Logan's Luck (Last Chance Book 4)

by Lexi Post

  Mr. Erickson lived in a small development with equally small houses. Butterball had probably never even seen a horse. She opened the back and hooked the leash on him as he wagged his tail. “Okay, come on.”

  As they approached the barn, she listened intently. Not hearing any voices, she brought Butterball near Black Jack’s outdoor stall. Butterball immediately barked.

  “Shh, we don’t need everyone to know we’re here.”

  The dog sat on his haunches and stared at Black Jack. Luckily, the horse decided to investigate the barker.

  She held on tight to the leash in case Butterball misbehaved or Black Jack decided to show his teeth.

  “Don’t worry. Black Jack likes dogs.”

  Damn, she knew that low voice. She snapped her head around to find Logan leaning against the entrance to the barn, his long, jean-clad legs crossed at the ankle, his black cowboy boots covered in dust, and his enigmatic hazel eyes studying her. “That’s good. I don’t think Butterball has ever met a horse before.”

  His brow raised. “Butterball?”

  “I didn’t name him.” She turned back to the dog in question to make sure he was behaving, but it was clear she needn’t worry. He’d jumped his front paws on to the steel rail and played noses with Black Jack.

  She returned her gaze to Logan. “You know anyone who would like a well-trained English Bulldog?”

  This time Logan frowned. “You’re giving your dog away?”

  “I’m not sure he qualifies as my dog. I just inherited him this afternoon.” She pulled on Butterball’s leash, but he fought her.

  “You can tie him up right there.” Logan’s voice came from way too close and she stepped back. He had come up behind her without a sound.

  She turned her back and tied Butterball to the post. Then she picked up her bag and strode past the one person she’d hoped she wouldn’t see. The barn lights were on and she found the Clydesdale in the very first stall. Her heart lurched at the sight.

  He had once been a beautiful horse, but now he had burn scars over his back and down one side. “You poor baby.”

  Logan followed her. “This is Cyclone. He was in a barn fire and the woman inside the house is the one who threw a blanket on him and saved him from burning to death.”

  Her breath caught at the courage that had to have taken, but she tensed as well at the admiration in Logan’s voice. What did she care if there was yet another woman he liked. “He was a lucky horse.”

  “If you want the full story, Dana is inside with Bo. They’re friends of Cole’s from Dallas.”

  Her tension eased but she mentally kicked herself for being jealous when her whole point in sneaking out to the barn was to avoid any kind of conversation with Logan. She was so messed up around him.

  “Excuse me.” She looked at him to make him move his arm which blocked her access to the stall.

  “Wait. You need to know that Cyclone has a habit of kicking.”

  Was that why he was out in the barn? Waiting for her so he could warn her? She tapped down her gratefulness and pulled out the tools of her trade. “Does he kick at any particular time or for a particular reason?”

  Logan shook his head. “None that Dana could tell. I thought you might want to ask Whisper if she could figure it out.”

  She frowned. “Why don’t you ask Trace to ask her? He sees a lot more of her than I do.” Fudge. That came out wrong.

  Logan’s lip quirked. “I hope so, but I’m not sure she takes Trace’s requests as priority.”

  He needed to not smile. She couldn’t resist his smile. “Okay, I will, and you can consider me duly warned. Now, I need to do my job.”

  His almost-smile disappeared as he opened the stall door for her.

  “Other than kicking and his scars, is there anything else I should know about this horse?”

  Logan shrugged. “His paperwork is in the house. It has all his vaccines listed on it, so you should probably look at it before prescribing anything.”

  In other words, instead of sneaking into the barn, she should have knocked on the door and looked at everything first. Busted. “I’ll do that.”

  Slipping into the stall, she introduced herself to Cyclone. She’d never checked over a Clydesdale before as there weren’t any in the area, but she did brush up on them before coming to the ranch. Cole had started a habit of letting her know what he could about every horse before she came to examine it.

  “Hey, Cyclone. You’re a sweet boy.” The horse stepped toward her and pushed her hand with his nose. “I don’t have any treats for you boy, though I‘m sure you deserve them.”

  She patted the horse’s neck and looked over his scars. They were healing well, a light pink in color that would probably fade to a grayish-white color eventually. No hair would ever grow back there, which meant he may need a light, soft blanket this winter. Luckily, Clydesdales were usually good in the cold. Whatever vet took care of Cyclone must have had a strong stomach. Even now, with the scars doing well, she had to move to his other side for a break from the sight.

  Crouching down near his front legs, she kept well away from a front kick and inspected the feathering around his feet. Keeping that clean was a tough chore and one Cole may not have fully realized. She inspected for signs of “the itch” that the breed was known for contracting.

  She continued around the horse before returning to his head to inspect his teeth. Clydesdales were known for being docile animals, but even so, she had to swallow hard as she examined his mouth. He was the largest and tallest horse she’d ever worked with. She patted him on the neck again. “You are one healthy horse, Cyclone, and we’re going to keep you that way.”

  She carefully stepped around him and exited the stall.

  “So?”

  Logan spoke from above her as she crouched down to put her stethoscope back in her bag. “So, he’s very healthy except for the burns, but they are healing well. Whoever treated him, did everything right. His feet look good, but that feathering needs to be kept free of mud which is high maintenance. He has no signs of the itch, which is good and his heart is strong. I’ll have to check his chart to see where he is with vaccinations and any past issues.”

  When she stood again, Logan stepped closer. “Why didn’t you go to the house first?”

  She could lie, but what good would that do? “I was hoping to avoid you.”

  He looked over her head and sighed. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

  “I guess you don’t always get what you want then.”

  Logan barked a cynical laugh before meeting her gaze. “If I got what I wanted, I’d still own Ragged Peaks ranch and my dad would be riding the fence line with me instead of being six feet under.” He turned away from her and took a step toward the barn entrance.

  She’d struck a nerve she didn’t know was there and she would have to be a piece of quartz to not be effected by his reaction. She grabbed his arm to stop him. “I’m sorry. I thought you sold your ranch because you wanted to. I didn’t know about your dad.”

  He halted when she touched him and didn’t move as if frozen in his own anger and sorrow. Defeat emanated off him in waves.

  She wanted to take away his pain, but self-preservation kept her silent.

  Finally, he looked at her over his shoulder. “My dad…my dad and I were best friends. Then he had a stroke and…When I buried him, I…” He swallowed. “I sold the ranch to pay off the debts, moved mom into a place in town with what was left and came here with Charlotte.”

  At the mention of his daughter, the sharp angles in his face softened a hair. Maybe no one else would notice that, but she did. “I think you made the right decision. This is a beautiful place to raise a child.”

  He turned to face her, dislodging her hand from his arm. “It is. It’s my last chance to get it right.”

  The self-loathing in his voice pulled at her heart. It was said misery loved company, so she gave him a half-hearted smile. “You should see the famil
y homestead I’m living in. It hasn’t been repaired in twenty years. What’s left of the barn wouldn’t keep the weather out if I could afford the time or cost to have animals, and my school and veterinarian practice debts are keeping me from doing anything about it. I’d say between the two of us, you’ve made better decisions than I have.”

  He shook his head. “No, I‘ve had a string of bad luck followed by bad decisions.” His gaze grew intense, appearing dark gray in the light of the barn. “One of those bad decisions was never calling you back after our night together.”

  Her breath caught in her chest and circled around her heart, squeezing it hard. “Why didn’t you?”

  He didn’t look away. “I knew if I did I would kill whatever it was we had. That one day and night was perfect and for the first time since my dad died, I was happy.” He cracked all the knuckles at once on his right hand by squeezing his fist in his left one. “But the following day my mother and I went to the bank to take out a loan. Cattle prices had fallen and we couldn’t pay everyone. The bank wouldn’t give us one.”

  His gaze moved past her to another time. “We decided to sell. My luck was running true to form and we only had one offer. We had to take it. Suddenly, I was a father and homeless. I couldn’t call you. I preferred you think you were another one-night-stand to me and know that with me there was no future.”

  She wanted to yell at him that he was an idiot, she could have helped somehow, but deep down, she recognized it for what it was, her own wish to be with him. “Then you moved here and found out I was the vet.”

  His lips quirked up on one side. “Yeah. More bad luck. You could see for yourself I was a failure and with a kid, no less.”

  Her own hurt melted at his confession. In his ridiculous alpha male thinking, there was no other way to handle seeing her again except to argue with her. “Did you ever think that maybe you needed to look at your situation from another angle?”

  He lowered his brow. “What other way is there to look at it? Those are the facts.”

  “Yes, but the fact that Charlotte was dropped on your doorstep should be looked at as one of the luckiest days of your life. She is the center of your world and without her, you’d probably be a hand on someone else’s ranch instead of here, living with family and helping a good cause.”

  He took a step closer, his height dwarfing her, but she wasn’t intimidated. In fact, her pulse sped at the look in his eyes. “In your version of things, I should be happy that you came back into my life, so I could do what I wanted to do last year.”

  Her heart skipped as he lowered his head. “What was that?”

  “Keep you.” His words came out in a whisper just before his mouth lowered and he gave her a sweet kiss. One filled with tenderness, not passion.

  She raised her hands to his chest, her defenses going up even as her heart softened.

  He raised his head, gazing into her eyes. “Jenna.”

  “What are you saying Logan?”

  “You already know I’m no good with words. I’m better with action, doing, feeling. I want you in my life again.”

  She clamped her jaw down hard to keep from yelling “yes.” What was she thinking? “Okay, so what does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Can we just take it a day at a time?”

  Disappointment rifled through her, which was stupid. What did she expect, a marriage proposal? She obviously didn’t think very well around him. She stepped back, out of his arms to put a little space between them, even if it was just physical space. “Okay, I think I can live with that for now.”

  Logan smiled, showing his white teeth which contrasted sharply against the dark stubble around his lips. As he stepped toward her again, she grabbed up her bag from the floor and headed for the exit.

  “Wait.” Logan blocked her way. “Where are you going?”

  She frowned at him, anything to keep away the physical need that built inside her. “I’m going home. It’s late.” She pointed to Butterball who had laid down next to the fence and fallen asleep. “I have to feed him and myself.”

  Instead of building space between them, her words seemed to challenge him. He stepped closer, or rather stalked closer because as she backed up, he followed until her back was against the empty stall across from Cyclone.

  “Logan.” She used her best authoritative tone on him, but it didn’t work.

  He put a hand on either side of her, trapping her against the wall. “Stay.”

  She swallowed at the desire in his eyes. “I—”

  His mouth came down on hers and this time there was nothing sweet about it. Though he didn’t touch her anywhere else, his tongue held her in place as he tasted her fully.

  She dropped her bag and grabbed a hold of his shirt as weakness filled her, excitement building in her abdomen. When his kiss moved from her mouth to the side of her neck, she felt herself caving. Then what? “Logan, stop.”

  His lips froze just beneath her ear. He remained there a few seconds before pulling back to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

  She licked her lips as she tried to find the right words. “I’m no good at this. I can’t make love with you one night and pretend it never happened.”

  He frowned. “That’s not what this is, or what it would be. I haven’t slept with another woman since the night we were together.”

  Her gut tightened as hope rose. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve been faithful to me?” She crinkled her brow in disbelief.

  He smirked. “I guess you could say that.” His smile disappeared. “I admit that before I met you I only slept with women one time. It wasn’t meaningless, but it also wasn’t meaningful. I didn’t want to start a relationship. Before my dad had his first stroke, I spent my days working with him. Afterwards, it was the ranch and him and mom. There was no room in my life for a girlfriend.” He paused.

  As she waited for him to continue, she tried to crush the sweet feeling bubbling up inside her.

  “Then I met you. There was so much about you I liked. You were intelligent, pretty, down-to-earth and you didn’t try to be someone you weren’t with painted nails, dyed hair and clothes that were too tight. You were just you. After that night, I wasn’t attracted to anyone and Charlotte took over any free time I had.”

  So, she made an impression, but it could also be he just didn’t have time…in a whole year? “Let me get this straight. You haven’t had sex with anyone in over a year?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Wow. She hadn’t either, but that was no surprise. That Logan Williams, Mr. Stud, hadn’t, threw her off balance.

  “Let me make love to you. I promise I won’t disappear again.”

  She swallowed. Though one side of her was telling her to run, she was weak, especially in the face of his serious gaze. She gave him half a smile. “Will you promise to call me in the morning?” Though she’d said it to lighten the mood, she held her breath for his answer.

  “I promise.”

  A strange feeling of relief swept through her as if her heart was protected, though that made no sense.

  “Jenna?”

  She gave him a half nod, expecting a triumphant smile, but it didn’t come. Instead, his gaze became more intense and he cupped her face in his hands. “I’ve dreamed of making love to you for months. I remember every inch of you and I cannot wait.”

  Before the desire his need caused could fully settle in her belly, his mouth came down on hers in an almost frantic kiss.

  Her body burst into flame and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself against him as his tongue tangled with her own. He grasped her ass and pushed her up, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. She complied, locking her ankles behind him.

  As his tongue conquered her mouth, she felt her entrance moistening. Her body remembered him and was anxious for fulfillment. She couldn’t help but tighten her legs and squeeze him hard.

  His mouth came away. “Damn, I need you.” Without another word, he walked int
o the empty stall and sat her down on a stack of hay bales. He reached behind him and unlocked her legs, stepping away by ducking out from under her arms.

  Before she could question why, he had pulled his shirt off over his head. Buttons pinged as they tore from the fabric.

  Oh, sweet, delectable, fudge. Logan’s chest looked even more massive in the barn’s brighter lighting, and since there was no sweat or hay particles sticking to it, it was too enticing not to touch.

  As he stepped back to her, she reached her hand out to touch his mounded pectoral, but he grasped her wrist and pulled it around his neck. “Hop on again.”

  Having no choice, she looped her legs around him, the heat of his chest now warming her own. She pressed herself closer, loving the feel of her breasts giving way to his hard chest.

  Logan set her down again, only now his shirt was under her. He unhooked her hands from around his neck. “Too many clothes.” His words came out on a growl and he dropped to one knee. Without a word, he pulled off her boots.

  When he stood, she didn’t hesitate. “I agree.” She yanked on his belt buckle and succeeded on the first try. Her feeling of triumph was short lived as he grasped her hands and pulled them away.

  He let go to work the buttons on her shirt and she let him, anxious to feel his hands on her skin. He spread her shirt and pulled it down her arms to her wrists, before letting it go only to unhook her front-closing bra, his rough knuckles brushing the sides of her breasts.

  Logan didn’t slow down. There was no worshipping this time. No soft kisses as he removed each piece of clothing, and she was thankful. Pushing her bra straps down to where her shirt rested at her wrists, he turned his attention to her breasts.

  “Damn.” Logan’s simple word as he gazed at her hard nipples was her only warning before he held both breasts within his hands, massaging them, making her hotter. He lowered his head and holding one breast up, his mouth closed over her entire areola to suck gently.

  She moaned as she tried to reach for his head, but her hands were still caught up in her clothes. When his teeth found her nipple and rolled it, she gave up trying to touch him and leaned back against the wall, happy to enjoy the pings of need traveling to her core.