“Oh,” she said, leaning into the corner of the couch. “Why is this a problem again?”
“I enjoy spending time with Logan, when we are two normal people playing cards or eating French toast; but then there are times like Saturday, where he flies us to another state to go to an aquarium for the day. I mean honestly, who does that? Certainly not people from middle-class suburbia.”
“Wait, what?” she asked. I quickly remembered that I hadn’t even had a chance to tell Alex about Saturday. I briefly filled her in on the highlights of my day trip to Atlanta.
“He did not do that, did he?”
“Did,” I replied, sinking my spoon into my ice cream again.
“Wow—must be nice!” Alex sang.
“It was,” I sighed. “Don’t get me wrong Alex, I really enjoyed myself this past weekend, but he has to know that I’m already out of my element, or at least he should. I can appreciate the fact that he wants to protect me and that’s why he wants me to stay at his place, but I don’t like being smothered.” I sighed loudly before shoveling another spoon of chocolate chunk into my mouth.
“When he dropped me off Sunday, I told him I would let him know if I was going to stay there. Today he e-mailed me saying he’s leaving tomorrow and he already told the doorman I was staying at his place. It’s like I’m a foregone conclusion.”
“Well, talk to him about how you feel,” Alex said, combing her hair back behind her ear.
“Well isn’t that a novel idea,” I commented sarcastically. I knew Alex was just trying to be helpful, but stating the obvious wasn’t the advice I needed.
“I’m serious, B. Does he even know you’re upset? I know how passive-aggressive you can be.”
“Doubtful,” I responded. “I didn’t e-mail him back.”
“Well, maybe if you lay out the reason this bothers you, both of you can come to a compromise. You know men are territorial. Honestly, I can’t blame Logan for not wanting you to stay while Damon’s still in town. Shoot, had I known what I know now, I would’ve never let you agree to him staying here in the beginning…asshole.” she mumbled under her breath.
“I think his heart is in the right place. It’s a good sign that he won’t stand for someone disrespecting you or hurting you. As for me, I’m down to stay at his pad some nights if you want me to. I could use a testosterone-free environment for a couple days. Plus, I wouldn’t mind playing rich for a couple days,” she said, smiling.
I laughed at her comment. “Uh yeah, because you live in squalor, right?” I chided.
“Oh be quiet! You know what I meant,” she said, swatting at me.
“All right, I’ll let you know what’s up when I figure it out. Enough about me; how was your weekend?”
“Hmm, let me think,” she said, cocking her head. “Damon ended up spending the night on the couch on Saturday after he and Jay came home slightly drunk. Jay said they just got out of hand one-upping each another on Patrón shots. I was stuck nursing them back to sanity. I let their stupidity slide though, since they were kind of having bon voyage drinks.”
“Huh?” I asked. My ears sparked at the words bon voyage.
“Damon leaves at the end of this week—at least that’s what Jay said.” I wanted to cartwheel through the living room at that news.
“Good riddance,” I mumbled, putting the lid back onto my ice cream. I was so glad I’d missed that fiasco.
“Well, I’m going to have dinner and then figure out what to tell Logan,” I said. I stood up from the couch, ice cream in hand.
“Got it backward there, don’t you think B? Dessert before dinner? Tisk tisk,” Alex joked.
“What are you going to do, tell my mom?” I called from the kitchen.
“Don’t tempt me,” she shouted back.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I replied. “I’m going to have a salad for dinner, do you want some?” I called back to her.
“No, I’m good. Thanks though. I got some work to do, so I’ll see you later.”
“All right,” I said, pulling the ingredients I needed out of the fridge.
I chopped up a quick Cobb salad and retreated back to my room. I turned on the TV and melted back into my pillows. I tuned into CSI: Miami as I chomped on my leaves like a rabbit. My salad was more palatable as I watched Delko on screen—he was freaking hot.
I finished off my salad right before the show was over. My temporary distraction had come to an end. I needed to talk to Logan and tell him how I felt.
I dialed Logan’s number and waited for him to pick up, but my call went to voicemail. Must be busy, I thought. Me spilling my guts would have to wait. I took my dish to the kitchen and washed it before hopping into the shower.
As the steam billowed through my confined bathroom, I wondered about Logan. It had been an hour since I’d left him that voicemail, and I hadn’t heard a peep from him. As much as I wanted to talk to him, clear the air, and let him know that I would take him up on his offer, I wasn’t about to blow up his phone, as if I had nothing better to do. Although being in the same shower where Logan made my heart quicken, muscles contract, and mind drift didn’t help one bit. It would be hard to substitute Logan with my bullet while he was gone, but I was a survivor.
After I got dressed, I pulled a few items that I would take to Logan’s place. It would be weird staying at his place without him, but at least the sheets would smell like him. That thought warmed my spirits.
By the time I realized I had severely overpacked, my desire to talk to Logan was stronger than my stubbornness. I grabbed my phone and shot Logan a quick message. It wasn’t the same as hearing his voice, but it would do the job.
From: Brooklyn Caldwell
To: Logan Colton
Subject: So you’re leaving…
Monday, May 15, 2012 at 8:45 PM
Got your e-mail. Tried to call you but you didn’t pick up. Going to bed. Have a safe trip. Don’t bring the rain back this way when you return. BTW, I’ll be staying at your place. I was a little mad at you earlier since you seemed to want to just flex your muscle, but I’m over it.
I inserted a smiley face for good measure, before telling him I’d miss him and signing my name.
I was in a comma when my phone began to vibrate.
“Hello?” I grumbled. My voice was raspy.
“Hey babe, sorry I’m calling so late,” Logan whispered into the phone. “It’s been a rough one.”
I turned over in bed. It was nearly eleven forty-five. I closed my eyes again and cleared my throat slightly.
“Everything okay?” I breathed as I rolled onto my back.
“It’s better now that I get to hear your voice. I didn’t want to leave tomorrow without saying bye. Oh, and I got your e-mail,” he said.
“Oh, yeah. Is that still okay with you?”
“Of course. I’m just jealous that my sheets will get to feel you when I won’t,” he said. Even in my rested state, my body tuned into the air of sexiness in his voice.
“Hmm…that is unfortunate, for both of us, really,” I replied. “Guess I just have to get reacquainted with Jack Hammer.” I had inadvertently blurted out the nickname of my bullet. Crap. I wasn’t as awake as I thought. Ugh.
“Reacquainted with who?” Logan asked.
“Don’t make me say,” I moaned.
“Tell me,” he probed.
“My vibrator,” I groaned lowly. I blushed as the words floated in the air. I was sure most women owned one, but talking about your nicknamed vibrator with your boyfriend wasn’t exactly coffee talk.
“Jack Hammer, huh? Well, is Jacky there with you now?” he asked mischievously.
“No, he’s sleeping.”
“Good, I don’t want him to get jealous,” he said.
“Why would he get jealous?” I questioned.
“Because we’re going to play a little game—”
“Mmm, sounds interesting,” I murmured into the phone. “And what’s the name of this game, anyway?
“I be
lieve it’s called Logan Says.”
“Hmm…well I don’t think I’ve heard of that game before…”
“Well, it’s actually really simple. I’ll tell you what I want, and then you do it.” At the moment, I liked Logan’s take charge attitude. In one way he was just like my Jack Hammer. He had no problem taking charge when necessary.
“So…what am I supposed to do? I asked. I was intrigued. Even though I still had on my shorts and shirt, I felt like I was wearing a full sweat suit. I was eager to follow Logan’s orders. My groin wanted to play along, too.
“Before we get started, put me on speaker,” he requested. I willingly did as he asked. “Okay, you’re live. What does Logan say?” I asked seductively.
“Logan says, put your imagination to the test.” I squirmed at his words. My imagination was always full of promise.
“I think I can do that,” I whispered. I felt a spark of pleasure at his demand. Not wanting to play the game on my own, I made a request of my own. “No game is fun when you play alone,” I said into the phone.
“You’re never alone,” he said. “Now take your shirt off. Show me your sexy body,” he ordered.
I took off my shirt under the dim lights. Logan was lying next to me, watching my every move.
“You look so sexy, baby,” he said, as I wiggled out of my shorts. He ran his hand down my side, making my skin tingle. Logan brushed his hand up and down my leg, slowly pulling my legs apart. I was on fire. I preened under his touch. Logan’s tongue traced tiny circles at the base of my neck, as he worked his way down to my nipples, teasing me seductively.
While kissing me, he rolled on top of me, positioning his body between my legs. With every movement, he knew exactly what my body needed.
His hands roamed around my lower half. Then his fingers found my favorite spot and I climaxed violently, groaning lowly, my chest rising and falling continuously. I slowly floated back down to reality.
“You there, babe?” Logan whispered. I’d forgotten Logan and I were playing a game. It was so real. I was slightly disappointed.
“Mmmhmm,” I answered. “You know I’m going to hate you in the morning for keeping me up this late right?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, but it was worth it,” he chuckled. “Night babe.”
“Night,” I whispered back, clicking the end button.
I turned on my side, adjusting myself on my pillow. I was completely spent. Jack Hammer now had a new name—his name was Logan.
19
While Logan was gone, Alex and I just chilled out, watched a couple movies, and sipped mojitos at a bar near Logan’s place. Of course, Alex nearly died at the sight of Logan’s penthouse. I, on the other hand, thought she was being a bit too dramatic. Jay asked to come over one night. Alex promptly sent him a text message back, shutting down his request with a “No Boys Allowed” sign she found on Pinterest. I practically peed my pants when I saw what she’d sent him. As much fun as Alex and I had during the few days Logan was gone, I was glad he was coming back.
Wednesday night Logan had texted me from Seattle with a pic of the space needle and a message that said: “Can’t wait to take you sky high again.” I’d blushed when I read that message. I guess the saying was true: absence did make the heart grow fonder. I couldn’t wait for him to be home.
I JETTED OUT OF Copple promptly at 5 pm. It was Friday evening, and Logan’s flight landed in three hours. I briskly walked to the metro station and hopped on the train that dropped me off at Logan’s place. I’d stopped at the grocery the night before and got all the ingredients I needed to make a quicker version of the lasagna Logan liked. I wanted to show him how much he’d been missed. There was no better way to do that than a nice, romantic dinner. I’d even resurrected a cute one-piece lingerie from the bottom of my armoire for the occasion.
The elevator in Logan’s building seemed to be going at a snail’s pace. When I finally exited at the top floor, I hurried down the hallway and let myself into Logan’s penthouse. I was excited that this was the last night I’d be coming home to his empty place.
I headed into the kitchen, dropped my bag on the counter, and went straight to the sink to wash my hands. I took out all the ingredients I needed and found a baking dish in the cabinet. Forty minutes later the lasagna was finally layered and safely in the oven. I made my way upstairs and hopped in the shower. I took my time, washing my body and shaving.
After I got out of the shower, I slathered on lotion and perfume and pinned my hair to the side. For some reason I wanted to pull out all the stops. Logan had been gone for four long days, and I was ready for him to be home.
I made my way downstairs at ten minutes before eight. My phone buzzed on the counter.
“Hey you! Are you back?” I couldn’t hold the excitement out of my voice.
“Hey babe. Yeah, I just landed. I should be there in twenty minutes or so. I’ll see you soon.” I heard a hint of excitement in Logan’s voice. I liked to think I was the cause.
“All right, I’ll be waiting.”
We hung up the phone and I continued my surprise dinner decorating. I dimmed the lights throughout the penthouse. D.C. was gorgeous at night.
I stole two candles off the fireplace mantle and placed them on the kitchen table. I’d just finished laying out dinner and lighting the candles when I heard the front door lock click.
“Brooklyn?” Logan called from the front door.
“In the kitchen!” I hollered back.
After a few seconds Logan finally appeared. He was a sight for sore eyes in jeans, a T-shirt, and black leather jacket. Fire rushed through me as I took him in.
“Hey,” Logan breathed.
“Hey yourself,” I said back, feeling a little self-conscious in my ridiculously small violet teddy.
Logan walked over to where I was propped on the counter. “I see you’ve been busy,” he said. “Smells good.”
“Yeah, I thought I’d whip up something for you.” Logan leaned into me, placing his arms on either side of me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. He caressed my thigh with his fingers. His close proximity was making me breathless.
“I know. I wanted to,” I breathed.
“I like this little number,” he said, playing with the seam of my dress. “I missed you like hell, you know.” I smiled at his comment.
“I missed you too,” I said, uncrossing my legs. Logan stepped in between my legs and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I leaned in and kissed him softly.
“I missed your lips,” he murmured. He pulled back and put his hand in his pocket.
“I have something for you,” he whispered, sliding his hand into his pants pocket. I took in a strong whiff of his cologne, which I now knew was Lacoste Rouge. I’d secretly sprayed a little on the shirt I’d been sleeping in while he was gone. I was officially love struck. Had I been wearing panties, they would’ve melted from his smell alone.
“Really?” His thoughtfulness was appreciated, but I wasn’t in the mood for gifts, unless they were of an orgasmic nature.
Logan pulled his hand out from his pocket and dangled a tiny trinket in the air. A miniature space needle keychain hung above my head.
I smiled instantly. “Sky high?” I asked.
“As promised,” he responded.
Logan dropped the keychain on the counter and took me into his arms, bringing me in for a deep kiss. He kissed me as if we hadn’t seen one another in months, not days. I didn’t know how military wives survived while their husbands were gone. I had turned into a sex-deprived maniac in a matter of seventy-two hours.
I wrapped my legs around his back. His hands cupped my ass and I let out a low moan. He lifted me off the counter and walked into the living room.
“No dinner?” I asked as he carried me past the table.
Logan sat down on the couch with me in tow. He ran his hands down my arms, and then my thighs. His fingers found their way under my night dress. I tensed in anticipa
tion, waiting for them to find one of my many happy places.
Our eyes locked. “The only thing I want at this moment is you. Only you,” he whispered as he leaned in to cover my lips with his.
AS WE DROVE DOWN the George Washington Parkway the next morning I cracked my window and let the wind wisp through my hair. It was supposed to be a nice May day with weather in the mid-seventies. I adjusted my strapless mauve-colored sundress with jeweled flip-flops. I’d curled my hair into loose ringlets that hung near my shoulders. I didn’t know where Logan was taking me, but I had wanted to look presentable enough for whatever the occasion.
Life was good. Logan was back in D.C., Damon had finally left the East Coast, and Alex and I had a few days of girl time together.
Since we had been seeing one another, I felt like something inside me had come alive. It had been so long since I’d experienced the euphoria of a new relationship. Logan’s thoughtful gestures and remarks over the past weeks had begun to penetrate the armor around my heart—and I was terrified, but I could feel myself falling—hard.
We’d been on the road for nearly thirty minutes, and I was starting to get antsy. I pulled my shades from my face and looked at the destination sign in the distance. According to the freeway marker we were just outside McLean.
“So now do you want to tell me where we’re going? I mean, I think we’re going to need to stop for food and water in a few more minutes,” I said, fishing for a clue.
“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”
True to his word, fifteen minutes later we’d exited the thruway and were cruising down tree-lined streets. After a few more minutes of driving Logan turned off the main road onto a narrow path, sprinkled with residential homes.
We finally stopped in front of a wrought iron gate. Logan’s keychain beeped, and we coasted through the gate and down the plush driveway.
A few seconds later the trees opened and a mansion loomed in the distance.
Unsettled Page 20