by Sierra Rose
“Oh—him!” Stella turned around and gave Logan a little wink. “It’s nothing serious...”
“And that’s enough for you.” Lacy pushed her into the waiting arms of two more friends who’d come to lead her back to the table, trying to hide their laughter all the while. When they were gone, she turned back to Logan with a blushing smile. “Sorry about that. Stella can get a little...carried away when she’s been drinking.”
“That’s alright.” Logan straightened his shirt (which she’d been clawing) and gazed down at Lacy with a patient smile. “But for the record, I didn’t know she was dating anyone. You really can’t hold me to that—”
“Relax,” Lacy laughed, “I know.”
They stood there awkwardly for a moment, before the music changed gears—shifting down into a slower song. One with a hypnotic, driving beat.
Logan didn’t ask her formally. He was too afraid of being shot down. He simply held out his hand in a silent invitation. After a moment’s pause, she took it.
It was dancing like he’d never danced before. Probably because there was no posturing, no hidden cameras, no transparent agenda. They were just...dancing.
And it was magic.
He sucked in a silent breath as she rested her hands lightly upon his shoulders, swaying her body to the beat. There was an inch or two of space between them, and he was suddenly desperate to close it. With a permissive glance at her face, he wound his hands around her lower back, pulling her closer. This time, she was the one to catch her breath as they started swaying at the same time, their bodies pressed together as one.
“So, you’re a multi-tasker huh?”
Lacy looked up at him with wide eyes, catching her breath again as the blue lights haloed around his face. “Excuse me?”
Logan smiled, memorizing then rememorizing every line on her perfect face. “You have to go to a friend’s birthday party, but this jerk asked you out on the same night. You decide to do both. Save a little time. Attend both, while committing to neither.”
He spoke in a quick, fluid manner. As persuasive as he was charming. It was a skill he’d learned whilst laying the foundations for his company. One he’d perfected the bigger it grew.
Lacy’s body shook with silent laughter, and for one of the first times since they’d met, she gazed up at him with a genuine smile. “Attend both, while committing to neither?”
Logan nodded thoughtfully, shifting so she was pressed right up against his chest.
“Well you’re here at the club, but you’re not exactly ‘at’ the birthday party. You’re over here dancing with me.” His heart quickened just at the thought of it. “But at the same time, if anything over here starts going a way you don’t want it to, you have a pack of drunken women ready to rip me to shreds. It’s a clever set-up. Really.”
Instead of blushing at being caught, Lacy grinned without a hint of shame. “You can never be too careful. Especially as a woman. Especially out with a known philanderer.”
This time, it was Logan’s turn to laugh. “A known philanderer? Just because I was having sex with a woman who—and I know you don’t believe this—I sincerely thought was single at the time? That makes me a known philanderer?”
He felt her spine stiffen, as the smile melted off her face.
“Have you ever heard of Verum Investigations?” He shook his head and she pulled an inch or so back, looking him up and down. “That’s my company. Started it myself. We cater our services almost exclusively to women. Help them find out if their boyfriend or husband is being unfaithful. Banging the secretary. Seeing hot construction worker on the side.” She paused a second for effect. “We’ve even set up a few sting operations just to make sure they won’t cheat. We call them honey traps.”
Logan braced himself. He had a feeling this was leading somewhere bad.
“Let’s just say...this wasn’t the first time I’d seen your picture, Dylan Stone.”
Perfect. That’s just perfect. I find this amazing, beautiful, intelligent girl—who happens to carry a nightstick and scare me to death—and she already hates me because of my brother.
He was silent for a long time. Staring at the floor. Unable to say a single word in his own defense. When he finally did speak, it wasn’t at all what she was expecting.
“That’s clever,” he said quietly. “Verum Investigations.”
She pulled back, looking up at him in shock. “Excuse me?”
“Verum means truth in Latin, right? Your company isn’t about catching the men, it’s about helping the women. You just want them to learn the truth.”
Her mouth fell open as she stared up at him. The two were no longer dancing, they were simply standing there. Motionless in the middle of the spinning floor. For a second, she was completely unable to speak. Then a hint of that sparkling smile flickered in her eyes.
“Yes, that’s exactly it—”
She flew forward with a gasp, as a man knocked into her from behind. A man who was just as drunk as Stella the birthday girl. Logan caught her automatically, cradling her a second in his arms, before pulling respectfully away.
“I’ll go,” he said softly. “You don’t have to—”
“Dance with me,” she interrupted. Her eyes were shining with a mix of curiosity and caution, each battling against the other. In the end, curiosity won out. “Just...dance with me.”
Logan held out his hand with a smile. He needed no more invitation than that.
Chapter 16
For the next three hours, the two of them were locked together on the dance floor. Unable to see the world around them. Eyes focused only on each other.
For Logan, it was utterly bizarre. Three hours of dancing? He usually couldn’t go three minutes without looking for some kind of escape hatch. For Lacy, it was utterly surreal. This was the man she was dancing with? The one who’s picture was mounted on the office wall?
There was very little talking, just the occasional ‘would you like another drink?’ For the most part, they let their bodies do the talking. Swaying and twisting under the flashing lights. Melting into one another as they lost themselves to the hypnotic beat.
At first, they were cautious. Logan just as much so as Lacy. Never before had he met a woman who didn’t throw herself upon him. Never before had he met a woman who made him make the first move. When there was an inch of space between them, he was the one who was quick to fix it. When she spun around with a breathless grin, he was the one who pulled her back.
It didn’t take long for that caution to turn into something deeper. Something Logan had never felt before. A primal need to be close.
He lowered his head as she laced her arms around his neck, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. They were cheek to cheek. He could feel the heat radiating off her body. He could hear each one of her shallow breaths as they whispered in his ear. For a split second, he closed his eyes—swept away by the magic of it all. Then he opened them up with a little smile, and did something that was very, very stupid.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Lacy pulled back like she’d been burned, her eyes snapping open as though she’d received some sort of electrical shock. For a second, she simply stared back at him, her eyes searching his. Looking like someone who’d been awoken too early, and was trying to remember their dream. Then she blinked very quickly, and stepped out of his arms.
“I’m such an idiot,” she muttered, pacing away from him.
“Lacy—wait!”
Logan took off after her, knocking apart happy couples as he raced toward the door. It opened a second before he could reach it, hitting him in the face with a blast of cold air. He froze for a second, trying to get his bearings, then he spotted a head of blonde hair and his feet hit the pavement—sprinting after her down the street.
“Lacy—that’s not what I meant!” he called as he ran, leaping over fire hydrants and side-stepping taxis as he closed the gap between them. “Just give me a second to explain—”
&n
bsp; “What’s there to explain?!” She stopped so suddenly that he almost went barreling right into her, staring up at him with an icy glare. “This morning, you were having a steamy affair with another man’s wife. Now you’re not. And you have a black eye to prove it. What better revenge is there, than fucking the woman who caught you?”
“What?” Logan pulled back in horror. “Is that really what you—”
“What else can I think?” she interrupted, her eyes flashing with hurt and rage. “I know what you are, Dylan. I’ve seen the pictures.”
From her perspective, there was a great deal of logic in everything she was saying. But Logan hadn’t been programmed to take a verbal beating like that lying down.
“Don’t do that,” he countered angrily. “Don’t put your trust issues on me. If you don’t want to go out with me—fine. But don’t pretend like it’s because I’ve done anything wrong. Yes, I may have slept with other women, but I’ve been nothing but a gentlemen to you from the moment we’ve met.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off first. “And don’t, for a second, pretend this is all about me. I bet there isn’t a man on the planet who could pass your little truth test. Whether you’d seen pictures of him or not.”
“Wow.” She pulled back, folding her arms across her chest. “Is that really the defense you’re going with? That everybody cheats?”
“Everybody lies,” he shot back. “At some point or another. Whether it’s harmless or not. No one is exactly who they say they are, one hundred percent of the time. Even you, Lacy.” He shook his head, glaring down at her in the dark. “And I don’t need to defend myself. The two of us weren’t dating when I was sleeping with anyone else. I was just minding my business today when you burst into my house with some lunatic hell-bent asshole wanting to kill me.”
“So then what do you want?” she cried, her voice rising in anger to match his. “You bail the guy out of jail, spend the night dancing with me—you don’t make any sense, Dylan! What the hell do you want?!”
“I want—” He broke off mid-shout, captivated by her all over again as she glared up at him in the dark. In an instant, the anger faded, the temper cooled, and he found the only thing he was able to do was smile. “I want you to let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
It took a second for her to change tracks. To realize that the yelling portion of the night was over. “Wait...what?”
Logan pursed his lips and tilted his head towards the huge flashing sign beside them. They had come to a stop right in front of what advertised to be Cleveland’s best local espresso.
“You have to admit...it’s nearby.”
She stared in disbelief for a moment, before a short-burst laughter escaped her lips. Her eyes narrowed, like she was angry that he’d tricked her into a smile, before she begrudgingly wound her arm through his.
“One cup of coffee,” she warned. “That’s it.”
He nodded with a gallant smile, feeling more alive in that very moment, than he had in the last seven years. Of course, before she could see, he rolled his eyes with a dismissive scoff.
“Please, Lacy, what else would I possibly want?” He gave her a little wink as she stomped past him through the door. “You really have to stop coming on to me...”
Chapter 17
The coffee soothed their egos and cooled their tempers with the first steaming gulp. A sudden sense of calm rushed through Logan’s system, and he looked up at her with a shy smile.
“Would you like to take a walk, get some fresh air?” He cocked his head towards the window. “It’s such a beautiful night.”
“It’s cold,” she corrected, but she gathered up her jacket with a grin. “Cleveland on the waterfront, man. Cold is understating it.”
“Nah—it’s perfect.” He lay some bills upon the table, and pushed open the door for her again as they headed outside. “It’s brisk—not humid. You feel like you can breathe over here.”
She cocked her head curiously, caught off guard by the wistful longing in his voice.
“As opposed to where?”
He paused guiltily, editing on the fly.
“...as opposed to where I live in the city.”
“Yeah,” she snorted, and pointed up the hill, “five blocks that way?”
There was another pause. Followed by a pointed change of conversation.
She laughed again, lacing her arm automatically through his as the two of them wandered slowly down the street. The stars were out, the moon was bright, and before long, they found themselves staring out over the water—leaning against the railing on the pier.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this,” she murmured, snuggling into her jacket with a contented smile. “Just stopped and looked out at the water.”
He gazed down at her curiously, resisting the urge to put his arm around her waist. She was cold—couldn’t he hold her? They’d been dancing a lot closer than this.
“What do you mean? You live right here, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but even when you live in a beautiful place, it’s easy not to see it.” She shivered again, and Logan folded his hands tightly together to keep them to himself. “This company I work for—I made it myself. Built it from the ground up. It’s a lot of work to keep it running, more work than you could possibly imagine. I forget, sometimes, to take a quiet moment for myself.”
And it’s official. You are absolutely perfect.
Logan’s eyes widened as he stared down at her. Bathed in the silver moonlight. Pensive as she gazed out over the water. Sending out frosty little clouds with each breath.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he said softly. “You start to forget there’s anything else out there. You start to think the world ends at the four walls of your office. Like if you didn’t come in every morning, life as you knew it would just stop.”
She nodded automatically, then shot him a strange look.
“You work construction, Dylan. You clock out. And from everything I’ve dug up on you, you spend your entire life in a series of not-so-quiet moments.”
Logan flinched like he’d been hit. Watching the perfect moment vanish before his eyes.
“You’re right,” he said briskly. “It’s not the same.” They stared for a while longer at the little waves lapping against the shore, before he glanced down at her. “Can I walk you home?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
Neither one of them said a word as they paced through the darkness. Hand in hand. It was a lengthy silence, but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. Quite the contrary. It felt unbelievable good to be with a person that allowed him to simply think. That didn’t feel the need to fill up every second with nervous chatter the way most girls did.
Quicker than Logan would have liked, they reached Dylan’s house. She stood beside him quietly on the porch, as he found the key and opened up the front door—only then noticing the large suitcase that was sitting in the corner.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked curiously.
He glanced down in surprise. With everything that had happened in the last few hours, he had completely forgotten that it was there. The automatic reply rose up in his throat—he was about to tell her he’d be taking some kind of vacation—but the words stuck when their eyes met.
A second later, they vanished completely. Morphing into something new. Twisting and changing on the fly into a new plan. A new possibility for what these two weeks might become.
“I was...but not anymore.”
Chapter 18
The next day, Logan got up early. Determined to make the very most of his thirteen days left in Cleveland. He went out for a quick jog (growing more addicted with every step), opened the back door for Spartacus (who had been quarantined in the spare bedroom), and took a long shower to relax his tired muscles (which were confused as to why he wasn’t spending the entire day sitting in an office chair).
When he was finished, he emptied out his suitcase and lay each one of his clothes across the bed—surveying them
with an appraising eye. He hadn’t brought much, because he hadn’t known he was staying. The only non-suit outfit he had, he’d already worn yesterday, and short of what he’d hastily purchased in the hotel gift shop, he was running rather short.
Here’s a thought, why don’t you borrow from your twin? You know—your identical twin? You’re bound to be the same size...
Thinking himself rather brilliant, Logan pulled open the dresser drawer and started rooting around inside. He felt nosy as hell, but was delighted by what he found. It seemed that the only clothes his brother wore were the classic jeans and tee-shirt combination, but from what Logan had seen walking around Cleveland, there was nothing better to blend in.
He pulled them on, smiling to himself all the while. Sure enough, a perfect fit. At this rate, he wouldn’t ever have to go shopping again—he could just send his brother.
After giving himself a quick once-over in the mirror—nervously tucking then untucking his shirt—he reached automatically for the hair gel sitting on top of his bag. He squirted a big dollop into his hand, prepared to slick everything back to perfection, but then stopped a second before it could touch his hair. For a second, he froze—looking between his palm and his reflection. Then he paced deliberately into the bathroom and washed it off his hand.
He wasn’t going into the office today, there were no international meetings or high-level executives to impress. How about he take a page out of his brother’s book and act his age for a couple of days? He was only thirty. Why would he dress like he was fifty?
Feeling suddenly nervous, he ran his fingers back slowly through his hair. It was an automatic habit—one he’d seen Dylan do many times. One he always tried to do himself, before he was inevitably stopped by the dried gel holding back his hair.
Nothing stopped him now. He combed his fingers carefully through, marveling at the soft texture. Noting how long it had gotten as it fell in sandy waves beside his ears.