A rumble of thunder warned of the coming storm and chased them from their blanket on the shore. They got the hay home and inside before the downpour, then worked together to complete the evening ranch chores as raindrops drummed on the barn’s tin roof.
She rode with Logan in the truck to help at his place, too, before he cornered her up in the hayloft and had his way with her for a third time. Not that she was complaining, since he’d brought up the blanket and the cooler with the lunch and drinks she’d packed early that morning. The sandwiches were a bit soggy, but still good considering the growling of her empty stomach.
They’d half-dressed to eat; he in his jeans, she in her T-shirt and panties, and the coziness of the loft remained comfortable enough to linger in the semi-dark. Currently, she lay with her head pillowed on his chest, his arm around her, and his work-rough fingers trailing up and down her arm. The flipped over corner of the blanket covered the lower half of their bodies, and his caresses kept her blood at a slow simmer.
Joy lightly massaged his forearm, loving the feel of his corded muscles beneath her fingertips. She suspected her feelings encompassed much more than his body, but wasn’t ready to examine the full scope of them just yet.
“You mind if I ask you something?”
His hand stilled and his heart gave a soft thud beneath her ear. She shifted her head to rest her chin on his chest, waiting for his reply. Subtle tension stole through his body even though he didn’t move a muscle.
“Don’t know until you ask.”
While not particularly encouraging, she forged ahead anyway. “How come you haven’t just sold this place? The land is valuable enough, and that old brick farmhouse is a treasure.”
“I owe more than it’s all worth.”
“How did that happen?” When he noticeably stiffened, she rubbed her hand across his chest and rested it over his heart. “I’m just asking, Logan, not judging.”
An inhale and sigh relaxed his muscles. “Any number of ways. Too much rain, not enough rain. Either makes for a bad harvest.”
“Doesn’t insurance cover that?”
It took longer for him to answer that question. “My dad couldn’t afford the premiums while paying for my mom’s cancer treatments.”
Her hand stilled. “I never knew your mom had been sick.”
“I can’t remember a time she wasn’t. By the third round of chemo, she couldn’t take it anymore. Mentally, or physically.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Dad took out a second mortgage to cover medical bills, and somehow, the bank gave him a third one after she passed. I thought things were okay when I got out of the Army and took the job in Minnesota. I’d sent a lot of my military pay home, and Dad said he was doing good. Obviously, he was lying, and I had no clue. It wasn’t until he died that I found out exactly how bad things were with the back taxes, delinquent fees on the mortgages, and a couple bad years of crop loss.”
“And you had to take it all on by yourself. Do you have any other family? Other than your brother?”
“I have a great aunt and uncle in Pulaski, and a couple cousins, but we’re not close. Other than a text from my cousin Neil a couple times a year, we don’t keep in touch.”
Their choice, or yours? she wondered, sad that he didn’t have that family connection. Her lack of family other than her grandparents was not her choice at all.
“Doesn’t matter, though,” Logan said. “Because none of this is their responsibility anyway. I did what I could for as long as I could, and that’s it. When the bank finally sent the foreclosure notice, it was actually a bit of a relief.”
Emotion roughened his voice at the end. The hint of guilt told her it took a lot to admit that out loud, and for the first time, she could understand a little bit why he’d given up. He’d probably lasted a lot longer than most people would’ve. Certainly his brother—the one person who should share the responsibility—was nowhere to be seen.
“You know, I don’t even like farming.”
“You don’t?”
“The crop part of it, anyway. Too much of a gamble.”
“And what about welding? You prefer that?”
“I don’t know, but at least that was my choice. The farm never was.”
How different things would be right now if he hadn’t felt obligated to keep things going after his father died. Five years ago, he probably could’ve sold the place and covered the debt. Instead, he’d held on and fought to keep it alive.
Whether he realized it or not, that was a choice right there.
Her gut insisted he loved the land, and regret would lay heavy on his conscience when it was gone. The song he’d been working on the morning she’d asked him to pretend to be her fiancé was evidence enough. His deepest emotions came out in his music, though she doubted he fully recognized that truth.
The thought of him losing everything made her heart hurt. For him, and for the possibility of them. He’d once said he stayed for his father, but she suspected his mother’s memory played an equal part in his decision.
Somehow, she had to figure out a way to help without offending his pride, so this time…he’d stay for her.
“Enough about all that,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, have you ever seen the documentary called Alive Inside?”
She set aside her determination for now and went with his subject change. “No. What’s it about?”
“I was doing some research the other day when I came across a story about a social worker experimenting with dementia patients and music. I didn’t watch the whole video, but from the little I saw, and the comments posted, his efforts have had an amazing effect on a lot of people. I thought you might want to check it out.”
Joy pushed up to fold her hands atop his chest and rest her chin. “You were researching dementia?”
His shrug held a hint of self-consciousness. “I don’t know anything about it, so I wanted to see what it was, what to expect.” His gaze met hers in the dim light shining up from the lights below, one hundred percent serious. “It’s a terrible disease.”
“It is.” She swallowed hard past the emotion clogging her throat. “Thank you for letting me know about the documentary.”
“June is a wonderful woman. Anything that keeps her with us longer is worth a try.”
Us. Did he have any idea what that one word did to her?
She ducked her head to blink away tears.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you sad.” His hand rose to cup her jaw, lifting her face to his as his thumb brushed over her cheekbone.
“You’ve made me happy,” she corrected. “Amazing the difference of a couple weeks, isn’t it? I never expected…this.”
“Me neither. But I like it.”
“Me, too.”
He urged her up for a kiss that was more emotional than sexual—until he rolled her over on the blanket and slid one knee between hers. His hand slipped under her shirt to knead her breast. As he kissed his way down her neck, she arched her head to the side to give him plenty of access, and her gaze lit on the faint outline of his guitar propped in the corner near the loft ladder.
“Logan? Can I ask you something else?”
“Sure.”
“Would you play something for me?”
He paused before making a hmm-ing noise against her throat. “Like a game?”
Her pulse skipped a beat. “Like a song.”
He stilled, then lifted his head and followed her gaze toward the instrument. She turned her attention to his face as he stared, his brow furrowed. With a shake of his head, he pulled his hand from beneath her shirt and pushed away from her to sit back on his heels.
“I don’t think—”
“Please?” she said softly as she sat up.
He shifted to sit with his arms looped around his drawn up knees. “You know how I feel about this.”
“It doesn’t have to be one of yours.”
Now his gaze met hers, guarded, but not completely shut off
. She got up and crossed the loft barefoot to get the guitar, heart pounding up near her throat the whole way. His gaze travelled down her bare legs and back up on her return to the blanket. He took the guitar when she handed it over, and she dropped to her knees next to him.
“You know other songs, don’t you?”
“I do. But I’ve never played for anyone before.”
“See, now that’s where you screwed up. A guy and a guitar is one of the hottest things around. Total chick magnet.”
A brief smile touched his lips, but it faded fast. He hesitated, then shifted to position the instrument on his thighs. As he plucked a few times at the strings, he ducked his head, then his fingers started picking out chords, though not to any melody she recognized.
Realizing staring at him probably wasn’t helping, she repositioned herself onto her side behind him and ran her hand over his hunched shoulders.
Finally, he asked, “You know ‘Toes’ by the Zac Brown Band?”
She continued to rub his tense back. “Yes. Great song.”
“Then sing it with me.”
Joy smiled, and when he started singing, she joined right in. His voice was soft at first, nearly drowned out by hers, but at about the halfway point, his unease faded and his words strengthened.
After the first song, he moved on to ‘Desperado’ by the Eagles, one of her all-time favorites, and then, ‘Country Roads’ by John Denver. That one she didn’t know, but she hummed along as he sang, until she recognized bits in the chorus.
When his fingers picked out the beginning melody to ‘The River’ by Garth Brooks, she drew in a breath of anticipation. She’d half-expected him to stop since she’d barely joined in on the last one. He sang without hesitation or self-consciousness, as if the music had taken over and he didn’t even realize her voice had gone silent.
She knew every word. The first time she’d ever heard the song, the beautiful lyrics struck a chord deep inside and spoke to her soul. To her, it was a message of hope, and optimism, and not giving up.
What did Logan hear in the words? Did he feel like his river had dried up? That he’d stood aside as the waters slipped away? Or was he satisfied with the notion the river had changed course, and he had no choice but to follow where it flowed?
She closed her eyes, letting his husky voice flow over her like a warm summer breeze. Emotion welled in her heart, and tears stung her eyes again. At the end of the song, with just the light patter of rain on the roof filling the quiet, she rose up to hug him around the neck from behind, pressing her chest to his back while laying her cheek against his.
“Thank you.”
The whispered gratitude wasn’t for the singing, but for him trusting her enough to share the music with her. Her lungs constricted with the confirmation of her earlier suspicion.
She’d fallen in love with him, and there was no going back. Would he stick around for her, or leave her, like everyone else?
Logan set aside the guitar and twisted around to lay Joy on her back. His body covered hers, the softness of his worn jeans a teasing caress as his knee rested between her bare thighs. “Did it make you want me?”
She forced a grin, pulling his head down to hers while sliding one leg up to hook over his hip. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Then for you, I’ll play.”
Chapter 17
‡
Logan smiled at June and Al across the table at Nino’s as they enjoyed their traditional Italian after dinner drink. He enjoyed watching the older couple tease each other, and with Joy’s hand on his thigh beneath the table since the chocolate chip cannoli, the Tuesday night dinner had been pretty near perfect.
Why then, was he feeling so…restless?
He switched his gaze to Joy, and underneath the draped tablecloth, threaded his fingers with hers. She squeezed his hand in response, but kept her focus on her grandpa’s story as she rested her chin in her free hand, elbow braced on the table.
A tender smile curved her mouth, and he let his gaze linger on her profile. The delicate arch of her eyebrows, long lashes, the greenish tint of her hazel eyes in the candlelight. Freckles danced across the bridge of her nose, spilling over onto her high cheekbones. The word beautiful didn’t do her justice.
His attention dropped to her lips. They’d stolen moments where they could since her grandparents returned from Milwaukee Sunday night, and yet, he still longed to lean over and kiss her again.
She was off tomorrow, so he planned to ask later if she’d like to come over for dinner. He hadn’t cooked for a woman ever, but seeing as she didn’t want anyone of importance to know they were truly together, it wasn’t like they could go out on a real date without the disguise of her grandparents.
A surge of resentment revealed the problem, he realized. Keeping things secret from her grandpa and friends was still bothering him. Especially since he’d opened up with the music when she’d asked. After the day they’d shared, he wouldn’t have been able to deny her anything.
Yet since then, there’d been a subtle distance between them he couldn’t quite pinpoint.
As Al took a sip of his limoncello, Logan noticed June look to the side and lift her hand in a wave. Following her gaze, he saw Edna and Millie two tables away with their husbands. Neither of the book club members acknowledged June’s greeting, and annoyance tightened his jaw. They didn’t like him, but that was no reason to be rude to her.
He caught Edna’s gaze and smiled at the blush that colored her face. She was definitely reliving that encounter in the pharmacy. In the interest of making her as uncomfortable as possible, he pulled Joy’s hand from beneath the table and lifted it to his mouth for a kiss just as she straightened in her seat.
Her head swung around as he pressed his lips against the back of her hand, above the knuckle where his mother’s ring graced her finger. He met her gaze, and when her lips parted slightly, he couldn’t help drawing her in for a full-contact kiss.
As his mouth met hers, it took a moment to realize she’d stiffened in his arms, not melted. He withdrew to see a blush on her cheeks to rival Edna’s. She gave him a forced smile, pulled her hand free, then turned away. He noticed June’s wide grin, and Al’s pinched eyebrows at the same time a small group approached their table on the way to be seated.
Tara and Wes, along with Charlie and Dana.
No wonder she hadn’t kissed him back like each and every time they were alone. Logan rubbed his hands on his thighs, his neck and ears burning during the greeting exchange. Tara eyed him with a steely look of speculation before flipping her dark, silky hair back over her shoulder as she spoke to Joy.
“Rowdy’s is having karaoke Saturday night before the band. You in?”
He waited for her to say no. Hoped she’d say no. The sale was Friday, so he’d likely be preparing for his move from the farm most of the day on Saturday.
“Of course. Sounds fun.”
Tara turned her dark gaze his way. “How about you, Logan? You going to come sing with us?”
The heat scorching his body doubled, and his hands fisted on his thighs. Had Joy told her? “I’m not much for karaoke.”
“Us neither,” Charlie assured him with a grin. “But it’s fun to watch the girls.”
Dana hugged her fiancé from the side. “And if Charlie drinks enough, it’s really fun to watch him.”
Everyone laughed, but Logan noticed Joy did not turn and encourage him to say yes. She may not have said anything about his singing, but if she wanted him to join them at Rowdy’s, she’d let him know, wouldn’t she? “I appreciate the invite, but I’ll be packing all day after the sheriff’s sale on Friday.”
That put an end to the conversation pretty quick, and after a round of goodbyes, they departed for their table. A stiff smile remained on Joy’s face, though she stepped away from the touch of his hand at her back on the way out, and she remained quiet during the drive home.
Logan said goodnight to Al and June, then headed for his truck.
<
br /> “You’re leaving?”
He swung around to find Joy a few steps behind him. A quick glance confirmed her grandparents were inside already, so he locked his gaze back on her. He wasn’t sure if she was asking about right now, or in response to his earlier packing comment. Either way, his reply covered both. “Is there a reason to stay?”
“Grandpa’s got Gram tonight, so I thought maybe we could take a walk.”
Just right now.
“Or go to your place for a little while,” she added.
“Oh, so now I’m good enough for you.”
“What?” She asked the question as if surprised by his words, yet her gaze flicked away from his.
Guilty.
“You heard me. Back at the restaurant you didn’t seem to want anything much to do with me once your friends showed up. Now you’re all raring to go for a ride.”
Color stained her cheeks at his use of the word ride. “I’m not raring to do anything with you now.”
He cast a glance toward the road. “Why? Who’s watching?”
Her chin jutted out. “Shut up. And you might want to watch the tone you take. Far as I know, they’re your friends, too.”
“They are. So why is it you’ve got a problem letting them know there’s something between us?”
“I told you why.”
“Right. So they don’t get all weird about it. Well, I got news for you. They’re more weird about us pretending than if they knew the truth. You think they all just accept this fake engagement thing, but they’re still watching, wondering if there’s more going on as we play the act for all the other people in town who think it’s real. Do you see how messed up this is?”
She took a deep breath, then met his gaze head on. “You’re right. But, what exactly is the truth, Logan? What am I supposed to say to our friends? I mean, we said we’d give this thing a shot, but you haven’t said one word about what your plans are. Then you mention packing in front of everyone, and I don’t know if you’re staying here in Redemption, or going back to Minnesota after the sale. Then again, you don’t seem to be doing a damn thing to keep your farm, so maybe that’s my answer right there.”
Say You'll Marry Me (Welcome to Redemption #10) Page 14