by Louise Bay
“No, I don’t worry my sister’s not sleeping with enough men, funnily enough,” Ryder bellowed from behind us. “She’s perfectly happy here at Woolton.”
Ryder was right, of course. I was happy at Woolton, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want a future with a man I loved and a family of my own, but that wasn’t who Logan was.
What we had was convenient. And uncomplicated.
“What do you want for dinner?” I asked. Shit, Cook would insist on doing something special when she heard Logan would be joining us.
“What’s this Logan like, Ryder? Is he suitable for Darcy?”
Ryder slumped into one of the buttoned-leather chairs, keeping a watchful eye over the children playing happily with their newfound treasures. “I don’t know him well. He’s a tough opponent in business, but I’ve not heard that he’s underhanded or into anything suspicious.”
“Of course, he’s not,” I scoffed. “He’s not like that.” I turned to Scarlett to see her wide grin.
“You like him,” she said.
“I’m saying he’s not a dirty dealer.”
“But you like him.”
I shrugged. “Sometimes,” I replied. “I don’t like the fact that he still might be developing Badsley.” I’d given him several alternative options to Badsley and he’d seemed enthusiastic about the Planton site, but until the appeal, there was nothing more I could do but enjoy our time together.
And Scarlett was right. I did like Logan, at least when we didn’t talk about his business in the village. When things were just personal, I could put it out of my mind and concentrate on the way he made me feel.
“Wait,” Ryder said. “When we ran into him at dinner the night before I left for Beijing, were you dating him then?”
“No! And we’re not dating now.”
“So it’s just sex?” Scarlett asked as Ryder groaned. “Do you think it will turn into anything more?”
“Look, Scarlett,” I said, gathering up some courage. “I used to like you up until ten minutes ago, when you invited someone you’d never met before to dinner and started interrogating me like I was on Interpol’s most-wanted list. We’re friends. We’re hanging out. Yes, I like him—I don’t hang out with people I don’t like now that Frederick and Victoria spend most of their time in France. So can we leave the overanalyzing for now and just enjoy our day?”
She pressed her lips together, clearly holding back what she really wanted to say, and nodded. “Yes, of course. I got overexcited. You know how I am. I’m American and just can’t help myself sometimes.”
I rolled my eyes but grinned. “Come on. Cook said we could make apple pie in her kitchen with the children, but we need to pick the apples from the orchard.”
“And afterward we can pick something for you to wear tonight.”
Anxiety roiled in my stomach. Tonight felt like a big deal. Up until now I’d been able to live in the moment and not think about what was happening between Logan and me. But involving my family shifted things, and I wasn’t sure I was ready. I knew Logan wasn’t a man who did committed relationships, and looking at my history, I’d never been serious about anyone. With no experience and such a tumultuous short history, what hope did we have that we’d survive?
Twenty-Eight
Logan
I rarely got nervous, but my stomach churned as I pulled up outside the front of Woolton Hall. I’d never met a woman’s family before, and although I knew Ryder through business, there was no denying it was my personal relationship with Darcy that had led me to accept the invitation to dinner.
I’d worn a light-gray suit with an open collar. It might be Friday night in the country, but a place like Woolton Hall had decades of formality keeping the walls up.
Clearing my throat, I knocked on the huge oak door.
“Good evening, Mr. Steele,” Mrs. MacBee said as she opened the door.
“Good evening.”
“Everyone’s in the library. I’ll show you the way.”
“That’s okay, I can find them,” I said. Although most of my time at Woolton had been spent in Darcy’s bedroom, I did know where to find Darcy’s favorite room in the house.
Laughter pulled me down the corridor and toward dinner with a girl I was sleeping with, a man I’d done business with, and an American I’d only met this morning. Although I’d been clear with Darcy that we didn’t have to explain anything to anyone, I’d spent my day wondering what exactly it was we were doing.
I’d never dated someone exclusively, but looking back over the last few weeks, that was exactly what I’d been doing. And it wasn’t scary or weird. Darcy was fun to be with—warm like sunshine and as honest as the dirt so often smeared across her face. I couldn’t help but smile when I laid eyes on her and I never tired of her clever conversation and devotion to the people in her life.
“Logan,” Darcy said as I stood at the entrance to the library. She lifted up on tiptoes and came over to meet me. She seemed much more relaxed than when I’d left her this morning. “Hey,” she said, smiling up at me.
Sometimes, when I first set eyes on her, my breath left my throat. She had a glow about her that lit up her face and pulled me toward her. She was fucking beautiful and sweet and charming, as well as feisty and an occasional pain in my arse.
“Hey,” I replied, bending to kiss her on the cheek and then handed her the posy of spring flowers I’d picked up at the farm shop.
“Flowers?” She looked as shocked as if I’d brought her a million pounds’ worth of diamonds.
“Well, since your cook is preparing dinner, I thought you deserved flowers.” Darcy knew I thought she was immensely practical and more than capable of handling just about anything life could throw at her, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like to tease her about having a staff.
“We baked the apple pie ourselves, I’ll have you know.” Darcy narrowed her eyes.
“Wow. Careful, you don’t want to split a nail,” I replied.
“Darcy is actually very practical,” Ryder said, defending his sister.
“He’s just kidding,” Darcy said, taking my arm and pulling me over to join them.
The churning in my belly dissolved into warmth as I realized we knew each other a little better than I’d known any woman other than my grandmother. I liked that we had shared experiences and understood each other. I hadn’t realized being so connected with someone could feel so right.
“Ryder’s opened some ridiculously expensive red wine, so we’re all drinking that…unless I can get you something else?” Darcy asked. Scarlett was perched on the old desk by the window and after we shook hands, Ryder retook his seat in one of the buttoned leather chairs.
“Whatever everyone else is drinking is fine with me.”
“So how are you enjoying Woolton Village?” Scarlett asked.
“Very much,” I replied. “I like being able to escape from London more than I thought I would.”
“Such a shame you’re hoping to ruin it with your plans for Manor House Club,” Darcy said, sighing dramatically as she handed me a glass of red wine.
“I actually had some news on that front today.” I took a sip of the dark-red liquid, pretending I wasn’t acutely aware of Darcy’s focused attention.
“Go on,” she said, fixing me with a suspicious stare.
“I signed the paperwork this afternoon for the Planton site this afternoon,” I said.
“Wait, the one I took you to? With Ivy?”
I nodded, as if I didn’t know this would be a huge deal for her.
“You didn’t tell me you’d made an offer. When did that happen?”
I hadn’t said anything because I hadn’t wanted to disappoint her if the deal fell through. But the truth was, developing the Planton site made much more sense than Badsley. “You knew I was interested. I said so when we saw the site together.”
“I didn’t know you put in an offer though. What does that mean for Badsley and your appeal?”
I shrugge
d. “Nothing. I’m going to develop the Planton site.” Darcy’s face broke into a huge grin.
“So you’re not going to be developing Badsley? At all? You’re abandoning the appeal?”
“I instructed my team to withdraw the appeal.”
Darcy looked at me as if she was trying to make sense of what I was saying, then linked her arms around my neck and pressed her lips against mine as if no one was watching.
“You’ve never been so hot to me as you are right now. If Ryder and Scarlett weren’t here and I hadn’t made that apple pie, I’d be climbing you like a tree.”
I chuckled. “You think I’m hot?”
“Always, but right now? You’re white-hot.” She grinned up at me. “I knew I could count on you.”
Count on me? Sirens began to screech in my brain. I hadn’t done this for her. This made sense from a business perspective. “It was the best option financially.” The only person who relied on me was my grandmother. Why did Darcy think she could count on me? Expect things from me?
“Whatever you say,” she replied, squeezing my arm. She clearly didn’t believe me. But I was deadly serious. The last thing I wanted was to encourage Darcy to count on me. I didn’t want the responsibility or the expectation.
Darcy and I had wandered into no-man’s-land, where the rules and boundaries weren’t clear, and I was paying the price. I didn’t want anyone putting their faith in me. It was too risky, too easy to let people down. I worked hard to ensure people in my world had no expectations of me. That way I couldn’t disappoint anyone.
I didn’t want to be a man who broke promises, who left a trail of destruction and unhappiness behind me. That was my father’s legacy, not mine.
The only way I could let people down was if they counted on me. Darcy had apparently done that once. She wouldn’t do it a second time. I would make sure of it.
Although the surroundings were more formal than I was used to for a family meal, dinner with Scarlett, Ryder and Darcy had been relaxed—fun, even. And I’d managed to put her comment about counting on me to the back of my mind. I’d pressed pause. I would decide what to do about that later.
Darcy had a lot of responsibility, which she took very seriously, but the sweet, happy side of her that I got to see more and more often had shone through tonight.
“I’m going to go sort out the pie.” Darcy had insisted on sending all the staff home as soon as our main courses were served.
“You want me to help?” I asked.
“I’ll go,” Scarlett said, setting her napkin on the table and following Darcy out of the dining room.
“So what made you move to the country?” Ryder asked as the girls left.
“My grandmother and Badsley. She grew up in the house and I’ve always wanted to buy it back for her. And I enjoy spending time with her. She’s my only family.”
“And you’re back here a lot?”
“Yeah. At the moment I come back on Thursday night, work from home on Friday and I’m here until Monday morning.”
“The journey’s not too bad, is it? I can normally do it in less than an hour and a half.”
I nodded, but didn’t confess that I used a helicopter. I knew that Darcy had banned her brother from landing one at Woolton and I wasn’t going to start anything up between them.
“And you don’t miss London at the weekends? I always thought you enjoyed the nightlife.”
I couldn’t remember Ryder and I ever having a conversation about anything personal but I had no doubt that my reputation wasn’t one of a committed family man. “I like London and the country,” I said honestly. And I liked Darcy. Seriously liked her. For the first time in my life, I thought about something other than work throughout the day, wondered what Darcy was doing and whether she was as distracted as I was.
But we hadn’t known each other long, and I’d never been in this position before. I had no idea what happened after this. When it was just Darcy and me, I didn’t think about the future because we were there, together in the moment, enjoying ourselves. But now I knew she had been expecting me to drop the plans for Manor House Club—for her. That she was counting on me…I couldn’t just think about the here and now.
“I expect you to look after her. I know she’s feisty and tough, but she’s been through a lot. She’s breakable.”
What did “look after her” mean? I nodded, but didn’t know what to say. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Darcy, but part of my attraction to her was that she didn’t need looking after. “She’s a wonderful woman.”
I didn’t know what would hurt Darcy. I didn’t know how to take someone else into account when living my life. Ryder had told me to take care of her, but how? I had no idea how that translated into my day-to-day actions, or even if I wanted to be that man. If I took care of her, wouldn’t she just rely on me more?
Tonight had meant to be casual and relaxed, but alarm bells kept sounding. First Darcy counting on me and now Ryder expecting me to look after her. Pressure built in my chest and my mind began to flip through possible solutions.
“Pie!” Darcy announced as she and Scarlett burst through the door.
“Excellent—I’ve never tasted your cooking,” I said as Darcy placed the pie between us.
“You haven’t missed anything,” Ryder said.
“It’s better than your cooking, Ryder,” Scarlett said. “You could burn a boiled egg.”
“I have other skills,” Ryder replied. “Like earning enough money so that I don’t have to boil an egg.”
Darcy started to laugh. It was nice to see her enjoying her family. She clearly worshipped Ryder and the fact that I understood why made me like her even more, but it felt as if I were in quicksand, and I was sinking faster and faster. I just needed to put it to the back of my mind, get through tonight and get back to how Darcy and I were together when it was just her and me. If that was even possible.
As she sat down next to me, she placed her hand on my thigh.
“You okay?” Darcy whispered as she handed me my bowl of apple pie.
I nodded. “Sure. Looking forward to this,” I said, glancing down at the pudding. Other than my mother and grandmother, I’d never had a woman cook for me. Not that Darcy had done this just for me. But it felt nice. Caring. Like she was looking after me—but I couldn’t block out the sirens in my head.
I just needed to figure out if I should put out the fire or run for safety.
Twenty-Nine
Darcy
The sky was dark like it was midnight, even though it was hours before and the rain echoed off the windows and roof as if it were trying to find a way in. Woolton Hall always seemed quieter and emptier when Ryder and Scarlett left, compared to how it had been before they arrived. I stood in the doorway, sheltering from the rain, warmed by the half hour of hugs and goodbyes I’d managed to squeeze out. I continued to wave long after the car disappeared down the drive and out of sight.
The sense that something had been missing grew in me as I closed and bolted the door. I hadn’t seen Logan since dinner on Friday night, and although I appreciated that he knew I was spending time with my family, things didn’t feel quite right without him with me.
I missed him. I missed him, and that was a problem, because I’d never missed any man before and I didn’t know what to do with it.
I pulled my phone from my jeans to see if Logan had messaged. I hadn’t heard from him since he left after dinner on Friday, and something seemed off.
There was a distance between us. Perhaps I was creating it. The desire for him was unnerving. I’d always had to make an effort to find time for people I dated, but with Logan, space for him just appeared. I didn’t need to try. Maybe I was holding back. And perhaps I’d created too much space for him.
I shouldn’t read anything into it—we were both busy. Independent. We didn’t owe each other anything. If I wanted to hear from him, I should message him. I brought up our last exchange and began to type different ways of telling him I mi
ssed him, then deleting them. I wandered into the library and collapsed near the unlit fire.
My phone buzzed.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hey,” Logan replied. “Are your family still there?” His voice was like a warm blanket I wanted to sink into.
“They just left. I was thinking about lighting a fire—it’s so dark and miserable out.”
“Sounds nice. You going to toast some marshmallows?”
I laughed. “Maybe. You want to come over and join in the fun?” A knock on the door interrupted my grin. “Hang on, there’s someone at the door and Lane left for the day.”
I sped down the hallway and unbolted the door. Whoever was outside would be getting soaked to the skin.
As I swung the door open I came face to face with Logan. He held up a bag of marshmallows. “I missed you.”
I wasn’t sure if it was relief or excitement that meant I jumped into his arms and tangled my legs around his waist. “I missed you,” I said as I kissed his damp nose.
“Can I come in? It’s pretty wet out here.”
“Yes, but I’m not getting down.”
He chuckled and carried me through the doorway, closing it behind him.
It was so good to be in his arms, to feel his warmth and breathe in the clean, fresh smell of him. Maybe a little too good, but right then I didn’t care. I didn’t want to analyze or worry I was feeling too much. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, but I’m so pleased you’re here.”
“You’re just using me for my marshmallows.”
“And the sex—don’t forget about the sex.” I pressed a kiss to his neck.
He laughed as he carried me down the hallway toward the library.
“Wait. You brought marshmallows—how did you know I’d want a fire?”
“I didn’t. I just thought it was the weather for it.”
I pulled back to look at him. “You, Mr. Steele, are a mind reader.”
He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, then thought better of it and continued into the library. “I have no idea how to light a fire,” he said.