Would she think he was lying and ask him to do a bunch of parlor tricks to prove it?
Would she think it was weird?
Would it freak her out?
“That’s awesome!” she exclaimed. “But does your brain get tired? I can’t imagine storing that much information.”
He loved that her first response to his condition was empathy. It was a first. No one had ever had that take on it. But no one was Emma.
“I guess I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” He said.
“Oh right.” she nodded in agreement. “I guess not, huh. That’s just your norm.”
“Yeah. It’s weird for me when people don’t remember things. Or they remember them wrong. I used to think people were just liars. The older I get, though, the more I see that people do tend to rewrite history and they truly believe that how they remember it is how it happened.”
“Man…” She shook her head as she looked up at him. “I guess that would be good for your job though, right? I mean, in undercover work, it seems like it would help you keep your story straight.”
“It does.” Again, Logan was blown away with her unique take on this. “I can remember faces, names, relationships.”
“I would love if I could do that! Half the time when I’m writing my characters, I don’t have a clue what color eyes they have or what their middle names are. I was just writing a scene today where I had to remember what Tina—my heroine—what her second-grade teacher’s name was—”
“Mrs. Garcia.”
“What? How did you know that?” She looked more surprised at that than anything else he’d said tonight. “Wait. You read one of my books?”
“I read all of them.” Logan had read two a day over the weekend, so he was caught up on all of the Spencers’ lives. “You’re an amazing writer.”
“You don’t have to say that.” She blushed as she dismissed his compliment.
“I know I don’t, and if you weren’t, I wouldn’t say that. But you are.”
She shook her head and looked back at the bike in the middle of his garage. He’d irritated her a little bit, but he didn’t care. She was an amazing woman, and if she didn’t see herself like that, he was going to do everything in his power to show her.
Getting back to the matter at hand, Logan continued his original thought. “Listen, I know that you never wanted to get on the back of one of these things, but I would never ask you to do anything that wasn’t safe. I took her out today, and she’s a smooth ride. There’s a private road just up the way that winds around the mountain. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She looked at the bike, then back at Logan, and back to the bike again. She was biting the inside of her lip as the wheels in her head turned. He waited while she mentally debated with herself whether to go through with it or not.
Fisting her hands at her sides, she nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it; she was just so damn cute.
“It’s not a root canal. You might like it. And if you don’t, we’ll turn around and come right home. Deal?” he asked, putting his hand out for them to shake on it.
She sliced her gaze briefly to him and then back to the bike as if she didn’t trust it and didn’t want to take her eyes off it.
“Deal,” she said, as she put her hand in his.
Instead of shaking on it, he pulled her so that she was facing him and cupped her face in his hands. Then he captured her lips with his. The moment their mouths touched, his body was consumed with fiery need. Tilting her head to the side, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping between her full lips.
He could say that he was kissing her to distract her from her fear, but the truth was he was kissing her because he had to. All night, he’d been on edge from being so close to her and not allowing himself to touch her or hold her the way he wanted to, to show everyone at that wedding that she was his.
All of that pent-up frustration was being poured into his kiss. He wanted to claim her. To mark her. To possess her.
It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with. He’d avoided any kind of romantic connection like the plague. It wasn’t difficult.
Before Emma, he’d never felt any conflict when it came to the opposite sex. His romantic life had been one word: uncomplicated. There were no mixed signals. He was always honest and up-front about what he wanted, which was to enjoy each other in the bedroom and have no relationship outside of it. The women he’d been with had known where they stood. Sure, some of them might’ve thought they could change his stance, but it wasn’t his fault they were delusional.
Emma was different. He’d had a relationship with her outside the bedroom long before he’d had one inside. Now that he had both, he didn’t want to give either of them up. But she deserved a hell of a lot better than him.
What if he had another incident?
Not to mention how badly he’d be betraying Andrew’s memory.
This entire situation was the polar opposite of uncomplicated.
His confusion and angst were being infused into their long, drugging kiss. He was absorbing her essence into his cells in an attempt to satisfy his need, want, and craving for her. But it wouldn’t be enough. He could never get enough of her, but damn if he wasn’t going to take what he could get.
Moaning softly, she slid her hands around his neck, and her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. She did that a lot during sex, and he liked it. A lot. Now, his own actions were sending mixed signals to his body, saying that it was go time.
Reluctantly, he broke their kiss. If he hadn’t, he would have dragged her into the house and the bike ride would be a moot point. But Emma made a small sound of disappointment. Resting his forehead on hers, he smiled. He couldn’t help but love the fact that she seemed to want him just as much as he wanted her.
“Go get changed; jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. I would go with you, but we’d never make it back out here.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes.” He chuckled as he leaned back, letting his arms fall to his sides.
“Fine,” she sighed in resignation as she headed inside.
“Remember, it’s not a root canal,” he reiterated as he swatted her playfully on her butt.
Over her shoulder, she stuck her tongue out at him before she disappeared inside the house.
Damn, she was cute.
*
Sitting on the side of her bed, Emma pulled a blue thermal on as she tried to tell herself that feeling like she was going to throw up or pass out was completely normal when one was about to put their life in danger.
Never in her life had anyone accused her of being a risk taker. Quite the opposite, in fact. She liked safety. Security. Logan was right that her fear of motorcycles had stemmed from her parents, but she was pretty sure she would’ve acquired it without their help.
Her legs were shaking as she put her tennis shoes on. Adrenaline must affect people in different ways because if this was how all of those thrill seekers felt before they jumped out of a plane, dove off a cliff, swam with sharks, or base-jumped, they wouldn’t do it. Adrenaline junkies wouldn’t exist.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m so stupid,” she mumbled under her breath as she tied her shoelaces in a double knot with a little more force than was necessary. The second the word stupid left her mouth, she remembered the promise she’d made to Logan.
How had she never noticed that she said things like that but he had? She’d spent her entire life with herself, and she’d only been there a couple of weeks. He really did amaze her. In the short time they’d spent together, she’d come to realize she’d never met anyone else like him. He was so special, so unique.
Not for the obvious reasons. Not for his devastatingly good looks. Not for the whole quiet, brooding bad-boy thing he had working for him. Not for his deep-brown eyes she could easily get lost in. Not for his smile that could turn any day fro
m bad to good and the delicious dimples that went along with it. Not for his work-of-art body. Not for his unwavering loyalty or his uncompromising honesty. Not even for his unique and unmatched memory.
No, the thing that really set Logan apart was his heart. Maybe most people didn’t see the side of him she’d been lucky enough to see, but that man had the biggest, most caring heart of anyone she’d ever met. When he cared about someone, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them.
And he really saw people for who they were, not what he wanted them to be. He saw Drew. And he definitely saw her. He didn’t believe in love, and since he was so honest, she had to take him at his word that he’d never been in love and he didn’t see that in his future. But whether he knew it or not, he did have the capacity for it. He cared, and he cared deeply.
She knew that, when he’d made her promise not to put herself down, it had been for her sake, not his. He wanted the best for her with no ulterior motive. Even her parents, who had claimed to love her—who should’ve loved her—unconditionally, hadn’t wanted that for her. The second she’d stepped out of the box they’d put her in and embarrassed them by becoming a teen mom, they’d abandoned her.
Her phone buzzed, and she looked down and saw that it was a text from Drew with Rick’s number. She quickly typed back her thanks and that she loved him and hoped he had fun tonight.
Seeing her son with Noah, with everyone in the town earlier, had made her see that, even though she’d been in Seattle for a decade and Drew had lived there his whole life, something had always been missing. Yes, he had friends at school and on his sports teams. But he didn’t have a best friend. And yes, he had teachers and coaches who seemed to like him and he got along with, but none who treated him the way Amanda and Justin did. None who had treated him…like family.
And she was seeing all of this because of one person. Logan. He hadn’t just opened up a part of herself she’d thought was gone. He’d also allowed her to see what was missing in her son’s life.
He was also solely to blame for the nausea and lightheadedness she was experiencing.
There wasn’t another person on earth who could get her on the back of a motorcycle. Who could push her this far out of her comfort zone. Only Logan. Who was waiting in the garage.
The sooner I get this over with, the sooner we can get back to that kiss, she reasoned with herself. Nothing like a little sexually inspired motivation. The timeless Limp Bizkit song “Nookie” played in her head; she grinned because she was definitely doing this for the nookie.
When she stood up, she caught her reflection in the mirror, and honest to God, for a split second, she didn’t recognize the person staring back at her. Stepping closer, she tried to examine why that was.
Her face was a little flushed from either the gut-wrenching fear or the scorching-hot kiss Logan had just planted on her. She wasn’t sure which. Her lips were a tad swollen from aforementioned scorching-hot kiss. Her eyes looked a little clearer and brighter than usual. Her hair might’ve been a little messier. But other than that, she couldn’t see what was so different.
As she examined her outer appearance, she thought about asking Logan if he’d noticed any changes, and in that moment, the source of her transformation revealed itself.
Logan.
Just thinking about him put a sparkle in her eye and a special flush in her cheeks. It wasn’t her hair, her eyes, or her lips. It was an inner light that had switched on.
What she saw staring back at her was a woman in love.
She was in love. With Logan.
At the realization, her stomach dropped down to her feet. Her first instinct was to run. To hide. How could this have happened?
How could it not have happened? her inner voice sarcastically pointed out.
She couldn’t breathe, and she felt queasy for a fear that had nothing to do with a two-wheeled machine and everything to do with the two-legged man who’d built it.
As she shook her head, tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t be in love. Not with Logan. To a man who didn’t want kids. Who never wanted to settle down. Who didn’t believe in love. That was the triple threat of death for a single mom.
How had she screwed this up so badly? Why in the world had she thought she could casually hook up with him under the guise of research and not have her feelings get involved?
“I’m such an idiot,” she breathed. And she didn’t even feel the slightest ping of guilt over it, either. Because, this time, she really was an idiot.
Logan wasn’t someone she could shut out of her life. He was a permanent fixture, even thousands of miles away. He was too important to Drew. Too important to her.
Her phone vibrated again, and this time, the text was from the man she’d just had realized she loved.
DID YOU GET LOST?
Even when she was smack-dab in the middle of an internal crisis, he could bring a smile to her face. Knowing she wasn’t going to solve the issue of her unwanted affection in the next few seconds, she decided she might as well get this ride over with.
As she walked down the hall, she thought that, on the bright side, the motorcycle wasn’t looking nearly as terrifying. What was a death machine compared to being head-over-heels in love?
She opened the door to find Logan leaning against the bike. He glanced up at her with more mojo and sex appeal than James Dean, George Clooney, and Charlie Hunnam combined.
In that moment, Emma made an executive decision to relax and experience all the joy and happiness and pleasure she could from this night and deal with her newly discovered love and its repercussions tomorrow. Tonight, she wasn’t going to be led by her head. She was letting her heart and organs lower than that take the lead in this dance.
She was going to feel, not think.
Logan walked to her and put a helmet on her head. As he fastened the clasp below her chin, he asked in a gravelly tone that had her feeling all kinds of things, “Are you ready?”
Repeating her response at the barbeque-slash-wedding, she replied with a shaky voice, “As I’ll ever be.”
He placed a too-brief kiss on her lips before assuring her, “There’s nothing to be scared about.”
Yes, there is. You have no idea.
Chapter 23
‡
Logan could barely restrain himself for the short time it took to slam the front door behind them and turn the lock. Damn, he had to have her in his arms, touch her, feel her, taste her. What he felt went so far beyond desire that the word was almost laughable. He didn’t just want Emma. He needed her.
Before she had even turned around, he pulled her towards him, brushed her silky hair aside, and started kissing the back of her neck. God, she tasted sweet. Her skin was warm and soft to his touch, but the most intoxicating thing was how he could feel the tremble of her moans under his lips.
Damn, would there ever be anything in this world that could turn him on faster than seeing and feeling how quickly and how much his touch affected her? He didn’t think so. His keys jangled as they hit the floor, and she reached her hands towards the table in the entryway to brace herself. His hard-on strained against his jeans, begging to be set free so he could bury himself inside her.
The bike ride had been even better than he’d imagined. Emma had loved every minute of it. He’d never seen her so uninhibited. It had felt so good having her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her body pressed up against his as she’d yelled in his ear to go faster. Just like she’d asked him to go harder the night before.
Logan firmly placed his hands around her waist and spun her around to face him. Smoothing her hair back from her face, he marveled at how beautiful she was, at how lucky he was right now. Staring up at him, she took his breath away.
Her beauty was stunning. Gorgeous. From her smooth, pale skin to her full, pink lips and aqua-blue eyes. She was the kind of woman who should be on television or in a magazine, but instead, she was standing in front of him, looking up at him breathlessly, waiting for him to
kiss her. To take her.
He didn’t make her wait any longer. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, crushing his mouth to hers. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth; overwhelmed again from feeling her moans through his mouth at the same time they hit his ears.
Her arms wound around his neck, and her fingers twisted in the hair at the base of his neck in a way that felt so familiar to him, that he wasn’t sure how he’d gone thirty years without feeling it. Urgency like the raging rapids that ran through the mountain, rushed through him.
Fuck. He couldn’t wait one second longer to feel her skin against his skin. He had to be naked with her—right then, right there.
He stepped back from her just long enough to pull his shirt off, and before he’d even finished tossing it aside, her hungry fingers raked over his chest. She stepped forward and kissed his neck as she touched him. God, it was so good. It was almost too much pleasure to bear. His brain couldn’t process it.
He always had the best intentions with Emma, to go slow, to savor every sensation. But when things actually started between them, arousal short-circuited his brain, causing every synapse to fire one short series of commands: get naked, get her naked, get inside her. It was all he could think about.
Luckily, she was on the same page, because she started peeling off her own clothes with the same frenzied intensity he felt.
Scooping her up as she stripped, he carried her down the hall to his bedroom, discarding items of clothing along the way. With every new bit of skin she exposed, Logan’s body and mind burned for her just a little bit more.
Last night had been so amazing that he never would have guessed he could top it. Not only had they had the hottest sex he’d ever had in his life against the wall, they’d also had the sweetest sex he’d ever had when they’d lain down. But having been at the wedding with her, having taken her out on his bike, and having come home to ravish every inch of her body, somehow made this night even better than the night before.
He kicked the door open and made it to the bed in two strides. Once he’d set her down on the mattress, she stretched her hands behind her back to unfasten her bra. Logan reached behind her and finished the job, pulling the fabric away from her plump, beautiful breasts, and dropping it onto the floor. Then he ran his hands up her body, starting at her smooth, creamy thighs and continuing all the way up her taut, trembling belly until he was cupping her breasts. He lowered his mouth to capture first one stiff peak in the hot wetness—then the other.
Magic Kiss (Hope Falls Book 11) Page 23