Lucky Ball

by Lisa N. Paul

“What is that?” Logan pointed at the protein bar and bottle of water Wren slipped out of her purse as they left the building. Tension was thick in his tone and his movements.

  “It’s my lunch. My turn. What were you doing at my work? And you’re on a first-name basis with my bosses? No one calls them Marvin and Clara. Who are you, Logan Enders?”

  Pointing at Wren’s hands, Logan opened his mouth as if to speak then closed it. He rubbed his hand over his freshly shaved jaw. “That is not lunch. It’s a snack.”

  “It’s what I have time for.”

  “No, it’s what you allowed to happen to you.” Rubbing at his jaw again, he inhaled and stopped walking. “You asked what I was doing at your work. I came to take you to lunch. There’s no way I could wait until Saturday night to see you, so I called Marvin to ask what time your break was. He invited me over to visit with him and Clara before I saw you.”

  Unable to piece together what he was saying, Wren said, “That still doesn’t explain how you know them.”

  “Just so you know, I’m keeping track of these questions, Lucky. As soon as I’m done answering yours, you will be answering mine. Understand?”

  Thinking ahead to what he might ask, a pang of nervousness zipped through her as she nodded.

  “Good. I’ve known your bosses since the first year I opened Shades of Music. Their grandchildren were two of my first students. Clara and Marvin were big on bringing the kids to lessons even though they only sat out in the lobby and waited until the lesson was over.”

  Wren knew all too well how dedicated her bosses were as both parents and grandparents. Hell, they treated her with love and respect and she was just an employee.

  “Anyway,” Logan continued, “after the first concert our school put on, Marvin came to me, shook my hand, and told me to count on him for donations for the next show. I thanked him and laughed it off, but sure as shit, two sizable checks came in a couple of months later. One was from the Haydens as a personal donation, and one was from Under Your Wears as a company sponsorship. Even though their grandchildren are no longer age eligible for the program, their checks come in every year.”

  Wren could have been knocked over with a feather. “Wow.”

  “You didn’t know they were that generous?” Logan cocked his head to the side as if unable to imagine someone questioning their kindness.

  “No, it isn’t that,” Wren answered quietly. “They’ve invited me to go to those concerts multiple times over the years, and I never went.” You could have met Logan sooner, you fool.

  “Music not your thing?”

  She knew the question was a throwaway, since they had discussed her love of music the first two nights they met.

  “Or did you have little round messages telling you to stay home those nights?” he asked.

  Damn, but he has me figured out. Evade. Evade. Evade. “You just asked three questions, you know. Is that really the information you wanted from me?”

  “I know, and yes. And just so you know, you just asked me two more.” He winked. A glint of humor finally returned as a smirk kicked up on his full lips. “Listen, I came by to spend a little time with you during your lunch break. As much as it pissed me off hearing the way that guy treated you, it was just as disturbing to know that you allowed such behavior to occur. That said, I have no doubts that Marvin will handle the situation appropriately, and if Clara doesn’t agree with the outcome, she will absolutely rectify it.” Logan’s grin morphed into a knowing smile. “That woman is no nonsense.”

  “No kidding!”

  All signs of Logan’s previous tension disappeared. “So I brought you something since I thought we’d be eating in the lunchroom. Oooh, look at you all beaming and excited,” he teased. “Someone likes treats. I’ll still give it to you, but instead of that sad-looking protein bar, would you allow me to take you out to lunch instead?”

  “Yes,” Wren answered immediately.

  Logan blinked. “Yes?”

  “I’d love to go to lunch with you.” She giggled. “So about this treat…”

  *

  How it was possible to go from livid to lighthearted in the span of fifteen minutes, Logan would never understand, but that was exactly what had happened. His intention had been to surprise Wren at work, and he had definitely succeeded. Witnessing the arrogant son of a bitch trying to steamroll over her hadn’t been part of the plan. But just as abruptly as his anger had built was how quickly it diffused the moment they got back to being them.

  Lighthearted banter and quick-witted humor was what he had come to expect from her. But the way she looked at him as if just maybe he hung the moon—yeah, that tugged at something inside. The fact that she didn’t hesitate, not even for a second, when he asked her to go for lunch was enormous. She may not have realized it, but the significance wasn’t lost on him.

  With her hand tucked in his, they strolled through the parking lot as if the cold weather didn’t exist. “How about if I drive, and I’ll bring you back here afterward to get your car?”

  “Sure. Sounds good,” she said.

  Logan bleeped the locks on the navy Ford Explorer, cautiously waiting for her response to the alternate means of transportation.

  “Thank you,” she said as he opened her door and helped her into the passenger seat. When she pulled the seat belt across her body, he closed the door and walked over to his side.

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious about why I’m driving this truck instead of the sports car from yesterday?” God, Enders, you sound like a spoiled asshole.

  “I believe I already made it clear I don’t care what you drive. What I appreciate is that when it has doors, you open them for me.” Her brow arched, humor glittering in her blue eyes. “Not to mention, I didn’t want to ask about it, you know, since you’re keeping tabs on my questions and all.”

  Laughter, his and hers, filled the cab. The sound was brilliant, musical, addictive.

  “I use this truck for work,” he found himself explaining. “A sports car isn’t practical for lugging music equipment from venue to venue.”

  “Makes perfect sense to me.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, an innocent gesture that, coming from her, looked anything but innocent. “You must work really hard to afford both vehicles. Good for you.”

  In the past, dollar signs were visible in the eyes of the women he dated the minute they knew he had money. Never once had any of them associated his wealth with hard work. Therefore, even if he was interested in seeing them again, their ignorance toward why he couldn’t drop everything on a whim to be with them was exhausting. More than once he’d heard, “You’re rich. Take time off.” Comments like those extinguished any spark. Of course, once again, Wren was different. She saw luxury and knew it didn’t come by magic. It seemed as though small things made her happy, and he wanted to do nothing more than make her very, very happy.

  “Here.” Logan reached into the back and picked up a cup holder that contained three disposable cups. “They probably aren’t hot anymore, sorry. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”

  Humor left Wren’s face immediately as her lips parted before she covered her mouth. “What is this?”

  “I stopped at Stella’s on my way here. I wasn’t sure which of the fancy coffees you would have chosen today… so I got you both.”

  Her rounded eyes drifted to the third cup.

  “That one is my plain old boring black coffee,” he teased. “Stella told me you didn’t stop in this morning, so I got you a blueberry muffin as well.” He hadn’t sampled the muffin, but he would be willing to bet it didn’t taste as good as the small pink tongue gliding across Wren’s bottom lip.

  “I-I can’t believe you did all of this.”

  If he felt any taller, he’d no longer be able to fit in his truck. “It was nothing, beautiful. I just wanted to see you smile. Fancy coffee and muffins seem to do the trick.”

  Leaning close, Wren pressed her cool palm to his cheek. “You’re wrong, Logan. It
was everything, and it isn’t the fancy coffee that makes me smile. It’s the man I share it with.”

  “Fuck, woman.” Logan’s cock stiffened as images of sharing more than just caffeinated beverages invaded his mind.

  “The cups aren’t marked.” Wren frowned as she pulled the first one from the holder.

  “I know.” He had convinced Stella to leave them blank even though the barista disagreed. “Either take a sip from each or choose one and toss the other. Whatever works for you. We’re going to lunch anyway, right?”

  “Right.” Wren took a sip from the first cup. “Mmm, toffee mocha. That is amazing. I love everything toffee.”

  She placed the cup back in the holder. Logan watched in amusement as she moved her fingers over the second cup. As if coming to a difficult conclusion, her face softened, and she reached into her bag and pulled out the FEB. Logan would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit disappointed.

  “Should I try the peppermint latte?”

  –Most Likely–

  Lifting the cup to her lips, Wren took a sip. Her hands immediately covered her mouth as she coughed. “That was very pepperminty.”

  Good. “That toy isn’t always right, babe.”

  Coughing again, Wren shook her head and took what appeared to be a small sip. “I disagree. I like the latte—I do—it’s just strong.”

  Stubborn woman. “You could have figured that out on your own. Why did you need the ball’s permission?”

  “It leads me in the right direction, Lo.” She stared at the ebony plastic. “I don’t expect anyone to understand.”

  Desperate to return to the fun vibe, Logan changed the subject. “I’m starving. How about you pick our lunch destination?” He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I have a couple of hours before I need to head in to work. Then I’m meeting with the guys to rehearse later tonight. Our next show is less than two weeks away.”

  “I know that practice makes perfect and all, but it’s hard to imagine you being any better than you were the other night.”

  Moving the coffee drinks to the floor, Logan kept his eyes on hers. “Ms. Jamison, was that your way of complimenting me and asking to come to the next show without actually asking for an invite?” Her Cheshire cat look made him laugh again. “You are a tricky, beautiful thing.” He leaned over and touched his lips to hers. The sweet smell of the flavored coffee mixed with her unique scent and threatened to overtake his logic. “You’re not invited to the show, Lucky.” He cupped her head before she could move away. “You’re with me now. So you’re part of it.”

  She softened against him, “Your girl, huh? That’s what you called me back in the factory.”

  His lips moved to her forehead. “I thought we weren’t playing games with each other.”

  “We aren’t.”

  “Then you know damn well that you’re mine.” When her eyes darted from his to the console, he knew immediately the thought that had crossed her mind. “Eyes, babe.” Reluctantly, her blues rose to his. “It’s been that way since the night you kissed me and dissed me. You just didn’t know it then. Know it now.”

  A slow, genuine smile broke over her face as she nodded. “Bossy, huh? Is that your way of asking me to be yours without using a question?”

  He snorted his confirmation before planting a kiss on her forehead.

  “All of that heart-to-heart stuff and I only get a head kiss? That kind of sucks, Lo.”

  God, his dick was just as unhappy as she was. “Lucky, trust me, the things I want to do to you should not be done in my truck in the parking lot of where you work. Not to mention…” His hand touched her knee and slowly made its way up her thigh, sliding to the center but not close enough to the juncture where they met. Her shallow breath told him exactly what he needed to know. The electricity between them was jolting her as well. “What I want to do with you takes time. Time I do not have today.” He moved his hand to the gearshift, more than a little satisfied to hear the disappointment in her exhale. “Patience, Lucky, I promise I won’t let you down.”

  Now if only his cock would go down sometime before they exited the truck, he’d be grateful.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Just Can’t Bring Myself To Do It

  After three shakes of the ball, a restaurant was selected, leaving Wren to sit back and relax as Logan drove them to the Panera Bread Company in the next town over. The radio was set to a pop station. While not exactly tone-deaf, Wren knew she wouldn’t win any awards for her vocal talent, but that didn’t stop her from belting out the lyrics to the songs that played. She had to give Logan credit. Even though his body quaked and his lips pulled tight together as they twitched, hiding the smile that no doubt wanted to break through, he did not make so much as a peep as she sang. That was, until she shrieked out a note so vile even she had to laugh.

  “Come on!” Logan stopped the car in the middle of the empty street and turned to face her. “No one can be that bad a singer. It sounds like you’ve gotten progressively worse as we’ve been driving.”

  With the jig finally up, Wren giggled. “Geez, I was wondering how damn bad I’d need to be before you said something.”

  As if the information clicked into place, Logan nodded and continued the drive.

  “Seriously, you are one patient man.”

  “You have no idea.” He chuckled. “My job is to find the talent in people and help them refine it. At first, I thought maybe you just weren’t that good, but the longer it went on, I thought I might suffer permanent damage from listening to your wails. Shit, Wren, that was some badass screeching.”

  She giggled. “I admit, I definitely added some zest to my natural singing suckage, but can you blame me? Not everyone can sound like a god every time they open their mouth.”

  “Hmm, every time, huh?”

  “Gah… you know what I mean. You sing like a dirty sexy rock star. That’s why women fell all over themselves when they saw you.” Wait, did Logan Enders just blush? No, must be the glare from the traffic light. “Admit it, you know it’s true.”

  The light turned green, prompting him to go. “I love singing, and performing is fun. But being a rock star isn’t something I aspire to be. Never was. So having women fall all over me, as you so articulately put it, isn’t something I care about. Now, you falling all over me… that’s a different story.”

  “I’m mushy.”

  “I’m the opposite.”

  Her eyes darted to his lap. He was, in fact, the opposite, which made her mushier.

  “That wasn’t the least bit stealthy,” he said in a hoarse voice as he pulled into a parking spot. “Maybe you could sing another song or two. That should help it go down quickly,” he teased.

  Leaning over, she rubbed her hand over the length of his jean-covered erection. His eyelids fluttered closed as a low moan rumbled in his chest.

  “Making fun of a girl’s talents isn’t very nice, Mr. Enders. ‘Specially when she has plenty you haven’t even seen yet.” She pulled her hand back and hopped out of the truck before Logan had the chance to open his eyes and see the blush that colored her cheeks. God, the man made her bold, wild with want, and excited to experience all kinds of things.

  A thick arm snaked around her waist just before she opened the door to the restaurant.

  “When you touch me like that”—Logan’s warm breath tickled her ear—“it makes me want to lay you down and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.” He kissed her neck. “But when you say those dirty things…” He bit her earlobe. “Lucky, you are not the only one with unseen talents. You may not remember your name, but you will be screaming mine.” As casually as if she were a stranger, he smiled, opened the door, and followed her into Panera.

  She was going to need a change of panties along with her lunch.

  With only a small table between them, Wren dipped her spoon into the piping hot tomato soup. Panera was a good place for her to come because she always ate the same thing—no embarrassing FEB situation
s to ruin their date. She had explained the situation to Logan as they waited in line, and he seemed to take it all in stride. For that, she was not just grateful but relaxed.

  “Are you a vegetarian?” he asked, pointing at the crusty bread that accompanied her soup.

  “No, what makes you ask?”

  Logan finished the bite of sandwich in his mouth before he answered. “You said this is one of your favorite places to have lunch and that you always eat the same thing. Tomato soup and bread. Pizza and fries yesterday.” He shrugged. “It was just a guess.”

  Breaking off a piece of bread and swirling it in the soup, Wren thought about his conclusion. It made sense. She popped the delicious morsel in her mouth then began a very complicated answer to what was a simple question.

  *

  “Being a vegetarian would be great,” she said, “if I liked vegetables.”

  Had he heard her correctly? She was eating tomato soup.

  She must have seen the confusion on his face because she clarified her statement. “If I liked more vegetables. Honestly, there are only about eight or so that I’ll eat, and even those need to be prepared in a certain way.”

  Perplexed, Logan took a large bite of his sandwich and let Wren explain her veggie discrimination.

  “For example, I love carrots, but I’ll only eat them raw. I love onions, but only if they’re grilled. Eggplant is a favorite of mine, but never sautéed.”

  The way her face squished up made Logan want to kiss the creases on the bridge of her nose. However, he was so riveted by the things he was hearing that he held back.

  “Sautéed eggplant is slimy, whereas eggplant parmesan is divine. I love mushrooms, and I recently started enjoying tomatoes both cooked and raw.”

  That was a piece of information Logan found intriguing. “So you will try new things?”

  The spoon stopped halfway to Wren’s lips. “While I never say never, I do not like to be pressured into trying new foods.” Neither her tone nor her face held amusement, cementing the seriousness of the statement.

  “So you like some veggies but aren’t a vegetarian. Got it.”