__________
From: Logan Prescott
Subject: Misperceived women
Date: Monday, October 8 5:25pm
To: Emilia King
You and Kate do have something in common. You are both very stubborn women. Has anyone ever told you that?
Sweet dreams, baby.
__________
From: Emilia King
Subject: Stubbornness
Date: Monday, October 8 5:28pm
To: Logan Prescott
Only a cocky, spoiled man.
Sweet dreams to you too.
9
I HAVE A HARD TIME concentrating all week. The days and nights drag even though I’m busy with classes and running. I’m reminded of the feeling I would get when I was little with the anticipation of Christmas. The week before Christmas always was the longest week of the year. Finally, Friday arrives and it’s Christmas morning – at least it feels that way.
Well, not exactly the same way. I’m equally excited but I’m also extremely nervous. This isn’t the first time I’ve been alone with Logan but this is more of a date. A date with Logan Prescott –who says he doesn’t date and Bryn says he’s only after one thing. The fact that I’ve never been on a date is also making me feel sick to my stomach. This is the first time in my twenty-one years where I’ve ever been interested in a man. He intrigues me not just because he’s so damn good-looking. He’s also kind, smart and funny. The fact that he’s so familiar with Shakespeare doesn’t hurt either.
Once I shower and dress, I head into the kitchen where Bryn is already enjoying her morning cup of coffee. She looks up from The Wall Street Journal and eyes me speculatively.
“Good morning, Emilia.” She gives me a slight smile.
“TGIF.” I grin. I can tell by the way Bryn is studying me that I’m on the verge of one of her lectures.
“TGIF. You happy it’s Friday for any specific reason?” She teases.
I have my back to her when I open the refrigerator to grab a yogurt. “Hmm. Just glad the week is over.” I smile. I know she’s not buying it.
“You sure about this? I mean I’m all for you going out with someone. I would love for you to have a nice boyfriend but I’m not sure Logan fits the bill.” Bryn says with concern in her eyes.
“I’m sure, Bryn. I’ll be fine.” I guess I do say that quite a bit. “Please stop worrying about me.”
“You promise you’ll text me if you need me to come and rescue you?” She raises her eyebrow.
“You know I will.” I smile. “Ready to head to school?” I ask because I don’t want to talk about my date anymore.
“I know you are changing the subject.” She scolds.
“You are beautiful and smart, Bryn.” I tease.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Bryn grabs her laptop from the kitchen island.
“Okay. Let’s go. But you haven’t heard the last from me about your hot date.”
“I’m sure I haven’t.” I wink at her and smile.
The day goes much faster than I anticipated. When my classes are over I plop on my bed and keep my mind occupied by re-reading one of my favorite books, The Great Gatsby. I have an essay due on it in a week for my American Literature class. Before I know it, it’s six o’clock and I need to shower and dress. After I blow-dry my hair so that it falls softly around my shoulders, I try and pick out something to wear. I’m foolishly staring into my half-empty closet with a white fluffy towel wrapped around me when Bryn walks in the room.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” She teases. “Your hair looks gorgeous but I’m not sure about your white strapless number. Although Logan might prefer it.”
I try and manage a smile. “I didn’t ask what we were doing and he didn’t say so I don’t know what to wear.”
“No worries.” Bryn says reassuringly. She’s got years of experience and could probably write a handbook on dating.
She walks to my closet and grabs my favorite jeans, a black camisole, and a black open-stitch sweater.
“If he didn’t specify – I’m sure jeans will do. Men usually only tell you if it’s something dressy. Otherwise, jeans are always a safe bet.” She smiles.
“Thanks, Bryn.”
Bryn throws herself on my bed and watches me as I slide on my jeans and tug on my camisole and sweater.
“You look hot.” She smiles.
“Hot? Maybe I should change.” But too late, there’s a knock on the door.
I take a deep breath and a quick last look in the mirror. I look at my wide-eyed reflection and give a slight smile to reassure myself. You can do this.
“You look gorgeous, Emilia. Try and have fun but not too much fun.” She winks.
She hugs me. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do.” She warns.
“You know I won’t!” I scold.
“You know I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust.” She says tightly.
I give her a quick peck on the cheek and I’m down the stairs.
When I open the front door I’m first struck by Logan’s slow, sexy smile. He’s wearing faded jeans and a cream-colored sweater. His dark hair is mussed-up in a come-hither way and his blue eyes sparkle when he smiles.
“Hi, beautiful.” He murmurs as he leans down to give me a quick kiss on my cheek.
“Hi, beautiful yourself.” Ugh. Did I really just say that? He’s looking at me with amusement when all I want to do is run back into the house and hide.
“Come.” He takes my hand in his and leads me to his car.
“Where are we going?” I say as he opens the door for me and I slide into the luxurious leather seat.
“You’ll see.” He smirks and shuts the door. You’ll see. Now I’m even more nervous.
He glides around the car and climbs into the driver’s seat. “Relax.” He says probably in response to my mood and he gives my knee a soft squeeze.
“This is a lovely car. What kind is it?” I attempt to make idle conversation.
“It is isn’t it? It’s a Porsche 911 Carrera 4 GTS.” He smiles and starts the ignition.
I can’t help but giggle that he gives such a detailed name to his car. Why couldn’t he have just said Porsche?
“What’s so funny?” He asks as the engine roars.
“Nothing.”
“You already keeping secrets?” He smirks.
But I don’t need to reply, he hits a button on the front dashboard and The Black Keys’ “Lonely Boy” pulsates through the speakers.
Well I’m so above you
And it’s plain to see
But I came to love you anyway
So you tore my heart out
And I don’t mind bleeding
Any old time to keep me waiting
Waiting, waiting
Oh, oh-oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting
Oh, oh-oh, I got a love that keeps me waiting
I’m a lonely boy
I’m a lonely boy
Oh, oh-oh I got a love that keeps me waiting
“You like The Black Keys too?” I ask as the car smoothly sweeps onto the Garden Street ramp and we’re soon on US-101 heading south.
“I’m impressed.” He grins. “Most girls are all about Adele. You like the Neon Trees, Mumford and Sons, and the Black Keys. Any other favorites?” He’s got a good memory.
“Florence and the Machine, Snow Patrol, Graffiti 6, I love music – almost as much as I love reading and running. How about you?” I ask.
“They’re all good. Kings of Leon, The Killers, and Keane are some of my favorites. I can really listen to anything. It just depends on how I’m feeling.” He says as if he’s deep in thought.
“You still not telling me where we’re going? I don’t really like surprises.”
“We’re going to my parent’s house in Montecito.” He turns and quickly looks to see my reaction.
“Oh. Will your parents be there?”
“No. Just you and me, baby.” He says with a mischievous g
rin. “I’m going to cook you dinner.”
“Really? What are you cooking?” I glance at him.
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Oh. Another surprise – that one I think I can handle.”
We drive in silence the rest of the way. I lean my head back on the soft leather seat and gaze out the window at the spectacular coastline. The drive from Santa Barbara to Montecito is only about an eleven-minute drive. Logan eases the car onto San Ysidro Road and I know we will soon be there. We make our way up a long and winding driveway that leads to a magnificent French Country estate.
The home has beautiful stone towers and turrets that evoke the style of a French chateau. There are large windows set in dormers with climbing vines of wisteria and star jasmine. And, the lush landscaping that surrounds the house is a colorful array of roses, lavender, and abundant lemon trees.
“We’re here.” Logan glimpses and gives me that soft, sexy smile.
“It’s stunning. Do your parents come here often?”
“No. My dad spends most of his time in New York and Dubai while my mom prefers Europe.” I can’t help but notice a slight frown.
“They don’t usually travel together?” I ask.
“No.” He murmurs and quickly adds, “You hungry?” I know the subject is closed.
“A bit.” I smile as he gently turns the car around the circular drive to the impressive garage that probably holds at least a dozen cars.
I’m still lost in thought when Logan opens the car door for me. I smile up at him as he takes my hand in his but I can’t help but sense that he has an underlying loneliness for his parents.
“You ready to be wined and dined, Miss King?”
“And entertained.” I tease.
“Certainly, I should be saying that to you.” He says and his lips quirk up in a soft smile.
Logan is still holding my hand as we make our way into the house. He taps a code on the alarm system and then pushes the door open. The great room is spacious with lovely distressed walnut floors and an enormous limestone fireplace. But what really catches my eye is the stunning panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean and the coast. The floor-to-ceiling windows give the immense home a comfortably, bright, and airy warmth.
I make my way towards the beautiful arched windows and French doors. The glass doors are framed by billowy, cloudlike drapes. There is very little wall space allowing the central focus to be on the view. I can feel his eyes on me as I admire the spectacular scenery.
“It’s breathtaking.” I whisper. My heart is pounding. This home is grandiose, awe-inspiring and once again I relapse into that out of my league feeling.
“You’re breathtaking.” Logan whispers in my ear as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. His words make my legs feel like jelly and as he pulls me towards him, he leans down and brushes my lips with a soft kiss.
“Come.” He says as he takes my hand and leads me through the main living area. The furnishings and finishes are simple with pale beige and blue linen slipcovered couches and chairs. The wood floors have cotton and wool area rugs scattered throughout. There are beautiful vaulted ceilings with open beams. In the very little wall space are watercolor paintings of various landscapes. The overall effect creates a union of sand, sea and sky.
The large gourmet kitchen opens to a family room. There’s a large island with a state-of-the art range at the center and six walnut colored barstools surrounding it. The cabinets and drawers are a creamy, distressed wood with bronze knobs and handles. The Subzero refrigerator is enormous and is covered with the same distressed wood as the cabinets. There are two sinks, two dishwashers, and two wall double ovens.
Logan leads me to one of the barstools and pulls one out for me to sit. “Would you like a glass of chardonnay?” He asks as he makes his way to a built-in wine cooler.
“Sounds great. Thank you.” I murmur.
He hands me a glass and says, “Here’s to an entertaining evening.” We clink glasses and I take a sip. The wine is creamy, buttery and tastes delicious.
In a moment, he is at the refrigerator pulling out various ingredients and small packages wrapped in white paper. “I hope you like seafood.”
“I love it.” I give him a shy smile.
“You aren’t allergic to shellfish? I don’t want to end up in the emergency room with you again.” He teases.
“Not that I’m aware of. Can I help you with anything?
“Would you like to chop?”
“Sure.” I say as I stand from the stool and make my way next to him. He places a cutting board on the granite counter and then hands me a red bell pepper and shallots.
He moves toward another set of buttons and knobs on the wall and says, “How about some music while we work?”
Matt Nathanson’s “Run” pulsates through the surround sound system. I wonder if it’s a deliberate song selection. It’s a beautiful love song with strong sexual emotion.
I wanna watch you undress
I wanna watch you glow
Let your hair down
All around, cover us both
You come in a wave
We crash and we roll
You surround me, pull me, drown me, swallow me whole
You turn, turn, turn, turning me on
Like a slow fire burn
Know that it’s wrong
Still I run, run, run, run right into you
Yeah, I run, run, run, run right into you
You pull me in close
You buckle my knees
I shake and shiver just to feel you breathe
You trace my lines
Stirring my soul
Shoot sparks at the heart of the world and I watch it
explode (I watch you, I watch you)
You turn, turn, turn, turning me on
Like a slow fire burn
Know that it’s wrong
Still I run, run, run, run, right into you
Yeah, I run, run, run, run right into you
I’m amazing when you’re beside me
I am so much more
And I feel your fingers
Pound like thunder
I am so much more
So much more
Turn, turn, turning me on
Like a slow fire burn
Know that it’s wrong
Still I run, run, run, right into you
Yeah, I run, run, run, run right into you
Turning me on
Like a slow fire burn
We are quietly chopping next to each other while I feel my face redden as I listen to the sexy lyrics.
“Interesting song choice.” I mutter.
“I just happen to like Matt Nathanson.” He slightly smirks. “Would you prefer I put something else on?”
“No. It’s a lovely song.” I say dryly. “Do you do this to impress all the ladies?” I tease.
“Am I impressing you?” He smiles.
“A bit. You avoiding my question?”
“Impress the ladies with what exactly?” He asks as he places some chopped bacon and garlic on a plate.
“All of this.” I say as I wave my hand in a circular motion above my head. “The house, the wine, the music, your cooking – um I think that’s everything.” I slide the diced peppers and shallots onto two other dishes.
“No.” He turns and heats oil in a large skillet.
“No? That’s it?” I tease.
“Honestly?” He adds the bacon to the skillet.
“Yes.”
“I’ve never had to pursue a woman.” He says in a matter of fact tone while he transfers the bacon to a plate and then starts to sauté the pepper, shallots, and garlic.
“So you’re pursuing me?” I say softly as I sip my wine.
“You’re the first girl I’ve brought here and the first girl I’ve cooked for, so yes, I would say I’m pursuing you, Miss King.” He moves tantalizing close to me. His eyes are locked on mine as he runs his thumb slowly acro
ss my lower lip and softly brushes my hair off my shoulder.
“Oh.” I breathe.
“Why don’t you have a seat so I can get the rest of the food ready? You are too much of a distraction.”
It doesn’t take long for Logan to finish preparing the meal. He moves around the kitchen with such grace and ease it’s truly a wonder to behold.
“I thought we could just sit at the island and eat unless you’d rather go in the dining room.” He says as he pours me another glass of wine.
“That’s fine.”
He quickly puts two cotton green placemats down and silverware. The heavenly aromas waft through the kitchen as he puts down a shallow bowl with a white fish in front of me. He then places a plate of a dozen clams between us.
He slides onto the stool next to me. “Clams Casino and Halibut in Artichoke and Tomato Broth.”
“It looks amazing, Logan.” I smile.
“Would you like any water or are you okay with just wine?
“Wine is good.” I take a bite of the halibut. “Did you learn to cook from your mom?” I ask.
He purses his lips and seems lost in thought. “No. My mother doesn’t really cook.” He pauses for another moment and then relaxes. “I taught myself. I spent a lot of time in hotel kitchens when I was kid.”
He takes a clam and then slides it out of the shell on his fork. “Try one.” He says as he holds the bite in front of me.
I lean forward and bite it. He stares at me while, I chew and swallow. The clam tastes of the sea with a chewy texture, but it’s the shallots, garlic, parmesan cheese and the smoky bacon flavor that makes it divine.
“It’s delicious, Logan.” I smile.
We eat the rest of the dinner in silence. Matt Nathanson’s soothing voice plays on in the background. His blend of folk and rock and the sumptuous meal create a delicious harmony.
I glance at Logan. He’s put his fork down and is watching me. I can’t possibly eat another bite and my stomach is fully satisfied.
“I think it’s only fair that I clean the dishes since you cooked.” I smile.
Running from Romeo Page 9