“That’s not him.” Maybe if she said it enough, it would eventually be true.
“Well, it’s certainly not anyone else. I see that now.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LOGAN LAY STARING at his bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep. The early-morning dawn burst through the cracks in the blinds, and the sounds of the city came through the walls of his studio apartment on Lexington Avenue. His cell-phone calendar chimed and he didn’t need to look to know what the reminder said—Book Release Party. A day for celebrating an accomplishment, a day to enjoy his returning success. But what value did it hold when he was alone? He’d initially returned to the series for the same reason he’d started writing in the first place, to help fill a void, to provide an escape from his struggles. But now he realized it didn’t matter how many books he wrote, or how many hours were spent forgetting about the pain; it was always there when he wrote the last word.
Pushing back the sheets, he swung his long legs over the side of his bed and sat there with his elbows on his knees, contemplating his day. He had all day to himself...to think about Leigh.
Shaking his head, he forced himself up. Pulling on his jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, he descended the stairs from his loft bedroom to the open-concept kitchen and living room. Opening the cupboard, he sighed. No coffee. Knowing he couldn’t focus on anything until there was a Starbucks cup in his hand, he grabbed his wallet and keys from the kitchen counter, shoved his feet into his running shoes and left the apartment.
Ten minutes later, he inhaled the smell of the coffee as he scanned the display case.
“Can I get you anything?” the young barista asked, opening the back of the display.
“Um...do you have any raspberry muffins?” His own, the parting gift from Ginger Norris, had disappeared earlier that week. His attempt at freezing them fell short after the first lonely bite the first night back in his cold, dark apartment.
“No, sorry...just bran or oatmeal.”
“Only the coffee, then,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.
“Hadn’t seen you in here for a while,” the young woman said with a smile as she punched in his usual coffee.
“I was away for a few weeks.” He hadn’t even thought she’d ever noticed him. He usually came in during the early-morning rush, and there was no time for idle chitchat.
“What happened to your hand?” she asked, handing him the coffee.
“Fell off a ladder.”
“That sucks. Aren’t you a writer?”
Her question surprised him. “Yeah, did I mention that before?” It wasn’t something he usually announced.
“No, but I noticed you in here writing on yellow legal-pad paper a few weeks ago.”
He did sometimes go there to work if his apartment got too quiet. “Oh.”
“What do you write?” she asked.
“Mystery novels.”
“Ever published anything?”
“Actually my fifth novel released yesterday.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, but the girl seemed genuinely curious. He missed friendly conversation since leaving Brookhollow.
“That’s great, congratulations. What are you doing to celebrate?” she asked, pushing his money away. “It’s on the house. Consider it a book-release gift.”
“Thank you. Well, my book-release party is this evening. Until then...” He shrugged.
Another customer approached the counter and he moved aside, putting his money back in his wallet. The Cutler desk ad from Danielle O’Connor fell out and he bent to pick it up. He suspected it was probably sold by now.
“Well, make sure you reward yourself for the accomplishment,” the barista said, turning her attention to the next customer.
“Thanks,” Logan said, glancing at the ad again. Reward himself. Well, there were really only three things he wanted—Amelia, Leigh and this desk. He sighed. There was nothing he could do about the first two at the moment. Reaching into his pocket, he dug out his cell phone, punching in the Boston area number. If he was forced to move to L.A., he’d find a way to take it with him.
* * *
LOGAN LEANED AGAINST the bar at Ella’s Lounge at 7:58 that night, having barely made it on time. The drive to Boston and back had taken the greater part of his day, but he was now the proud new owner of the Cutler rolltop desk he’d always wanted. The distraction of the road trip and the excitement of finally having it in his possession did help to liven his mood, but now sweat dripped down his forehead in the crowded bar and his stomach was in knots. Two more minutes until he had to get up to the microphone and thank everyone for coming, read an excerpt from his book and answer questions. Two more minutes until he had to admit to himself what he’d known all along: she wasn’t coming. What they’d had in Brookhollow would remain there and in his memory.
“Logan? We’re ready to get started,” Gina said behind him.
Turning, he forced all thoughts of Leigh from his mind. He just had to get through this few hours. “Okay, just give me a second.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” Gina said, moving away to inform the crowd they were ready to begin the reading.
Logan took a deep breath, drained the contents of his glass and turned. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Leigh, standing near the door. He blinked. Smiling, she held up a hand in greeting, and in a daze Logan made his way to where she stood, seemingly frozen to the spot.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
“I didn’t think you’d come.” She was here. He couldn’t believe it.
“Honestly, me, neither.”
“I’m glad you did,” he said, touching her bare arm. In the black V-neck, A-line dress, she looked amazing. She wore her hair in soft curls around her shoulders with a pale pink lipstick on her lips. The memory of how safe and welcoming those lips had felt pressing against his only a week ago made him forget where he was and he stepped closer. Only a week ago, yet it felt like a lifetime. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, unfazed by the hundreds of curious onlookers. This might not be a small town, but rumors would still fly. He didn’t care.
He watched her swallow hard and her cheeks flushed. “I missed you, too. Turns out, I was wrong—not everything I needed was in Brookhollow.”
“That’s funny, because until now, everything I needed was.”
“Logan, we’re ready for you,” Gina said, coming up behind him. Noticing Leigh, she smiled. “Sorry to drag him away, but his adoring fans await.”
Logan rolled his eyes. He hadn’t felt like going through with this release party all day and now that Leigh was here, he just wanted to take her back to his apartment, wrap his arms around her.... How long was she staying? “You’ll stay right here? I’ll read fast...maybe skip over a bunch of boring stuff.”
Leigh nodded. “Of course. This is your night. Do your thing.” She removed his hand from her arm and gave him a small shove.
“Thanks. You can have him back in twenty minutes,” Gina said, taking his elbow and leading him toward the stage.
“Stay,” Logan mouthed, glancing back over his shoulder. Now that she was here, he was terrified she would leave before he got the chance to tell her everything he should have before.
* * *
LEIGH WATCHED AS Logan was escorted by the petite, trendy blonde with the six-inch stilettos and twenty-two-inch waist, fighting a sense of jealousy. Brushing it aside, she scanned the room for an empty seat as Logan took the microphone on stage. Sliding into a booth along the back wall, she looked around the sophisticated bar. It had been a long time since she’d been in the city and she’d forgotten how fast-paced and exciting it could be. She ran a hand along the plush velvet seat and took in the elegantly dressed tables. So different from anything in Brookhollow. The Fireside Grill was the closest thing to fine dining the
y had and it didn’t come close.
Glancing down at her long dark velvet dress and simple heels, she felt an uncomfortable nervousness creeping down her spine as she noticed the curious stares from the neighboring tables. Prada and Hugo Boss filled the crowded room. Logan’s sophisticated friends and colleagues in their expensive jewelry. Art-world elegance. Her heart raced and she reached unsteadily for the water carafe to fill an empty wineglass in front of her. Her mouth was dry and her palms were damp. What was she doing here? While Logan fit so easily into her world, she stuck out like a sore thumb in his. And it would be so much worse in L.A.
Not that she was considering L.A.
Was she?
She raised the glass to her lips and stared at the man on the stage. He was so handsome and kind, and she couldn’t deny the love she saw reflected in his eyes as he watched her from the podium. Her world, his world, it didn’t matter—they were the same, and their love for each other would be the same anywhere.
* * *
LOGAN TRIED TO scan the crowd while he read, but his gaze continued to return to Leigh. How could he look anywhere else when the woman he was in love with was sitting in a far booth, looking more beautiful than he’d remembered? She was here. Losing his place on the page in front of him, he stuttered. “Sorry...can’t read my writing...” he said, the private joke earning him a smile from Leigh, further throwing off his focus. Finding his place, he continued on...in a rush. He couldn’t wait to be done. She was here.
He cut the excerpt short. If they wanted to know what happened next, they could buy the damn book. “Thank you,” he said, closing the book and handing it to Gina, who looked annoyed.
From the bar, Clive shook his head and rolled his eyes.
Whatever. His agent was the only one in the room who knew the scene actually continued.
Stepping off the podium, he made his way through the congratulatory crowd to Leigh. “Hi,” he said when he finally reached her.
“That was an odd place to stop,” she said with a smile.
“Ah, these people only come for the free alcohol anyway. So...how are you?” The question was a loaded one as he was desperate to hear about her grandmother and the adoption process.
“I’m good.”
“How’s your grandmother feeling?”
“She’s much better. I think the heart attack scared her, though. She’s not working alone in the bakery anymore and she’s decided to move into the seniors’ complex in town.”
“That’s probably a good thing.” He knew it would help take some of the pressure off Leigh. He smiled at her, the joy of seeing her so strong, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her face. Suddenly he felt far too far away from her. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the other side of the booth where she sat.
“Please,” she said, moving over quickly to make room.
He took her hand in his as he sat and studied her. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to keep staring like this. I just can’t believe you’re here. I mean, when we said goodbye at the B-and-B, I thought that was it.”
“Me, too. And I wasn’t sure coming here was the right thing...but I wanted to see you. The truth is—”
His cell phone rang loudly in his coat pocket, startling them both.
Stupid phone. “Please, go on.”
“Don’t you have to get that?”
“No.”
“It might be important.”
“This is more important,” he said, but as soon as the call went to voice mail, the phone rang again.
“The person on the phone seems to believe differently. It’s okay, go ahead.”
Logan grumbled as he pulled out his phone. “Someone better be dying,” he mumbled; then his heart stopped at the sight of his ex’s number.
“Everything okay? You look pale,” Leigh said, touching his arm.
“It’s Kendra. They were arriving in New York tonight for the court case on Monday morning.” They were here. Amelia was in the city. Excitement and nerves overwhelmed him as he continued to stare at the ringing phone.
“Answer it!” Leaning over him, she accepted the call. “Sorry,” she whispered.
Logan slowly brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, Dad,” Amelia’s excitement made his eyes water.
“Hi, baby girl. How was the flight?”
“Long. Where are you?”
“At my book-launch party. Remember, I told you about it last week?”
“Can I come?”
The bar was eighteen-plus and it was almost nine. “Sorry, sweetie, it’s adult only.” He couldn’t wait to see her, but Leigh was here.
“But Mom said I’d see you tonight.” Her disappointment was so tough to hear.
“I know, sweetie.”
“Go see her,” Leigh whispered, touching his hand.
Logan hesitated. This could be the last time he saw Leigh, who’d come all the way from Brookhollow. But his daughter was finally back in New York...and she wanted to see him.
“Tell her you’re on your way,” Leigh insisted.
“Dad?” Amelia said on the other end.
“Yes, sweetie, I’m here.” He paused, staring at the woman he loved.
“Go,” she whispered.
He hadn’t known it was possible to love her even more. Squeezing her hand, he mouthed, “Thank you” before saying, “Tell your mom to drop you off in fifteen minutes.”
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE?” Logan asked her again outside the bar.
“Are you kidding me? Yes! Go see your little girl,” Leigh said, desperately striving to hide her disappointment.
“I’m nervous and excited, and disappointed that I have to go right now,” he said, touching her cheek.
“Nervous?” She understood the other two. She was feeling them, too.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s been over a month since I’ve seen her.”
“She’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed her.” She believed that. Though she suspected he did have a tough battle ahead of him with his ex in court Monday morning.
“Thank you.” He kissed her hand.
Leigh checked her watch. After nine. “You better go.”
After consulting his own watch, Logan nodded, but instead of turning away, he pulled her close. He slid his arms around her waist, and she tilted her face upward until their lips met. This time she accepted the kiss wholeheartedly, not wanting it to end. His arms tightened around her and he drew her even closer. She leaned into him and savored his lips on hers. When he reluctantly pulled away a moment later, he buried his face in her hair, still holding her close. “If only life weren’t so complicated.”
“It’s fine, really,” she said, forcing a carefree tone she didn’t feel.
“We’ll figure this out...we have to,” he said, determination in his dark eyes.
She nodded. She knew he meant it.
“I promise,” he said.
She nodded again, not trusting her voice.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“Of course.” She forced a smile. “Go, it’s getting late.”
“Okay, well...”
“I’ll see you when I see you?” she said, noticing this time she’d allowed herself just enough hope to say “when,” not “if.”
“Yes.” He took a step toward her and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “And I promise, you will see me...soon.”
* * *
“DAD, AM I GOING to have to go back to L.A.?” Amelia asked an hour later as he turned off her bedroom light. Having her back in her room after a month of short phone calls was wonderful. She seemed as happy to be here.
Pausing at the door, Logan struggled to find the words to answer his daughter’s question. If
only he knew. “Do you want to?” he asked, going back into the room and taking a seat next to her bed. He realized it was probably the first time either he or Kendra had asked for the girl’s input.
“Not really. I mean, it’s warm there and the beach was nice...but the kids at school weren’t very friendly.”
He brushed her dark curls away from her tiny face. “Changing schools can be tough.” He knew that firsthand. He also knew that people were different out West. Not better or worse, just different, and it would be a big change for his child.
“I’d rather stay here with you,” she said quietly, “but then I feel guilty about leaving Mom.”
Logan sighed. This was all far too much to put on the shoulders of an eight-year-old and he wished Kendra could think about their daughter’s feelings and future for once.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty, sweetheart. Your mom wants to be in L.A. and that’s her decision,” he said, fighting to keep his disdain for Kendra’s choices from his voice. Since their separation, they’d tried—or at least he had tried—to never let the girl feel animosity from him toward her mother. “And if a judge decides on Monday that L.A. is where you should be, too, then I’ll be there, as well.” It annoyed him that one person’s decision could affect them all so much and there was nothing he could do about it.
“What about your books and stuff?” she asked. His little girl definitely hadn’t inherited her mother’s selfishness and she was far too smart.
“What’s important is that we’re together, and I’ll make sure that happens, okay?” Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. “Now get some sleep. We’ll go to the park in the morning and get ice cream from Kerbs.” The ice-cream café at the edge of the park was a tradition of theirs and he wanted to make sure the following day in the city was as special as it could be...just in case.
“I’m actually trying to watch my sugar intake. Do they have frozen yogurt?” she asked.
Watching her sugar intake...Logan shook his head. Clearly a month in L.A. with her mother had already been too long. Ruffling her hair, he said, “You’re getting ice cream—a double scoop...in a waffle cone...with whip cream and sprinkles.” He tickled her and she giggled.
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