by Toni Blake
“Um, no—I’m good, thanks.” In ways, that is. In other ways, I’m a mess. And I want you so much I can barely stand it. Yep, apparently she was getting used to thinking of Logan like this.
“As always, you’ve got it all under control,” he said with a sexy grin.
No, not all of it. Even so, she tried her best to smile and act normal.
“Hey, there’s Anna,” he said, his eyes lighting up.
And inside, Amy emitted a low growl. It was the kind of reaction she didn’t even know she had inside her. Until now. And—oh no—it was directed at a perfectly nice woman who’d been abducted as a child, for God’s sake, and was surely going through some serious turmoil as she tried to get to know her family. Amy felt like scum.
And even more so when she saw how stunning Anna looked in a long, flowy skirt with an exotic-looking print and a lacy top that accentuated what appeared to be an absolutely perfect pair of breasts.
“Don’t forget to try to talk to her today, okay?” Logan reminded her.
As if she could forget the request. “In all my spare time,” Amy replied, trying to sound teasing, and then she added, “I’ll do my best,” thinking that with any luck she really wouldn’t have the opportunity. “Tessa was right—I’m pretty busy.”
He just shrugged in his easy, amiable Logan way. That was one more thing she loved about him—he was so easygoing, so understanding. And it was nice to have the old Logan back. “Well, you know whatever you can do will be appreciated.”
Just then, Anna spotted him and lifted her hand in a wave. And—blegh—she looked as happy to see him as he was to see her.
“Looks like you might not need my help anyway,” she heard herself say, hoping it didn’t come out too bitter.
“Maybe not,” he answered, suddenly sounding confident. Which bugged her just as much.
And that must have been what prompted the next words out of her mouth. “On the other hand, you never know. Without my magic involvement, it might not work out.”
Logan just looked at her. And she immediately understood why. When it came to matters of romance and matchmaking, she was always the picture of optimism. Always. She was, after all, upbeat, cheerful Amy, who constantly built people up, expected the best for everyone, and assured them that love was on the way. So she added a hasty, “Just kidding,” to try to cover the weird blunder.
After which the object of her desire tossed her a quick smile that she actually felt in her panties, even under these particularly horrible circumstances, and said, “Well, I’m gonna go talk to her.”
“Okeydoke,” she said, then looked back to the punch bowl as if it was in dire need of her attention.
Only a second later, though, she glanced up. Because she couldn’t stop herself. And she watched as Anna Romo greeted Logan with a hug. A hug that made her heart crumble.
Oh God, I want to hug him that way. Why can’t it be me? Just this once. With just this one guy. Why can’t I have the same kind of romantic fun, the same kind of love, the rest of the world seems to have?
“Well, just standin’ there starin’ at ’em ain’t gonna fix anything.”
She whipped her head around to find Edna at her elbow, a punch cup in her hand—and gasped. Edna knew! “How did you know?”
“Got eyes in my head, don’t I?”
Oh no, was her new affection for Logan that obvious? But Edna clearly read her mind on that, too, since she went on to say, “Don’t worry—nobody else can tell. I’m just a keen observer is all.”
“Please don’t tell anybody, Edna.”
Rachel’s grandma drew back, appearing almost offended. “Do I look like I got loose lips? No need to fret—your secret’s safe with me. But I wouldn’t take it to the grave or anything if I was you. Nope—if it was me, I’d do somethin’.”
Just like Tessa had told her. Do something. But they both made it sound so easy. “Have you seen her, Edna?” Amy asked pointedly. “She’s beautiful.”
It surprised her when Edna merely shrugged. “Men’ll go for that sorta thing, sure. But there’s more important stuff about a woman and most of the good ones eventually smarten up enough to figure that out.”
“So what do you think I should do?” She was just beginning to remember that Edna had a wily wisdom about her that she’d always envied and admired.
“Not sure,” Edna said, disappointing her. “Only you know what’s in your heart, what kinda move you’re ready to make. But I’m just sayin’ I wouldn’t lay low for too long ’cause he’s got that look in his eye.”
Amy cringed. “What look?”
“The look of a man tryin’ to find somethin’. Somethin’ important in life—somethin’ he can sink his teeth into, if ya know what I mean. And ya don’t wanna let him start thinkin’ that somethin’ is her just because she was in the right place at the right time.”
And with that, Edna moved off, leaving Amy to her thoughts.
She feared it was already too late to stop Logan from thinking Anna was exactly what he needed right now. Heck, she almost wondered if Anna was what he needed. Fate had dropped her smack in the middle of Destiny right after Logan had decided he wanted someone new in his life. Add that to Anna being so . . . Anna, and it was hard for Amy to believe she had a chance in hell.
Watching them together was almost more than her heart could stand. It made her want to cry. And she didn’t think she’d ever felt so alone in her entire life, even standing there hosting a party with all of her closest friends around her.
The big question was: What next?
And the only answer she could come up with was, sadly, another love note from Logan’s secret admirer.
Of course, there was no blue stationery handy today. But time really did seem to be of the essence here, so she’d just have to improvise. As people milled about, she made her way into Edna’s house through the back door, suddenly glad to be alone, away from everyone. Because she was starting to cry a little, and this would give her a chance to get it under control.
Making her way into Edna’s little bathroom with the claw-foot tub and old-fashioned pedestal sink, she looked in the mirror and barely recognized herself. She wasn’t used to seeing herself cry—her eyes glassy, a tear sneaking out to roll down her cheek before she could stop it. Reaching for a tissue, she dabbed at the wetness, hoping to keep her makeup intact. Not that she wore a lot of makeup—that just wasn’t who she was.
Still looking, she took in the small lines beginning to form near her mouth, the tiny wrinkles developing around her eyes. She was getting older and she couldn’t stop the march of time. Not even the freckles sprinkling her cheeks could hide it. I’m going to be alone forever.
And why, why, why do I suddenly care so much? Why does it suddenly feel like life is slipping away, out of my grasp? Why don’t I care about the things I used to? Where did all my blind contentment go?
Love, she had discovered quickly, was something that filled you up so much, so full, that even when it was unrequited, you couldn’t not want it. You couldn’t will yourself to go back in time and not feel it anymore. It was too consuming. And yet . . . right now, she wished she could. She hated the way she felt. Undesirable. Unnoticed. Underappreciated. Unlovable. All because Logan had kissed her and then gone back to acting the same way he always had before. While nothing in her world would ever be quite the same.
Part of her wanted to just run away. Just get in her car and leave the shower, leave Destiny, and drive . . . someplace. But besides being an unrealistic non-solution, she couldn’t leave Tessa and Rachel right now anyway. Her friends meant everything to her and they were always there for her, and the way things were looking, them and the cat might be all she had to cling to as life went on.
So, when she eliminated the idea of running away from everything, that left only two options.
Accept your life as it is—accept that you’re going to stay in this town, running the bookstore, being the smiling-on-the-outside-while-you’re-crying-on-the-in
side matchmaker for the rest of your days.
Or seriously fight to win the man you love.
Even if fighting, at this moment, meant only being brave enough to send him another missive from his secret admirer.
Letting out the breath she hadn’t quite realized she was holding, she swallowed back her tears and forced herself to toughen up. Because that was how it had to be. She had a letter to write. And then she had to walk back out of this house and straight into the party she was hosting, head held high.
Passing back through Edna’s front parlor, she spied an old rolltop desk, the top open. And it took only a slight pull on one drawer to locate a stack of small folded note cards, the corners adorned with an antique-looking rose design. She knew Edna would gladly donate one to the cause.
As she seated herself in the wooden chair before the desk, it occurred to her that this particular note card seemed made for sweet, shy, flowery sentiments of burgeoning affection. However, at the moment, she felt far too desperate—and even daring—for that. Now was the time to be more outgoing, like Tessa had prodded her to before. And she didn’t have time to sit around analyzing this—so she just wrote.
Dear Logan,
When I see you, it’s all I can do not to melt into a puddle of desire. I want to know how it feels to have your hands on me. And to know how it feels to touch you, as well. All over. With you, I yearn to let go of all my fears and inhibitions and just do what my body urges me to. You are my dream, my fantasy. And with each passing day, I wonder more and more if it can ever come true. I only hope and pray I can somehow find the courage to tell you who I am. Soon. Before it’s too late.
Your Secret Admirer
When she was done, she read back over it. A puddle of desire? Yikes, where had that come from? And all over? What my body urges me to? Good Lord, who was she?
Well, she was a woman driven to desperate measures, obviously. Which was what desperate times called for. And as she rose from the desk and walked into the kitchen, stopping to peer out the window, the first people she caught sight of were Anna and Logan—she touched his arm now as she leaned in to tell him something private—and the sight reminded Amy that these were definitely desperate times.
Taking a deep breath, she put on a smile and walked out the door, doing her best to keep the note card hidden. Though even if anyone noticed it, they’d think it just belonged on a shower gift.
She’d taken only a few steps when Tessa looked up from a conversation with Lettie Hart and Old Mrs. Lampley to meet her gaze knowingly, as if she could tell something was up. So Amy wasted no time casting a speedy glance toward Logan and Anna—ugh, they were laughing now—then quickly flashed the card in her hand. Tessa winked, and Amy knew her friend got the message.
“Hey, freckles.”
Crap. Now, Logan? Really? She looked up to see him walking toward her and re-hid the card behind her back.
“Logan!” Tessa called, and hurriedly broke away from the other ladies to make her way over. And before he even reached Amy, Tessa grabbed onto his arm and said, “We need you over here for a big bridesmaid-and-groomsmen discussion about Rachel and Mike’s wedding.”
As she began to drag him away, he pointed toward Amy and said, “Well, she’s in the wedding, too,” but thankfully, Tessa just kept talking, something about who was escorting who down the aisle, and she also kept dragging Logan deeper into the clumps of people milling about. Which gave Amy the chance to finally sneak away.
Fortunately, no one else noticed or called after her as she made a beeline toward the many cars parked neatly beneath the first few rows of apple trees growing along Sugar Creek. As she grew closer, she felt as if the foliage made her all the more inconspicuous.
Though as she neared Logan’s car, she spotted Duke Dawson coming in the opposite direction. Duke was Lucky Romo’s best friend and owned the biker bar, Gravediggers, over in Crestview. He wore a trim, dark goatee, sported a few tattoos, and generally made Amy a little nervous. She’d heard a motorcycle in the vicinity a minute ago, so it must have been his.
“Hi,” she said simply as they prepared to pass one another in the cool shade the trees provided. They’d only met a couple of times in passing, at Lucky’s place, next to Tessa’s on Whisper Falls Road.
“You’re Tessa’s cute little friend, right?” he asked.
Huh. So maybe she was cute. Only—wait, Duke thought she was cute? She wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or frightened.
“Um, right,” she managed, picking up her pace a little as she moved past him.
He stopped, gave his head a tilt. “Where ya runnin’ off to, cutie?”
Oh dear. “I . . . just need to get something from my car.”
“Need help?”
Sheesh—Lucky’s intimidating biker buddy had to pick now to be chivalrous? Why did guys keep offering to help her today when—of all times ever—she really needed to be left alone?
“No—I’m good, thanks.” She pointed toward the party. “Lucky and Tessa are over there.”
“Okay then,” he said, looking amused, as if he thought he made her nervous. And on a normal day, yes, of course he would have been making her nervous. But today—nope, she already had enough to be uncomfortable about for one little comment from Duke Dawson to add to it.
Finally, Duke went on his way, so Amy did, too, and just when she’d reached Logan’s car, she heard Rachel call out, “Tessa said to hurry up, that she can’t keep Logan occupied all day—whatever that means.”
And Amy nearly leaped out of her skin. Spinning, she spouted, “Oh my gosh, where did you come from? Quit sneaking up on me like that.”
“Sorry,” Rachel said as she approached, looking as summer chic as ever in a sleek, silky dress and strappy platform shoes. “But what are you hurrying to do, and what is she occupying Logan for?”
“For crying out loud,” Amy murmured. She might have to kill Tessa now—if Tessa weren’t busy being such a good friend. And for the moment, all she could reply to Rachel was, “It’s a long story. Just please act like you don’t know anything for now.”
“That’ll be easy since I don’t. But I want to.” Her eyes dropped to the note card in Amy’s hand. “Like what that says and what you’re about to do with it.”
Sheesh. “Just walk away, Rachel,” she said quietly.
Rachel drew back, clearly stunned, since Amy never bossed anyone around—unless it had to do with matchmaking—and she certainly never did so while sounding as stressed as she surely did right now.
“I’m sorry, Rach,” she said then, working hard to sound nicer, more normal. “And I promise I’ll explain the next time I see you, okay? Right now I’m just . . . on a mission. And it’s important. And I don’t have time to tell you the whole long, pathetic story. Fair enough?”
Rachel still wore an odd expression, like she was wondering what slightly crazy person had invaded Amy’s body. Amy was actually beginning to wonder that herself, too. But finally Rachel said, “Sure. Fair enough. Good luck on your mission.” Then, when Amy least expected it, a small smile turned up the corners of Rachel’s mouth. “I must admit, Amy, you have me intrigued. And that might be a first. I like it.”
Amy watched as Rachel turned and sashayed back across the orchard to where the party was still going on without her, and when finally—at last—she was convinced she was alone, she sidled up alongside Logan’s car and slipped the rose-laden note card beneath the windshield wiper, just like before.
Okay, there. It was done. Step 2. Note 2. It upped the stakes. At least if Logan ever found out it was from her. And . . . well, if nothing else, she supposed it—again—let him know there was someone else out there who wanted him besides Anna Romo.
And as she headed back toward the wedding shower, she realized she was sweating like crazy and her heart was beating as fast as if she’d just run a race.
God, this being-in-love business was grueling.
After lunch but before gifts and cake, Logan found himself si
tting beneath a shade tree with Anna in a couple of white Adirondack chairs. If it was possible, he thought maybe she looked even more striking today than the other times he’d seen her. For a woman going through so much, he admired how comfortable she appeared in her own skin. Especially when she began to tell him more about the troubles plaguing her.
“It’s so amazing to find out I have this big, wonderful, loving family, but . . . it’s a lot to take in. It’s what I came here for, sure, but Mike . . .” Then she stopped, shook her head.
And Logan couldn’t help feeling a little troubled—on Mike’s behalf. “What about him?” he asked cautiously.
“Well, he hovers,” she said. “In fact, he’s watching me right now, from over by the barn. See?”
Logan looked, and sure enough, even as Mike chatted with shower guests, his glance kept shifting in their direction.
“Here we are, at his wedding shower, and all he can think about is me?”
Logan couldn’t help taking up for his buddy. “It’s not really too surprising if you think about it. I mean, he’s literally been looking for you since he was twelve. He’s gonna hover for a while, Anna. Just be patient.” The fact was—it would be hard for Anna to know what Mike had gone through, the guilt and self-torture he’d suffered. But Logan didn’t figure Anna needed more of those reminders heaped on her right now.
“I get that. But I’m kind of . . . an independent woman, you know? I’m used to doing my own thing, my own way. I’ve had to. Because I grew up kind of fast—because of my mom’s problems.”
“You guys will work it out,” he promised her. And he meant it. He wanted her to feel reassured.
Yet she only shrugged. “I hope so. But I’m actually . . . well, not the most patient person in the world.”
And when he caught the look she was giving him then—something flirtatious and expectant in her dark eyes—he wondered if she was talking about Mike now, or him. Was she waiting to be asked out? Kissed?