Cricket Cove

by Haddix, T. L.

  “If I didn’t think it would hurt you, I’d pull you in here with me.”

  “I’d get in there if I didn’t think it would hurt you,” she countered. “What’s bothering you? Hip?”

  He sighed. “Yes. It’s just a little sore.”

  She kissed him again. “Then I’ll leave you to the soaking and get something pulled together for breakfast.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder at him. “I know.”

  Logan’s guilt at seeing the bruises had been so strong that he’d wanted to hit something. As he got dressed, he was still having trouble believing Amelia wasn’t bothered by what he’d done. He’d have to be more careful with her in the future.

  When he came out of the bedroom and into the living room, the sight of her puttering around his kitchen gave him pause. He’d never had a relationship with a woman before where he’d felt comfortable giving her such free rein in his home.

  Amelia saw him standing in the doorway and smiled. “Perfect timing. Come on, it’s ready.” She topped off the mug of coffee and handed it to him across the bar. “I made an omelet and some bacon.”

  There was also toast, he saw, as she came around the bar to sit beside him. She was still wearing just his T-shirt and had stolen a pair of his thick socks. Despite himself, Logan’s lips quirked with amusement.

  “Nice outfit.”

  Her answering grin was cheeky. “Thanks. So what do you have planned today?”

  “We start working with CAD today. Fortunately, the advanced class is small, so if there are any glitches, it won’t disrupt the whole program. What about you? What are your plans?”

  She took a bite of toast and shrugged. “Catching up,” she answered after she’d swallowed. “I’m sure there’s a laundry list of things I’ll have to do, having been away for so long.” She glanced at him, some of her nonchalance fading. “Do you have plans this evening?”

  Logan shook his head. “No. Do you want to do something?”

  “I thought I might cook dinner, if you’re interested.”

  He set his fork down and turned, his legs brushing hers. “Are you trying to fatten me up, woman?” Leaning down, he kissed her softly before she could answer.

  A soft, happy glow lit her eyes when he lifted his head. “No. I just don’t want you to go hungry. And as ornery as you are, for some reason, I enjoy spending time with you.”

  “Ornery? Nah, you’re thinking of someone else. I’m mild-mannered and pleasant.” He tugged her off her barstool and into his arms, his hands slipping beneath the shirt to cup her bottom. He traced the line of her panties as they curved around her hips. “What time do you want me there?”

  Amelia slid her arms around his neck. “Whatever time you want to show up. I’ll plan on having food ready around six or so.”

  Logan rested his forehead against hers, enjoying the soft feel of her in his arms. He didn’t want to let her go, but he had to leave for work soon.

  “Stay here as long as you like. Just lock up on your way out.”

  She smiled. “I’ll head out when you do. Though I do still have the spare key Archer gave me years ago, you know. I probably shouldn’t tell you that, in case you kick me out someday. Now I won’t be able to sneak back in and roll around in your bed while you’re at work.”

  “You feel free to roll around in my bed anytime,” he told her, laughing. “As long as I can have the same privilege.”

  “Absolutely.”

  That evening when he got off work, he drove to the florist’s shop that was located next to Emma’s photography studio. Inside, he looked around, a little uncomfortable, as a woman came up behind the counter.

  “Can I help you?”

  He rubbed his neck. “Uh, yeah. I need some flowers.”

  She smiled. “Girlfriend or wife?”

  Logan blinked. “Girlfriend?”

  “New relationship, huh?” She laughed. “Okay, are we apologizing for something or are we wooing her?”

  “A little of both, I suppose.” He knew his cheeks were red. It was decidedly odd, having a girlfriend, but he supposed that’s exactly what Amelia was. “I want something soft, something that doesn’t just scream… I don’t know, hearts and bows, I guess.”

  “Something feminine but still romantic?” she asked.

  He nodded, relieved that she understood. He figured he wasn’t the first awkward man she’d dealt with. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”

  “Do you know what her favorite flower is?” she asked as she started pulling some things together on the work bench.

  “No, but I know someone who will. Be right back.” He hurried next door, glad to see Zanny instead of Emma in the reception area. The sliding screen was drawn, separating the waiting area from the studio. “Hey.”

  Zanny smiled at him. “Hey, back. What brings you here?”

  He kept his voice low. “A quick question. What’s Amelia’s favorite flower?”

  “Anything soft, and anything pink or white. She doesn’t like mums or carnations, and she likes open roses, not buds. Why?”

  “Just wondering. Thanks!” He left before she could question him further and went back to the florist’s, telling the woman what Zanny had said.

  She eyeballed him. “Did you go to Emma’s or the bakery to find that out?”

  “Emma’s. Why?”

  “I did her wedding flowers. Who’s your girlfriend?”

  The joys of living in a small town. “Amelia.”

  Her smile grew. “Really? Oh, I know exactly what to fix, then. She’s such a sweetheart.”

  “She is.”

  “You know, if you’re taking her flowers, you should also take her chocolate. They make a divine triple-chocolate mini-cake next door.”

  Logan’s brows drew together. “What, are you in cahoots with them or something?”

  She laughed, not offended in the least. “Absolutely. And I know Amelia. I got to know her pretty well during the wedding planning. If you take her these flowers and that cake, whatever it is you feel like you need to apologize for, you’ll get a little further.”

  Shaking his head, Logan turned and went out again, this time heading for the bakery. He got the cake she’d specified, returning a few minutes later with the white paper box in hand. He held it up, and she nodded.

  “Good job. What do you think?” She held the bouquet of flowers out for his inspection, and Logan felt something inside him soften.

  “I think it’s perfect.” The bouquet was full of blooms ranging from the palest pink to a deep rose, and the flowers were all just at the peak of their beauty. She’d wrapped it in a soft pink–and-white tissue paper and tied the whole thing together with a lacy ribbon.

  He paid for the flowers and thanked her. He had reached his SUV when the sound of a throat clearing caught his attention. Closing his eyes, he released a half-groan, half-sigh. Sure enough, when he opened them back up, Zanny was standing in front of the studio.

  “Don’t even think you’re leaving until I see those flowers,” she chided.

  He put the cake in the passenger seat, then closed the door and walked to meet her. Without a word, he handed the flowers over.

  Zanny took them, her face softening, and went inside. He had no choice but to follow.

  “These are so pretty,” she said, tracing the petals of one of the roses before handing the bouquet back to him. “She’ll love them.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Oh, yes. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk yesterday after all the drama. How is Pip?”

  “She’s okay.” He looked over at the poster-size portrait of Noah and Eli, who were posing with baby Molly. “How’s John? They butted heads a bit. I’m sorry
about that. I feel a bit like it’s my fault.”

  “It is,” she surprised him by saying. “We know you hurt her when you first came to town, and while Pip is ready to apparently forgive you, the rest of us aren’t being so quick to follow. She’s the heart of this family as much as Sarah is, and when she’s hurt, it affects the rest of us.”

  Logan didn’t know how to respond. He knew he could promise he’d never hurt her again until he was blue in the face, and it wouldn’t do a bit of good. He settled on telling her, “I understand. I should go. She’s expecting me.”

  As he drove to Amelia’s, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. If they didn’t end up in a permanent arrangement, she was going to have to deal with the fallout as much as he was. And he was starting to realize just how much of a problem that could be. It had been all too easy to set aside those concerns and take what he’d wanted. After all, she had wanted it, too. And it wasn’t like he was intending to just use her and discard her, far from it. But he worried that when the time came to commit, he wouldn’t be able to do it, no matter how much he cared for her.

  The risk that he would end up hurting her much more seriously in the long run was too great. He could have injured her last night during his nightmare. Logan would have a hard time living with himself if he did.

  He glanced down at the flowers. “What are you doing?” he asked himself.

  The memory of the way she’d nestled in close to him that morning after breakfast gave him his answer. He couldn’t resist being near her, being with her. She made him happy, damn it. And Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d been happy. If he had to guess, it was before his mother had died.

  Even the thought that if he stayed with her, they would, in all likelihood, end up having children wasn’t enough to douse his need for her.

  He was going to have to learn to deal with his nightmares and his fears. Otherwise they would both be paying for his negligence for a long time to come.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Amelia was incredibly, ridiculously nervous as she waited for Logan to show up. The sound of every car that went up the hollow had her tensing, waiting to see if it was him.

  “I should have set a time,” she muttered as she checked the homemade yeast rolls she’d been proofing. They were ready to go in the oven, and she popped them in.

  She’d been off her game all day, starting with her discovery that a family of mice had set up housekeeping in her pantry. As this was something she’d dealt with the first year she’d lived in the trailer, she had most of her dry goods put up in plastic containers the little bastards couldn’t get into. But a few bags of beans she’d shoved into the closet before she’d left had been casualties, as was a bag of sugar.

  After cleaning up that mess, she’d made a grocery and post-office run, then returned to clean the rest of the house like a woman possessed.

  Logan was coming over. It was almost like a date. And the only way she’d been able to get the least bit of a handle on her nerves had been to stay busy. Looking around the kitchen at all the food she’d cooked, a good portion of which she’d freeze and put up for quick meals for later, she shook her head.

  “You are Sarah Campbell’s daughter, no doubt.”

  The timer for the rolls had just beeped when the flash of headlights washed across the kitchen. This time, there was no doubt someone had pulled into her driveway. She froze, her stomach going nuts with butterflies. She took a breath and pulled the rolls from the oven, then glanced down to make sure she looked okay. She’d chosen to wear a long broom skirt and wrap sweater over a silk camisole. Her hair was up with tendrils loose on her neck, and she’d dabbed perfume here and there.

  She didn’t go to the door until he knocked. Since the evening wasn’t bone-chillingly cold, she’d left the front door open with the screen door locked. The porch light illuminated Logan, who was propped against the doorjamb. He smiled when he saw her.

  “Hi,” she said softly as she unlocked the door to let him in.

  “Hi. Brought you something.” He handed her a small white pastry box. “I heard you like chocolate cake.”

  Giddy, she nodded. “I do. Thank you.”

  When he whipped a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her without a word, Amelia gasped softly.

  “Oh, Logan.” She handed the cake back to him and took the flowers. “Oh.” She buried her nose in them, sniffing out the fragrance that the florist’s coolers hadn’t destroyed.

  “I guess you like those, huh?” The expression on his face was hard to define when she looked up. She settled on intense and pleased.

  “Yes.” She didn’t know if she could say another word without bursting into tears. Family aside, no one had ever gotten her flowers. Not even Jimmy. She turned and went to the kitchen to pull a vase out for them, struggling against her emotions.

  Logan followed. “Okay, now I’m worried. Are you crying?”

  She swiped at her cheeks. “No.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t? Then I guess you’ve sprung some odd kind of leak.”

  Amelia turned her face into his palm when he touched her cheek. “I’m sorry. It’s just that no one has ever… Thank you.” She couldn’t stop looking at the flowers. They were exactly what she would have picked for herself. The significance of the box finally penetrated her mind, and she laughed. “Whose arm did you twist for information, soldier boy? Emma or Zanny?”

  “What do you mean?” He tried to look innocent, but his lips were twitching. “I did this all on my own.”

  She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Uh-huh. Well, you did good. Thank you, Logan.”

  “I find it incredibly difficult to believe no one has ever given you flowers before,” he whispered, tracing her lips with his finger.

  “Well, they haven’t. Not counting my family, that is. Thank you.”

  He teased her lips with his. “It seems I’m your first in several ways, then.”

  After a lengthy, heated kiss, he pulled back with a sigh. “Something smells beyond good.”

  Amelia watched his eyes widen as he looked around the kitchen at all the food. She burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to eat it all. Most of this is for the freezer.”

  He lifted the lid of one of the cookers on the stove. “I was starting to worry. I mean, I know we worked up an appetite from last night, but damn.”

  “Hush.” She smacked him lightly on the arm. “You’re welcome to any of this, but I made the pot roast, potatoes and carrots, beans, and rolls for tonight.”

  “Don’t forget the cake,” he teased. “Though if I’d known you had fixed all this…”

  She pinched his butt. “Don’t even joke about not bringing chocolate. I’m a total stereotype when it comes to that magical substance.”

  They talked about their days as they ate. When she told him she had to go to Whitesburg the next day, he pouted a little.

  “I was hoping we could have lunch together.”

  Amelia sat back and shook her head. “I figured you’d be tired of spending time with me by now.”

  Logan was solemn when he answered. “No.”

  There were those damnable butterflies again, tickling her stomach. “No?”

  “Not even close.”

  She ran her foot up his leg in a caress, feeling oddly humbled. “That’s good to know.”

  He helped her with the cleanup without even being asked. After all the food was put away, they headed into the living room. When she saw him wince as he kicked his shoes off, she frowned.

  “Hip still bothering you?”

  Logan’s mouth tightened, but he nodded. “It isn’t too bad. Just a little aggravated.”

  She’d wondered about that all day, whether he would still be paying for th
eir escapades from last night or not. Just in case he was, she’d prepared. She checked the front door to make sure it was locked, then started down the hall.

  “Come with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the bedroom.” When he didn’t respond, she glanced over her shoulder at him. He was fighting a smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Sarge. I’m not taking you in here to seduce you. Yet.”

  The trailer had originally belonged to Zanny’s father. An over-the-road truck driver, he hadn’t been home a lot, but when he was home, he’d liked luxury. He’d not only had a fireplace installed in the living room, but in the bedroom, as well.

  “Go ahead and strip down, please,” she instructed as she bent to light the fire she’d laid earlier.

  Logan was looking around, and she realized that this was the first time he’d had a chance to observe her room. The other night they’d spent here, he’d been in no shape to take note of the decor. “I left my bag in the car. I didn’t want to presume anything,” he confessed as he traced the lines of the quilt that covered the bed.

  “Like whether you’d be staying the night?” she asked.

  “Yeah, like that.”

  Amelia crossed to him and started tugging his shirt from his waistband. “Well, that decision is entirely up to you, but I was hoping you would stay.”

  “So maybe you aren’t tired of my company, either?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He tried to kiss her, but Amelia stepped back. “Not just yet. Let’s get some of those kinks worked out first.”

  “I’m trying,” he teased as he dropped his shirt into the chair beside her dresser.

  She made him strip down all the way, not even letting him leave his underwear on. His heavy erection jutted out, telling her very blatantly that he was interested in more than a rubdown. She couldn’t resist touching him, though she kept her contact brief.