braxton was around.
“So is Josh coming over tonight, or are you going to his place?” I asked, hoping to change the subject from her fortunetelling.
“He’ll be here later, we’re probably just going to watch a movie or something—we’re boring now. He is anyway,” she grumbled as she threw herself onto her bed dramatically.
“He loves you, Brax. Sometimes boring is good.” I sat down on her bed and zipped up the black booties I had also borrowed.
“I guess. He just works all the time, so I miss going out with him. I miss having sex in random places. It’s all missionary positions and rom-coms now. Ugh.” Her complaining seemed silly—she didn’t realize how good she had it. She had a man who would do anything for her, he spoiled her rotten, and he only wanted her. That sounded pretty damn good in my opinion.
There was a knock at the door, followed by my stomach dropping to my knees. The sudden urge to vomit was overwhelming. I’d never been excited with nervous anticipation by a man before. The need to throw up was becoming a positive feeling I wanted to embrace when it was attached to Logan’s name.
“Oh my God,” I whispered as Braxton launched herself to her feet and gave me a once over before stepping aside and nudging me out of her bedroom.
“Just enjoy a night out, Jess. Have fun. Let loose. And for God’s sake, don’t get all mopey.” Her demands didn’t stop while she shuffled me closer to the front door before making her way into our tiny kitchen. The entrance to our apartment was still in her line of sight, and I could feel her staring between me and the door, back and forth.
“Answer it,” she hissed in the lowest whisper she could manage and still be heard.
I took a deep breath and released it. My stomach did flips and my hands got shaky.
“This is ridiculous. Just calm down,” I whispered to myself as I placed my hand on the knob. My heart was racing out of control and my chest was heaving. It was impossible to get a grip on the way my body was reacting.
I opened the door and tried to absorb the beautiful sight in front of me. My breath was ripped from my lungs when I tried to take him in. Sex on a stick. There was no other way to describe it. His black button-up shirt clung to his muscular arms, and his chest seemed as if it were desperate to break free. My eyes ran up to his neck, a deep vein bulged from its side, and my urge to lick it completely took over my body. His chiseled jaw, with just a hint of scruff covering it, gave a tiny flinch. Those postcards eyes. They were beautiful, although they looked a little different. They seemed a little glassy and bloodshot. Not so much to distract me from their perfect color, but it was there. If I weren’t obsessed with his eyes, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed.
“You look beautiful.” His deep voice ran through me, sending a shiver up my spine with his tone and his words.
God. He would be the death of me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, much quieter than I intended.
“These are for you.” He lifted a bouquet of flowers he had down at his side. I was so enamored with him I hadn’t even noticed them in his hand. My chest tightened as my eyes focused on the colorful arrangement. No one had ever bought me flowers before.
“Oh, wow.” I couldn’t hide my surprise and excitement. “Come in, come in. I’ll put these in water. They’re beautiful, Logan.” I beamed as I brought them to my nose and inhaled the sweet smell of pink roses mixed with lilies.
Logan walked through the doorway, and his massive frame made it seem small. I tried to take my eyes off of him, I really did, as I made my way to the kitchen. But he was like a magnet—I was just drawn to him. I stared until I was forced to walk around the bar.
“Wow,” Braxton mouthed to me.
“I know,” I replied quietly.
“I’ll do this. Go.” She took the flowers out of my hand and gave me a gentle shove.
“Um, Logan, this is my roommate, Braxton.”
“Nice to meet you!” Braxton beamed and waved frantically to him. I couldn’t help but giggle at her excitement.
“Nice to meet you,” he repeated her words and brushed his hand along the small of my back. “Ready?”
“I am.” I smiled, staring up at him, watching his vein bulge and flinch with his fingertips pressed into my spine, gentle yet firm.
“You two have fun!” Braxton yelled from the kitchen over the running sink water.
“You really look amazing,” Logan said as we stepped out into the calm night air.
“Thank you. You’re so sweet.” I touched his forearm and gave it a tight squeeze.
“There’s a great place not far from here, Stefano’s, have you been there?” He casually took my hand and gave it a squeeze. The gestures that might be small to some people were huge for me, and they set the butterflies thrashing around in my stomach. I’d never had anyone, much less a man, take the time to show me care.
“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.” It was a steakhouse, and most places like that were way out of my budget. But you could smell it from the next block, so it had to be amazing, and I had always wanted to go.
“Are you okay walking, or would you rather get a cab?” he asked, and I was in awe of his thoughtfulness. Each minute detail, every tiny thing was a big deal for me.
“I don’t mind walking.” I didn’t want his hand out of mine, and I hoped the stroll down the sidewalk would prolong it.
After walking a couple of blocks in silence, just watching the city and our surroundings, Logan’s feet came to an abrupt halt. We stood under a string of lights, and the hum of people around us seemed to scatter. I stopped beside him and looked up, hoping everything was all right. His eyes were closed and his jaw clenched. I started to get nervous. I feared he had changed his mind about our date, or me in general.
“I have to admit something,” he mumbled, grabbing my other hand and pulling me in front of him, my body desperate to lean into his.
“What’s that?” I stared up at him, my nerves threatening to take over my body.
“I’m nervous as fuck,” he said, followed by a small chuckle, although his stare didn’t match his smile. His sentence took me by surprise, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“That makes two of us.” I squeezed his hands, hoping he wasn’t about t
o let go, but when he released his hands from mine, a wave of disappointment rolled over me.
“I’m trying not to be too forward with you, Jess.” His eyes were downcast and then met mine.
“Logan, you’re being pretty perfect, actually.” I didn’t want him to doubt his behavior. I loved his gentle approach and didn’t want it to end.
He brought his fingers to my face and ran the tips over my cheeks. His big, strong hands were far softer than I imagined, and my eyes fluttered closed from his touch.
“Jess,” he whispered as he reached down, close to my face.
“Yeah?” I peered through a narrow slit in my lids, needing to catch a glimpse of his intoxicating eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” The crinkle between his brows made me weak in the knees.
“I wish you would.”
Logan’s soft lips pressed against mine, then pulled away slightly before brushing them against me once more. It was tender and sweet, beautiful.
The gorgeous man with the postcard eyes was quickly sweeping me off my feet, much faster than I intended and far harder than I expected.
Chapter Eleven
My senses were in overdrive as we waited for our meal. The aroma of grilled steaks caused my stomach to growl in a low rumble I hoped no one else heard. The room was dim as small white Christmas lights hung from the ceiling and draped to the corners, offering a romantic ambiance. Low music, old-school rock and roll, played softly in the room along with the hum of conversations surrounding us. But the table I shared with Logan was mostly silent. I felt a little awkward, but I was okay with the silence. I caught myself staring at him, unable to form words, too enamored by his beauty. But I worried at the same time. He seemed distracted as he fidgeted with his glass of water and silverware, adjusting it, straightening it, his fingers tapping a steady cadence on the sturdy wooden table. I could almost set my watch to the beat of his anxiety. But I was in awe of his nervousness. Looking at him, you wouldn’t imagine he ever got nervous about anything. He was strong and masculine, yet there was an innocence about him I couldn’t quite place.
“I love the atmosphere of this place,” I noted, hoping to grab his attention.
“The food is really good. I usually just pick it up. I’ve never actually eaten inside.” He straightened his silverware so it was perfectly aligned with the plate and evenly spaced. I watched in wonder as he nudged the spoon so the bottom sat on the same invisible horizontal line as his knife.
“No?” His words answered the question about whether he had ever brought another woman here, although I would never have asked. The thought of it made me nauseous, which was ridiculous. We hardly knew each other; I couldn’t exactly get upset about him seeing other women.
Please don’t let him be seeing other women.
“No, I’m a homebody.” He gave me that crooked smile, taking a large gulp of water.
“Me too!” A huge smile spread across my face.
“I’m usually at the bar or my apartment, where I’m comfortable.”
“Same here. I work a lot.” Not because I was comfortable or even enjoyed either one that much, but out of necessity. But Logan didn’t need to know that. “Did you always want to be a bartender?” I wanted to know everything about him.
“No,” he laughed, and cast his eyes down at the table.
“What did you want to be?” I pried, involuntarily grabbing his hand. It wasn’t something I intended to do, mine was simply drawn to his and didn’t give me a choice in the matter.
“A fisherman.” His answer was hesitant, although I wasn’t sure why.
“Really? What kind?” I genuinely wanting details, and the possibility of him sharing anything personal thrilled me.
“It probably sounds weird to someone from the city.”
“No, I’m just really curious.” I smiled, squeezing his hand before he intertwined our fingers, both of our eyes staring at them. His hands were strong and steady, mine tiny and frail.
“It was really just a dream.” The way he pushed it aside, dismissed it, bothered me.
“Well then, tell me your dream.”
“I wanted to own a shrimp boat and fish for a living. Being out on the water always seemed so peaceful.” His eyes shined when he spoke, and I wanted to leap across this table and plant my lips firmly onto his.
“I can definitely see the positive side of that. It actually sounds pretty amazing.”
He gave me a killer smile that reinforced my idea to jump over the table.
“And you ended up in New York City? Huge contrast.”
“Yeah, it is. Life in this city is the complete opposite of life on the bayou. But Gage is my only family, and when he decided to move here, I came along.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.” He looked into my eyes and gave me a quick wink before speaking.
“So what about you? What’s your dream?” he asked and gave me his undivided attention. He didn’t straighten anything on the table or fiddle with his hands. He stared at me, into me. The weight of it was almost too much to bear.
I searched my mind for the words to explain my desire to find happiness without sounding pathetic. I didn’t want to divulge the devastation I’d witnessed as a child to someone I’d just met, but the answer to his question was at the core of those years. I longed for stability I’d never had, but I couldn’t give him that as a response without sharing the extent of hate I’d seen. My greatest desire was to be loved. After years of brokenness, I just wanted to be whole.
But I didn’t tell anyone those things—I couldn’t—much less a virtual stranger. Not without scaring him off. And although Logan came across as someone who wouldn’t judge me and I could really open up to him, I wasn’t ready. And neither was he.
“I wanted to be a nurse.” It was the truth—it was my childhood dream. Before real life obliterated my hopes for any type of future. “A pediatric nurse, to be more specific. I always wanted to help kids.” I realized I hadn’t thought about that in years. Not since the day I realized it wasn’t in the hand I’d been dealt. I buried it and left it in my past.
“I bet you would have been great at that.” He smiled and stroked his thumb over the top of my hand he continued to hold.
“Life got in the way, ya know?” It was the only response I had.
“Yeah, I get it.” He nodded in agreement and then brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles first and then my wrist gently.
This man.
Our waitress approached our table with dinner, and I got excited and literally almost clapped my hands. Logan laughed as she placed the plate in front of me. I had never experienced the whole “food makes me happy” concept, but I was beginning to understand it.
“Thank you for recommending I get the steak,” I gushed as I cut into the meat. Logan didn’t waste a second diving into his plate.
I had spent so much of my life stressed and making myself physically sick, I couldn’t remember what it was like to be at peace—comfortable. But that’s exactly the way I felt when I was with Logan. I didn’t experience the anxiety of eating in front of a man the way other women did, just the opposite, actually.
When I was with Logan, I was hungry. For food, obviously—but for life. Hungry for peace. And for the first time in years, it almost seemed attainable.
I wasn’t sure how one person’s presence could have that effect without even trying, but Logan mastered it. Just being around him gave me a sense of calm I didn’t know existed. The fear of things messing up tried to creep up on me, but I pushed it down. Not tonight.
I would enjoy this evening and everything Logan brought to the table.
Literally.
Chapter Twelve
“I had a really good time.” I didn’t want it to end, but I also knew I didn’t want to move too fast. Afraid if I rushed things, he would tire of me, and that would be the end of this. Whatever this was.
“Me too,” Logan muttered, pulling me into his arms as we stood outside my front door.
“You’re so warm,” I whispered as I leaned into him, his body heat consuming me.
“Can I see you again?” His voice rumbled into my ear.
“I’d like that,” I replied, squeezing him tighter.
“I have to work tomorrow night, are you free for lunch?”
“I have to work a double tomorrow.” I sighed, wishing I didn’t need the hours or the shifts, but knowing it was my life, and there wasn’t another option.
“Damn,” he whispered, running his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp gently. His touch was magical, and I craved his lips. I looked up and stared at him. His eyes met mine, and he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, causing me to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
His lips pressed against mine, and I opened my mouth for him, craving more of him. Our tongues met and danced in unison, his fingertips pressed into my back. I knew I needed to take this slowly, and as much as I wanted to invite him inside, I couldn’t. But God, he felt so right. He pulled his lips away and pressed them against my forehead, remaining still for a few seconds. I let out a shaky breath, trying to restrain myself. My body craved more.
“Yeah,” he whispered, his lips touching my skin, his hot breath rolling along my forehead.
We both let out a small laugh at the same time before I pulled away. This unspoken need for each other was hard to deny or resist. But it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t easy.
“Maybe the next day? I can check my schedule.” I hoped I didn’t come across as needy, but I wanted to see him again.
“You do that.” He stared down at me, placing both of his hands on my cheeks and pressing his lips to mine once again. He pulled away and then pressed them back against mine, again and again.
“I better go.” He shook his head and tried to smile, but couldn’t quite make it happen.
“Okay.” I didn’t want to whine, but shit, I was tempted to beg him to stay. But I wouldn’t.
He kissed my forehead once again, then my cheek, and my forehead again before pulling away. I could tell it took as much effort for him to force himself to part as it did for me not to coerce him into coming inside. Which made me pretty happy.