by James, Avery
She needed to figure out the best course of action. Short of hopping on a plane and writing off any future business from the Harris family, she didn’t see anything she could do. The way things were going, she doubted that she’d be able to salvage anything from this mess. Amy and everyone else back in DC would be livid when they found out how Callie had let her personal attraction to Logan get in the way of her job.
She was angry at herself too. Helping to pass this bill was supposed to be one of the good assignments, one of the few that she could be proud of. She had let herself lose track of that because Logan looked good with his shirt off.
But there was so much more to him than that, and the thing that worried Callie the most, more than the threat of personal and professional humiliation was the idea of losing Logan. He was smart and funny, and, when she was with him, she felt alive in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Somehow she had jeopardized all of that because she was too much of a coward to tell him the truth from the beginning. “Logan, I was sent here to keep an eye on you, but the truth is, I fell for you.” It wouldn’t have been hard to say at any point. She could have prevented all of this if she had just been honest with him.
Callie stopped pacing and leaned over the kitchen counter. She had a dull pain in her gut and a sharp pain in her head. She had been such an idiot, and he had every right to be mad at her. It didn’t matter if she was angry because he had left with Veronica. Callie had lied to, or at least misled him for the entire time she had been in Newport. So that was it. She had to make things right. She texted him back, “See you at 7.”
She swallowed hard and headed to the bedroom to get dressed. She knew she must have at least some clothing that Veronica hadn’t touched. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a cotton tee. She didn’t want to dress up. She didn’t want to feel glamorous. She just wanted to get this over with and explain everything to Logan. One way or another, she was going to make things right.
She got in her rental car and drove the short distance from Hank’s house to Thames Street. The paparazzi must have gotten word that Veronica had left, because Callie didn’t see anyone at the driveway gate. Veronica had probably tipped them off herself. Callie didn’t even see another person until after she had parked the car a few blocks away from the wharf. She had been glad to be alone as she tried to think of what to say. The rain had lifted, and the sun had started to filter through the clouds. There was barely any breeze, and the warm sun felt good on her face, but she couldn’t help the pit of despair she felt in her stomach.
Halfway down the wharf, before reaching The Independent, she stopped and leaned against a building. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the right words to tell Logan what he meant to her. She tried to think of how to explain the warmth and security she felt whenever she was with him. Before she opened her eyes, she felt a familiar tap on the shoulder. She had barely known Logan for a few weeks, and yet she’d recognize that touch anywhere.
Logan stepped back and looked at her. “You look terrible,” he said.
“Gee, thanks,” Callie said.
“Come with me,” Logan said, holding out his hand. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“I need to tell you something too,” Callie said.
“It can wait.”
“I don’t think it can,” Callie protested. “I need to tell you this before we go anywhere.”
Logan looked around at the people on the street. He looked like he was wondering if Callie was going to make a scene.
“When I came here, I was told to do two things. The first was to keep you out of trouble, and the second was not to fall for you. I’ve failed at both.”
“You haven’t,” Logan said. He stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around Callie’s hand. “Come on, let’s talk somewhere more private.” He led her down to the dock that stretched out into the harbor behind his restaurant, leading her down the long, wide pier until he reached the end, and then he turned Callie toward a small row boat in the last slip.
“Is this another one of your toys?” Callie asked. “It’s very pretty, but I really think we should talk.”
“I do too, and I think we’re trying to say the same thing. Will you get in with me?”
“I don’t know if I’m in the mood to head out to the yacht tonight.”
“We’re not going to the yacht.”
“Where are we going?” Callie asked.
“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said.
Callie shot him a glance as if to ask “why wouldn’t I trust you?” Only after did she realize how strange it was for her to trust Logan so completely after so little time together. Yet, if he said he wanted to bring her somewhere in a tiny rowboat, she would let him.
Logan walked over to the small boat and motioned to Callie. He held her hand as she lowered herself in. “Put on your life vest,” he said. “I’m not taking any chances.” Logan stepped into the boat and untied it from the dock. He leaned against the edge of the pier and pushed the tiny craft out into the harbor.
Callie leaned back and watched Logan grab the oars and begin to row. As he pushed farther across the harbor, the sounds of the restaurants and shops along the shore began to recede, running together in one low hum, which became barely more than a whisper in the distance. As he rowed on, the wind began to pick up, and Callie listened to the rhythm of Logan’s strokes and the waves lapping against the hull. In the distance, Callie could hear the sailboats in the distance, their halyards and pulleys clanking against their masts in the evening breeze, but soon that too faded away, until all that was left was the boat beneath them and the open water.
It never occurred to Callie to feel afraid. Normally, she would have balked at the idea of taking such a small boat into open water, but Logan exuded a quiet calm, and she knew she was safe with him. Logan stayed quiet as he rowed, flexing his whole body with each stroke of the oars. The way he pulled the boat across the water seemed effortless, like it was an extension of his body. He breathed in time with his strokes and the crashing of the swells against the hull.
Darkness had started to fall. Behind her, Callie could see the lights of the Newport Bridge and the fort out on the point. Logan kept rowing, farther and farther out.
As the land receded farther into the distance, and the sun dipped below the horizon, Callie finally cleared her throat and spoke. “Logan, why are we out here.”
“I need to explain something to you about myself,” he said. He stopped rowing and let the boat glide forward. As it slowed, it gently rocked back and forth in the water.
“Is there a reason why we had to come out in this boat for you to do it?” she asked.
“This boat saved my life,” he said.
“What do you mean? Like you were drowning and someone in this boat plucked you out of the water?” This was all a bit confusing.
“In a figurative sense, yeah. In a literal sense, no. I built it. A few weeks ago, right after you had gotten here, you asked me why I am the way I am. I didn’t answer you, but I’ve been trying to figure out a way to explain things to you. My mother died when I was in college. It was late spring. I hadn’t thought much of her being sick. She had been sick on and off for years, and when her health went downhill, I didn’t come back home until it was almost too late. I flew back to Wyoming from Boston, and I spent a week by her side. That’s what I was thinking of as I rowed out here. I was thinking about the last time I saw her. I wanted to stay with her until she got better, but she insisted that I go back to school and finish the semester.
She knew me better than anyone, knew that I would get in trouble if I didn’t have something to occupy my time, knew that I was best when I had a concrete task before me, something tangible, so she arranged an internship here for me over the summer. She loved the ocean, you know. She loved this town and the big house on the water. The internship was with a boat builder. She thought it would do me good. Anyway, that last day, the last time I saw her, I made her promise me that she’d s
tick around long enough for me to finish this boat and bring her for one last trip around the harbor.
“Logan,” Callie said, leaning forward and placing her hand over his, “I had no idea.”
“She died a week later,” he said.
Callie could hear his voice break as he finished the sentence. In the half dark, she thought she could see tears on his cheeks. She took a long slow breath and tried to keep from crying too. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he replied. “I wanted to tell you. I wanted to share this with you. The week after her funeral, I flew back to Newport and started the internship. Within a few days, the builder knew why I was there. I worked twelve hours a day, cutting and scraping and molding the wood, working and reworking every last detail. I channeled all of my frustration and anger into this boat, all of my heartache. I had been a terrible son. I had done so many things wrong, but I swore I would do everything I could to do this right. No detail was too small. No imperfection could stay. I must have redone the finish a dozen times before it came out right.
“I vowed not to stop until perfect, and then one day, it was. Every inch was complete, and I wasn’t angry anymore. I was still sad, but I felt like she was there with me, telling me it was time to let go. When everything had set and cured, it was mid fall. That afternoon, I had driven down from Cambridge, and it was raining a fine, cold mist when I put the boat in the water. I rowed out, into the dusk. I put my head down, and I rowed and rowed and rowed until I rounded the point and reached the open ocean. I rowed until my hands were raw and my lungs felt like they were on fire. I rowed until the land in the distance faded away to small pinpoints of light on the horizon, and then I stopped. Out there in the ocean, the clouds had lifted away, and the night sky was the clearest I had ever seen. I knew she was there with me, watching over me. Then the wind picked back up and I knew she was gone.
“Why am I the way I am? Why haven’t I found a nice girl and settled down? What will happen if I fall in love? What if I fall completely for someone, and I lose her? I don’t think another boat will save me.”
Callie leaned forward and kissed Logan, pulling her body tight against his. She could taste the salt on his lips, and she could feel his heart thumping in his chest. The warmth of his kiss rolled through her, and she relaxed herself against him as he wrapped his arms around her. She hadn’t expected this from him. Every time Logan was sweet and genuine instead of cocky and smooth, it threw Callie for a loop, but nothing would have prepared her for what he said next.
“Stay.”
“What?” Callie asked.
“Promise me you’ll stay. Here with me, somewhere else with me, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “Just promise me you’ll stick by me.”
Callie didn’t know what to make of his request. Only a few hours earlier, he had stormed off in a cloud of anger and betrayal, and now he wanted her to stay? “What was that you said earlier about promises?”
“I’m serious. Would you stay for me?” he asked. He leaned towards her and kept his eyes locked on hers.
“If you’re serious?” she replied. “If you’re really willing to be honest with me?” That look of desperation was just too much. It told her more than any words could. Deep inside he needed her. She knew it, and in her own way, she needed him, too. I think I’d do just about anything for you.”
Callie watched the darkness lift from Logan’s eyes, replaced by that mischievous gleam she knew so well. “Anything except sleep with me.”
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep me up all night again,” she said with a laugh. And just like that, they had lapsed back into their comfortable back and forth.
“Tell me the truth,” Logan said. “Would that be pity lust?”
“I don’t think that exists,” she said.
“Not for lack of trying.” While Logan’s words were playful as ever, he still looked tired, emotionally worn.
“I thought we were having a moment,” Callie said, “and now you’re just trying to get me in bed again.”
“Oh, it doesn’t have to be in a bed. Pretty much any flat surface will do,” he said.
Callie couldn’t help but laugh.
“I am serious though, and I know I haven’t earned that trust yet, but I will prove it to you. I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Callie.”
“I know,” she said. She looked away from him for a moment and out over the endless sheet of water that spread out before them. “So how do we get out of here?”
Logan looked down at the oars. “Same way we came. We just have to turn around. We’re not really that far out. Half an hour, and we’ll be back in sight of land.”
“Do you want help?” Callie asked.
“Logan smiled. “Yeah, I ‘d like that. Carefully move this way, and you can row with me.”
“What, side by side?”
“No, you’ll have to sit on my lap. Come on, I’ll give you a rowing lesson.
Callie leaned over the bench and positioned herself in front of Logan, sitting down just on the edge of the bench between his legs. She leaned back into him, pressing her back against his chest. She could feel his sweat and his heat. His muscles were hard beneath his shirt. Callie spread he arms along his until she reached the oars. She grabbed the handles and started to row.
Slowly, with Logan guiding her movements, Callie turned the boat around. He moved with her, keeping his palms against the back of her hands. She felt his hot breath against her neck. As she and Logan rowed, tensing their muscles with each stroke, Callie became more and more aware of her body. She fit so perfectly in his arms, and with his slightest touch, every inch of her being felt alive. With Logan against her, she felt powerful, she felt connected with him in a way she could never describe.
The wind picked up as they gained speed, racing faster and faster toward the shore. Little by little, the sounds of land started to filter back through the dense fog that hid the shore from sight, but those sounds were still faint compared to the rhythmic rise and fall of Logan’s breath in her ear. She could hear them though, the waves lapping on the beach, cars and trucks driving somewhere beyond sight. The closer land felt, the harder she rowed. She wanted to get back to shore. She wanted to be the one who brought Logan back. With each heave of the oars, each hard pull, she felt her anger and guilt washing away. Something else was taking its place, something stronger and more urgent. She wanted to turn around and kiss Logan again, but she knew she should wait until they reached solid ground.
When the the hull finally slid onto a short, sandy beach, Logan placed his hand on Callie’s shoulder. His palm was so warm and firm against her skin, and she felt his touch radiate through her body. Then he leaned in and kissed the back of her neck. The warmth and thrill of his lips rolled through her body, and she knew she needed. Him.
Callie stepped out into the shallow water. The cold seawater soaked into her pants up to the knee as she helped pull the boat onto shore. As the waves swelled against the shore, Logan hopped out and pulled the boat up onto the thin strip of sand in front of what looked to be a long, wide lawn. “Where are we?” Callie asked. The fog was thick, and it was raining. She could barely see in front of her.
“Does it matter?” Logan asked. “No one will see us.” He kissed her, and the warmth of his kiss rolled through her body. She pressed her tongue against his and felt a rush of desire rise up from deep within her core. This was different than before, more tender, more intimate. Callie didn’t just want this; she needed it. She ached to feel him seal his body against hers.
Together, they stepped onto the shore, and their motions melted blurred together in Callie’s mind as Logan wrapped his arms around her. Together, they tumbled down into the grass and the mud. He kissed her again. She felt his desire and excitement growing stronger as he slid his lips against her skin. She needed to get his clothes off.
She reached for his collar and pulled hard, ripping off the two top buttons of his shirt. The sound of the thread
s giving out thrilled her, and she fumbled with the remaining buttons before he pulled the shirt off completely. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and as she placed her hand on his chest, she felt his heart beating hard and fast. Callie ran her hands over his muscles and traced her fingers over his ribs as she reached down for his hips.
Logan pivoted and leaned over her, pressing himself against her as he kissed her passionately, working his tongue against hers, biting her bottom lip before kissing her neck and sending new waves of warmth through her body. He reached down and pulled Callie’s jeans down her thighs, his strong fingers pressed firmly against her soft skin. She trembled in anticipation and fumbled with his belt before finally pulling him free. Logan lowered himself into position. She felt his muscular thighs against hers, and she felt the heat of his erection as he pressed himself against her.
She was delirious with anticipation, and wanted nothing more than to feel that fullness, that connection. She pulled her shirt off over her head, and he brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her again. He whispered, “I need you,” before pressing his lips to hers. Callie let out a little whisper of delight as she felt the warmth of his kiss. Then Logan reached down and spread her thighs apart as he pushed himself inside her. Callie moaned as Logan sank into her core, filling her with overwhelming pleasure.
She wrapped her legs around him and rocked back and forth with the force of his thrusts. Logan kissed her cheek as he sped the tempo, racing his body against hers. Again and again, she listened to his breath rise and fall, gaining momentum as she tried to keep pace with him. Sweat broke out across her body, and the heat deep in her core began to spread through her body, thrumming inside her, echoing through every inch of her body.
Callie slid her hands up and down over the tense muscles of Logan’s back and shoulders, finally digging her fingers into his back and bracing herself against him as the pleasure grew even more intense. She raked her nails against his skin as she felt orgasm start to rise up inside her. She kissed his neck and moaned against his chest, closing her eyes and focusing on the intense bliss rolling through her. She was so close. She tensed herself and rocked her hips against his faster, sliding one hand over his hip to pull him harder against herself and running the other through his hair to pull him in for one last kiss.