By the time he and Tess got her things into his truck and buckled up, Logan found himself saying, “That was a damn nice thing you did in there. Let me buy you some breakfast.” He started the car and put his sunglasses back on.
Tess blinked, then smiled tentatively. “Thank you, but I already ate. I get up early. I’ve been up since seven.”
“Ah. Okay.” He checked the rearview mirror, then pulled out of the spot. “I’m sure he’ll be okay, by the way. Terrence.”
“He scared the shit out of me,” Tess confessed. She leaned back into the seat, the leather squeaking a bit. Stealing a quick look into the backseat to check on Bubbles, who was curled up happily on the warmed seat, Tess shook her head. “I was checking out, and I heard Oh! Then a thwack. That was his head, hitting the floor.” She shuddered as she recalled it. “He hit it hard. I whirled around, and he was down, not moving. For a few seconds, I thought he was dead.”
Logan glanced at her; her brows were furrowed and her sultry mouth was twisted tight in a frown. He said, “But he’s not. Even if he has a concussion, he’s okay. And your kindness made him feel a lot better about tripping over his own feet and lying in the middle of a hotel floor. That was good of you. Really.”
“I was worried. I didn’t know what to do for him, so I just . . .” She shrugged. Her frown loosened, and her drawn features relaxed. “You would have done the same thing, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, maybe I would’ve,” he said. He made the turn onto the main strip. “But not a lot of people around here would’ve. You know?”
Tess shrugged again. “I guess . . .”
An awkward silence fell over them for a minute. Even Bubbles was quiet. Logan cleared his throat. “The house is fine. Took care of everything.”
“Oh God. With all of this, I forgot about it!” She laughed, a self-deprecating chuckle that charmed Logan to his toes. “Tell me you didn’t stay up all night out in your truck. Please.”
“Of course I was in the truck,” he said, “but I slept, and I was fine. Honest.”
“I can’t thank you enough.” She pushed a few stray curls back from her eyes. “I’m the one who should be buying you breakfast.”
He smiled, something warm flowing through him. “I already ate too. So . . . maybe a rain check?”
Her smile was as bright as the sunlight outside. “Absolutely.”
* * *
Tess stretched out in her bed, drew a deep, cleansing breath, and exhaled it slowly. Her evening yoga class had been great, and the long soak in the deep tub afterwards even better. The royal-purple cotton pajamas she wore were so soft against her skin, it was a delight. She drew another deep breath, exhaled slowly, curled up in her bed, and let herself settle into the plush king-size mattress. Serenity washed over her. Bubbles snored lightly, an adorable furry ball on top of the blanket by her feet. The fireplace in the master bedroom was a gas fireplace, so she didn’t have to do anything now but stare at it from across the room and relax.
She still couldn’t believe what she’d done the night before. Such a stupid mistake. But at least there was a happy ending, and now a wry grin when she thought of the whole thing. And Logan . . . rushing to her aid, staying all night to watch the house, taking care of everything . . . he’d been a godsend.
A seriously handsome, somewhat surly, somewhat complicated presence who hadn’t fully left her mind since he’d brought her home early this morning.
She’d spent the day catching up on work, then had an early dinner. There were quick phone chats with all three brothers to let them know what had happened, and then she’d gone to her twice weekly evening yoga class. She liked the instructor, Carrie, the group was a good size at ten, and Tess had no problem adjusting to Carrie’s instructions and ways. Between the class and then the warm bath, she felt at peace and ready to float off to sleep.
And instead lay there wondering how Logan Carter spent his evenings after a workday.
Did he have friends? A girlfriend? He seemed like the type of man who would have both of those things, but preferred his space and solitude.
Then again, what did she know? She couldn’t believe he’d held a grudge against her for her thoughtless comment all this time. Yes, what she’d implied was offensive, but not enough to warrant that kind of stubborn grudge. At least, not in her eyes. But it had, and she felt bad about that. She was glad she’d brought up the problem, and glad they’d come to an understanding. Because for some reason, the thought of him upset with her made her . . . sad? Uneasy? Regretful? What the hell was her deal when it came to him?
She grunted and rolled over, plumping up her pillows and tossing her long hair back over them. She had to stop thinking about Logan Carter. There was no reason to. He just worked in her house sometimes, they were acquaintances, that was all.
There was no reason for her to be intrigued by him, dammit.
Even if he was ridiculously gorgeous, in a no-holds-barred, manly man kind of way that made her hormones race like they hadn’t in some time.
The last time she’d had sex was Labor Day weekend; a casual interlude with an old acquaintance that had been merely satisfactory . . . which, in turn, left her feeling empty afterwards. It had been the last push that convinced her that having her own life, alone, was definitely how it was going to be.
She’d felt so lonely that following week that it shocked her. Yet, at the same time, she knew how it had to be now. She’d always believed in love, even after her parents’ disastrous uncoupling. She’d had boyfriends and looked for love her whole life . . . but it hadn’t happened for her. Only once had she fallen in deep as an adult, and Brady had been a bad choice. At least she’d found out who he really was before she’d married him.
On her own was how she’d do it. She’d tried love, been slapped by it, looked again, come up empty . . . it just wasn’t in the cards for her. Not everyone was going to find their soul mate like all three of her brothers had. She was the unlucky sibling, apparently. Not that she’d ever say that to them, or let herself drown in self-pity over it . . . it just was what it was.
She’d tried to date, do the casual thing . . . it wasn’t for her. Meaningless sex had proven to be just that. She could give herself an orgasm just fine and not have to deal with the hollow, awkward feelings afterwards, lying in a bed with someone she didn’t care about and knowing he felt the same. She hadn’t had rock-my-world sex since Brady, though, and that was years ago now. She’d loved him, so it took the sex to a higher level, more satisfying both physically and emotionally . . . she’d always been that way. She knew other people could separate good sex from love, their body from their mind—hell, two of her brothers had been like that before they’d met their wives. But she’d never been able to do that. After this last attempt at a casual fling, Tess had decided that sex was just going to be another casualty of her lackluster love life. She’d be on her own, have her baby, and concentrate on the new path she’d forge for herself.
But she bet Logan Carter was good in bed. That gorgeous mountain of a man . . . oh, would she love to climb him. Something in her belly warmed at the thought, shooting tingles straight between her legs. She imagined him hovering over her in bed . . . his muscled, broad shoulders, those shrewd green eyes gazing down at her . . . and shook the image out of her mind. She had to stop thinking about him. Yet as she lay there for the next few minutes, she found that was easier thought than done.
Maybe that was it, why she was suddenly thinking about Logan? Something simple like she still had needs, and it had been long enough now that her itch needed some scratching? And Logan was a drop-dead gorgeous, six-foot-four, virile Viking of a man who practically emanated testosterone, so she was a little hot for him?
Who was she kidding? More than a little hot. He was sexy as hell, both for his looks and just who he was. He was smart and strong, and that drew her to him. Spending Labor Day weekend in bed with Anton had only proved, once and for all, that a pretty face and body on their own just didn’t cut i
t for her; she needed a man of real substance to hold her interest. And Logan had it in spades. Talk to the man for two minutes, and you could see his still waters ran deep. He enticed her, no doubt about it.
She squeezed her eyes shut. It was clear that despite their easier vibe that morning, for the most part, Logan barely tolerated her. They weren’t friends. He thought she was some stuck-up princess. If he knew she was having dirty thoughts about him . . . about what his sensual mouth would feel like to kiss, or what his strong, calloused hands would feel like against her skin, or what his beard would feel like against her thighs . . . he’d probably grimace so hard at her that his ruggedly handsome face would crack.
With a heavy sigh, she took a few more deep breaths. It was only a quarter to ten, but going to sleep early seemed like a wonderful idea.
Her cell phone on the nightstand buzzed with a text message. Already sleepy, she debated whether to look at it or not. Curiosity got the best of her and she reached for it.
Hi Tess, it’s Terrence, read the text. I’m okay. Still in the hospital, staying overnight for observation. Because unfortunately, you were right, I have a concussion. You missed your calling, you should have been a doctor. Haha.
She smiled and typed back quickly, Hi there! I hate that I was right. But you’re a lucky man—you hit that floor hard! Very glad to hear from you, and that you’re okay.
Hi! Yes, I’m okay. Just will be slow going for the next few weeks, I guess.
Do whatever they tell you and you’ll be fine sooner than later.
I will, Terrence answered. Thank you again for hanging out with me on the floor. Really was nice of you. I’ll admit now, when I woke up, I was dizzy as hell and that scared me. Your being there kept me calm. I won’t forget that.
“Awww,” she said aloud, then wrote, I’m glad I helped. Sincerely. Stay in touch, please let me know when they release you from the hospital.
Okay. Probably tomorrow. Will rest at hotel for a day or two, then head home. Hell of a Happy New Year plan, huh?
She chuckled wryly and wrote, Yeah, sounds like your New Year’s Eve will be a rocking party.
Not anymore, I’m afraid, he texted. Hope you have good plans tomorrow night? Do something fun for both of us.
She sighed at that. She had no plans. Allie had invited her over to their house for a small party, but she’d declined. She’d stopped drinking at Christmas to start cleansing her body, and the noise of strangers held no appeal this time around. A quiet New Year’s Eve was what I had in mind, she wrote. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ll be home alone with my dog. My choice.
Guess we’ll both ring in the new year quietly, then, Terrence wrote. Okay, going to sleep now. Just wanted to let you know I am alive and okay.
Thank you for doing so, she responded. If I hadn’t heard by tomorrow morning, I was going to call the hospital and try to find out how you were.
You’re very thoughtful. Thank you again, Tess. Happy New Year to you.
You’re very welcome. Happy New Year to you too.
She put her phone back on the nightstand and snuggled up under the covers again. As she stared serenely into the flames and drifted off to sleep, she wondered what various people in her life would be doing the next night for New Year’s Eve. Her brothers . . . her closest friends . . . even Logan Carter.
* * *
Logan helped his mother from the front seat of his truck, then carefully wrapped her arm through his as they walked across the parking lot to the hospital.
“I’m not made of glass, you know,” she reminded him, but patted his arm as they walked.
“I do know,” he said, but slowed his stride to match hers. She was weaker and slower, that was clear. “Why’d they have to schedule your radiation session on New Year’s Eve, for Pete’s sake? That’s just gloomy.”
“Well,” she started, but shook her head and swallowed the words.
“No, what?” he nudged.
But she didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “So what are we having for dinner tonight?”
“You’re avoiding,” he said flatly. “What were you going to say?”
“Shut up and tell me what we’re having for dinner.”
He chuckled wryly. When Annmarie Carter didn’t want to talk about something, nothing would pry it out of her. He knew that all too well, because he was just like her. “I was thinking I’d make you a nice juicy steak. Get some iron in you.”
“That sounds nice.” The wind blew harder, icy and crystalline. She huddled closer to him and continued, “Any chance of some broccoli rabe sautéed in garlic and oil to go with it? You make it the best. And mashed potatoes?”
“Whatever you want,” he said. The thought struck him that it could be her last New Year’s meal, and a lump formed in his throat. He withdrew her arm from the crook of his elbow and slipped his arm around her waist to hold her closer as they walked against the wind. “Whatever you want, Mom, I’ll be happy to make it for you.”
“Thanks. You’re a better cook than you own up to,” she said.
“Don’t tell people. They’ll want me to do it for them too.”
“How about finding a nice girl to cook for?”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of that, lady?”
“What, hoping you find someone special?” Annmarie huffed out a breath. “No chance. It’s what I want for you more than anything.”
“I know, Mom,” he murmured. He hated to disappoint her, but having been married once, brief as it’d been, was all the evidence he needed that he wasn’t cut out for it.
They reached the front doors of the hospital, and the wide panes of glass parted with a swooshing sound. God, Logan hated the smell of hospitals. That piercingly antiseptic scent always brought back so many bad memories, and bringing his mom in for chemo and radiation had only added to them. He unzipped his jacket as Annmarie slowly pulled off her soft green hat. Making their way across the lobby to the elevators, his attention was so focused on her that he didn’t hear the voice calling him at first.
“Logan,” his mother said, “I think that man is trying to get your attention.”
Logan turned to see a man in a wheelchair being pushed toward the doors. “Hey, you!” he was saying loudly. “Tess’s friend! Tall blond guy!”
It took Logan a few seconds before he realized it was the man from the hotel floor the day before. “Hey, Terrence! How’re you doing? You look okay to me.”
“Eh, I’m fine,” Terrence said. “I didn’t catch your name yesterday, I’m sorry. Tall blond guy—how rude.” He laughed at himself.
“Logan,” he said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “So they’re springing you? You’re okay, then?”
“Well, Tess was right, I do have a concussion,” Terrence said. “They kept me overnight but they’re releasing me now.”
“If they’re releasing you, you must be all right.” Logan looked him over. Terrence had color in his cheeks, and seemed okay. “Is someone coming to get you?”
“I called a car service. I’m waiting,” Terrence said. “Going back to the hotel to take it easy for a few days, then I’ll go home. Why are you here? You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Logan said as his mother joined them. “This is my mother, Annmarie Carter. Mom, this is Terrence. Met him yesterday.”
They exchanged pleasantries, then Terrence asked, “So how do you know Tess?”
“I’m a house manager,” Logan said. “Her house—or her family, rather—is one of my clients. She had a mishap the night before, so she had to stay at the hotel. I was there to give her a ride home.”
“She’s an extraordinary woman,” Terrence declared. “And oh boy, is she nice to look at.”
Logan had to chuckle as he admitted, “Yeah, she is.”
“You have a girlfriend, Logan?” Terrence asked.
Logan blinked at the forward question as his mother quipped, “I wish.”
Terrence laughed, then said, “I talked to her briefly
last night. You know she’s staying home by herself tonight? A woman that beautiful should be taken out on New Year’s Eve. I’d ask her myself, but I know I’m too out of it to even make it through dinner. You should take her out.”
“You don’t say,” Logan muttered.
“Who’s Tess?” Annmarie asked her son.
Oh great, here we go. Inside, Logan stifled a groan. “One of my Red Mountain clients, Mom. Stress on the word client.”
“Oh, don’t you give me that ‘I don’t date clientele’ malarkey,” Annmarie scoffed. She looked down to Terrence. “Nice woman?”
“I fell yesterday and hit my head,” he said. “She lay on the floor with me to keep my spirits up ’til the medics showed up. Perfect stranger.”
Annmarie turned her assessing stare back to her son.
“Don’t even,” he warned.
“Does she have a boyfriend?” Annmarie asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business, or mine,” Logan said, “but no, as far as I know.”
“Then take her out tonight!” she pressed.
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
“I’m making you dinner and we’re watching a movie, remember?” he said.
“After today’s treatment, I’ll probably be asleep by nine,” she said. “So you’ll be alone, and she’ll be alone. Take her out!”
Logan pursed his lips, reining in the rant he wanted to let fly.
“Stop looking at me like you want to spit nails,” she said. “It’d make me happy to know you’re doing something fun tonight. Something besides watching me snore on the couch.”
“Easy with the guilt, okay?” Logan sighed. “I’m glad to be with you tonight.”
“I am too. But you can do both. Dinner with me, then going out with a beautiful young woman. Sounds like a win to me.”
Logan scrubbed his hands over his beard and growled in frustration.
“Didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Terrence said, grimacing for Logan’s sake.
Between You and Me Page 6