Lip Smacker

by Bailey, Alison G.

  “With you? Absolutely.”

  I could feel the blush spread over my cheeks. To hide my girlie ways, I opened the van door and hopped out. Logan met me at the back of the van just as I was opening the door.

  “So, what’s going on here?” he said.

  I handed him a large box of supplies. “Bridges. It’s a camp for kids dealing with the death of a loved one.”

  A strange expression flashed over his face for a brief second. I wondered if it had to do with the “stuff” he went through back in high school. It was either that or he wanted to know how much I was getting paid for being here.

  I grabbed another box of supplies. “I’m one of the fun activities.”

  His gaze ran down my body. “I bet you are.”

  “And before you ask, I’m a volunteer,” I said as I passed him and headed toward the building.

  As I was unpacking, Logan came in the kitchen and sat the box he was carrying down next to mine.

  “Let’s get it over with.”

  He began emptying the box. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I made my voice as deep as possible, trying to mimic him. “Lip, I hope you at least charged for the supplies. I mean, you’re not making any money at the bakery since it’s closed. This just isn’t good business sense.”

  “Do I really sound like that?”

  Tilting my head to the side, I rolled my eyes.

  “So?”

  “So what?” he asked.

  Readying to defend myself, I draped my arm over the top of the box as my other hand found my hip. “No pearls of wisdom about paring down the supplies to be more cost effective?”

  “Jesus, Lip, I’m not coldhearted.” He leaned into me, putting us a mere inch apart. “I think what you’re doing is fantastic.”

  Shocked and a bit turned on, I cleared my throat. “Oh, okay then.”

  Logan ditched the tux jacket and tie before helping me finish unloading the van. Once back inside we organized the work stations. I couldn’t believe how willing he was to help out. There was nothing sexier than a man pitching in when it wasn’t required.

  “So, what’s the plan?” he said, placing mixing bowls around the large kitchen island.

  I was on the opposite side of the island arranging the utensils needed for later.

  “Tonight we bake!” I raised a bright orange spatula in the air. “For dinner they’ve scheduled a camp cookout. It frees up the kitchen, so I can take my time setting everything up. Each station will have a teenager and one of the younger kids. The older kids are great at helping the little ones. Tomorrow is full with three decorating sessions in the dining hall. Then we eat cupcakes!”

  Logan chuckled at my enthusiasm. “You really like cupcakes, don’t you?”

  “I like the good memories they create, especially for kids going through a difficult time. It gives them a little break from the heartache.”

  Logan looked at me with warmth and respect flooding his eyes. A bad case of goose bumps began exploding over my skin and for a moment I let my mind wander.

  We were on a beach. Logan was shirtless and wearing a pair of well-worn jeans. I wore a bright pink string bikini. Wait. Scratch that. It’s not proper to show too much skin on a first beach fantasy. Maybe a one piece? No, no, no. I’m not my grandmother. I got it! A pair of denim booty shorts and a tank top with a bikini top underneath. That’s more my style.

  He was standing in front of me. The waves were crashing. The sun was setting. The wind was blowing just enough to make my hair flutter. No words were spoken. We didn’t need them. Lifting his bulging, muscular arm, Logan’s hand landed gently on my cheek. The look in his eyes teetered between awe and lust. My body was on fire even though it was a comfortable seventy-five degrees.

  The tip of his tongue slid across his bottom lip as his tanned and toned chest expanded with each deep breath. Leaning in, he brushed his soft lips against mine. The scent of Christmas invaded my world. At first the kiss was gentle. But soon, unable to hold back his fierce passion any longer, his large hands took hold of my hips, pulling me into his chest. The tip of his tongue glided between my lips, pleading for full access into my mouth.

  No longer strong enough to deny my wanton desire, my lips parted, and I opened my mouth, giving my heart to him completely. Logan’s mouth ravished mine. The heat between our bodies was volcanic. My body didn’t just want him. My body needed him. Everywhere. Only his touch could give my loins the relief that they desperately called out for.

  Grabbing the waistband of his jeans, I held him steady as I rocked my hips against the rough hard zipper. Logan’s hands slipped down to my ass, kneading each cheek gently as if he were making a loaf of sourdough bread. My nails scratched their way up his naked chest, until they sunk deep into his dark hair. He unbuttoned my shorts and lowered the zipper. As one of his hands found my breasts, the other slid down into my shorts. Digging my nails deeper into his scalp, my back arched as Logan slipped one of his large fingers into my—”

  “Lip!”

  That’s right, baby. Scream my name.

  “Woot! Woot!”

  Oh, yeah. I’ll woot-woot your brains out.

  “Lip is in the house! Woot! Woot!”

  The faint sound of my name being called crashed into my dreamy erotic state.

  I blinked frantically to clear my head. When the fog lifted, Cindy, my friend and one of the camp counselors was charging toward me.

  “I’m so happy to see you!” she said, giving me a hug.

  “It’s…um…”

  I spotted Logan halfway across the room, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze focused on the floor, with just a hint of red on his face. Not only was he startled, he was embarrassed that we got caught being mesmerized by each other.

  A-dorable.

  “Ooo, who is this?” Cindy cooed.

  “This is my… Logan. Cindy, Logan. Logan, Cindy,” I babbled.

  Logan stepped forward, extending his hand to Cindy. I stared as they shook hands as if it were the most fascinating thing I had ever seen.

  “Li-i-ip, you’ve been keeping secrets. So, Logan, I hope you’ll be staying with us the entire weekend.” Cindy winked knowingly.

  My eyebrows shot up my forehead while my intestines twisted. “Oh, no—”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” Logan interrupted.

  “See, he wasn’t planning on it.” I relaxed a little bit.

  “I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  Cindy waved her hand dismissively. “Oh poo, I’ll get you set up with one of the male counselors. You look similar in size to Eric. Doesn’t he Lip?”

  My head was shaking back and forth so quickly I was worried about self-inflicted whiplash.

  “Not really,” I said to Cindy. Then I switched my attention to Logan. “You look nothing like Eric. Eric looks nothing like you. Two completely different guys.”

  “In fact, you can room with Eric.”

  Cindy must have had an inner ear infection. She completely ignored my analysis of her preposterous comparison between Logan and Eric. These two had only one thing in common, if you know what I mean. And I am not one hundred percent sure about Eric. I’d noticed some intense googly eye action between him and Paul, another counselor.

  Cindy’s gaze shifted from side to side as if making sure no one else was within earshot. “Unfortunately for you two, there’s no sanctioned coed situations allowed. But rumor has it, there are areas that are hidden from the view of unwanted spectators.”

  All the blood drained from my face. “We don’t need any sanctioned situation or hidden areas. Do we, Logan?”

  With his lips pursed in a smirk and his eyebrows raised, Logan shrugged his shoulders. He said nothing, but his reaction spoke volumes.

  “So, it’s all set. Yay!” Cindy bounced while excitedly clapping her hands.

  Never taking his eyes off of me, Logan said, “Then I’d love to stay.”

  “Logan, you can come with me.�
��

  “I’m helping Lip set up for tonight.”

  “No problem. Lip can come find me when y’all are done with your set up,” Cindy said, making air quotes around the two words.

  I narrowed my eyes toward her. “What’s with the air quotes? As you can plainly see, we are and have been setting up.”

  “I got ya. Nuff said.” Tilting her head and with her mouth open, she performed an exaggerated wink.

  A humorless chuckle came out of me in spurts. “What does that mean and why are you contorting your face in such a manner?”

  “Don’t fret, Lip. Y’all’s little secret is safe with me. Nuff said.”

  “I’m not fretting, we don’t have a secret, and stop saying nuff said. Logan, tell her there’s no secret.”

  “We do have a tiny secret,” he said.

  The traitor.

  “Cindy, did you know Lip and I went to high school together?”

  The churning in my gut subsided slightly.

  “Oh my gosh! And now you’ve reunited after all these years to rekindle what slipped through your teenage fingers.” Cindy’s expression turned wistful. “Y’all are a Hallmark and Lifetime movie rolled into one.”

  “First, it hasn’t been that many years since high school. Second, there’s no rekindling. There’s never been any kindling. Third, there’s no movie because there’s no story.”

  While I tried hard to dig myself out of this hole filled with lies and innuendos, Logan stood with his arms crossed and shoulders shaking as he tried to control his laughter.

  “You know, things are pretty much done here. Logan, it’s still early, I can drive you back to the reception.”

  “Absolutely not. I don’t want you wasting your time or your gas driving my ass all over the place.”

  “Then get yourself an Uber to take you home, and enjoy your weekend. There’s no sense in you being stuck out here,” I said with hope and desperation in my tone.

  “Nonsense.” Cindy waved her hand dismissively. “Logan, come on. I’ll introduce you to your roomie and you can change into a more appropriate outfit. Not that you don’t look dashing, because you do.” Like an EF5 tornado, Cindy whirled around and blew out of the door.

  I turned back to Logan. “You don’t have to do this. Rooming with a stranger and wearing his clothes is one thing. But what about underwear? You don’t want to wear a stranger’s underwear. I get the heebie-jeebies just thinking about your…um…uh…boys being in an unfamiliar neighborhood.” The words were falling out of my mouth a mile a minute before I could stop them.

  Hooking the tux jacket with his finger, Logan slung it over his shoulder and slipped his other hand into his pants pocket. With his familiar confident air, he walked toward me.

  “I’m touched by your concern for my boys, but don’t worry.” Stopping next to me, he leaned in so his mouth was right next to my ear. “I don’t wear underwear.”

  After dropping that bomb, he swaggered away, leaving me with visions of his sugarplums dancing unencumbered in my head.

  AN HOUR AND A half later the kitchen was filled with campers and the aroma of baking batter. Fortunately, the kitchen had two, large, restaurant-grade ovens that allowed several trays to bake at one time. Logan returned just before the kids took over the place. He was dressed in a pair of dark khaki cargo shorts, white tennis shoes, and a blue T-shirt with the Bridges logo on the front and counselor printed on the back across his broad shoulders. He didn’t look awkward or out of place. He looked like he was meant to be here.

  Logan showed no apprehension and dove right in, lending a helping hand when needed. He was a natural with the kids, making them laugh and initiating friendly rivalries over who could get their batter in the pans the fastest. I hated to admit it but I was glad he didn’t take my suggestion to leave. By the way the teen girls looked at him, hanging on every word that came out of his mouth, I wasn’t the only one who was happy Logan stayed.

  With the buzz of the oven timer, everyone suited up in oven mitts, and we formed a human conveyor belt. One by one the hot trays of cupcakes came out of the ovens and were placed on the quartz countertop of the large kitchen island. After helping clean up, the kids headed off to the campfire sing-a-long and marshmallow roast. As I watched the smiling faces leave the kitchen I felt a sense of pride and contentment. I may be a little indecisive with other aspects of my life, but I knew without a doubt I was meant to be here for these kids.

  I wiped down all the countertops while Logan loaded the dishwasher. We were alone again, only now I was acutely aware of his commando situation.

  “Dishwasher is good to go. What else do you need me to do?” Logan landed right next to me.

  Hug me, kiss me, and love me all over. Mother of God, Lip! Get a hold of yourself. I’d rather get a hold of Logan. Stop it!

  When I finished arguing with myself, I said, “We’re all done.”

  I balled up the rag and tossed it into the laundry hamper like a basketball player making a three point shot. Swish! Nothing but hamper.

  Logan looked impressed. “Nice shot.”

  “I got mad skills, yo.”

  “You do indeed.”

  My gaze bounced around trying not to get lost in his eyes, or land on his crotch, knowing a scrap of material was the only thing separating me from the land of good and evil.

  “Thank you for all your help,” I said.

  “I should be thanking you. I had a blast.”

  The room went silent. I couldn’t read Logan’s mind, but mine was flipping through plausible reasons for the two of us to hang out longer.

  My hands trembled, so I grounded them on my hips. “Sooo…”

  “You know what? We never ate supper. Are you hungry? Because I’m starving.”

  “I could eat. But there’s no restaurants close by.”

  “We’re standing in a kitchen. There has to be something around here that’s edible.”

  You.

  Opening cabinets, Logan began foraging for food. I didn’t join in right away because it was more fun watching him. Finally, I succumbed to the team spirit mentality and joined in the hunt. I had searched an entire wall of cabinets with no luck when my partner in crime made a discovery.

  “Score!” he said, standing in front of the open fridge.

  “Whatcha got?”

  Logan turned around with a wide smile, holding a fruit and cheese platter. He walked over to me proud as a peacock. Then he took off to the other side of the room, returning with two stools.

  He sat down at the counter in front of a large paned window and removed the lid from the platter. “Sit. Eat.”

  I hesitated, reminding myself that he was the enemy. It seemed to be very easy for me to forget that fact. Since I was tired and hungry, maybe it would be okay if I put my animosity aside for tonight. Tomorrow I could go back to my complete loathing of him.

  “This has to belong to someone, Logan,” I said as I hopped up onto the stool.

  “There’s another one in the fridge. I’ll make sure to replace this one first thing tomorrow.” He popped a square piece of orange cheese in his mouth.

  Sensing my apprehension, Logan picked up a big strawberry and held it up in front of me.

  “Come on, Lip, taste it. All the cool kids are doing it.” He smirked.

  My gaze swung from his face to the strawberry and back.

  “You promise you’ll replace the entire platter?”

  “At dawn’s early light.”

  I snatched the fruit from his hand and took a big bite. It was sweet, juicy, and exploded in my mouth.

  We ate in silence for several minutes. As the time ticked away I expected the awkwardness to set in, but it never did. Just the opposite. It was comfortable and exciting at the same time.

  Looking slightly sheepish, Logan, plucked a red grape and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. “Can I ask you something?”

  I nodded with a mouth full of Gouda. “Shoot.”

  “What made you choo
se Bridges?”

  I was taken aback by his question. Besides the short ride over here from the wedding reception, this was the first time we had been alone with no distractions. I had braced myself for him to hit me with the Harper offer spiel again. After all, that was why he invited himself along. I stalled by shoving a piece of pineapple in my mouth.

  “You don’t have to answer it if it’s too personal.” The sincerity in his expression bulldozed right through the ironclad wall.

  Looking past him, I said, “Both my parents were killed in a car accident four years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. They’d be extremely proud of the amazing woman you are.”

  Logan’s response shocked me more than his question. He looked at me with admiration and not pity. I adored that he did that. Whenever people found out about my parents, they always had so much pity in their eyes. I hated that look.

  “Thank you. When my grandparents first told me, I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t comprehend a world without them in it. Up until that point I hadn’t thought about or experienced death. Not even with a pet.”

  “I felt the same way when my baby sister died.” Logan’s voice was low, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to share this part of his life.

  My gaze jumped to his. The pain in his eyes was heartbreaking. I wanted to slide off of the stool and wrap my arms around him. But I restrained the urge.

  “What was her name?”

  “Mazie. She was eight years old when she died of leukemia. For two years she went through every treatment available. The last one was a bone marrow transplant. I still remember vividly my parents coming home after the doctor’s appointment, so excited and hopeful. My younger brother Josh, my parents, and I were all tested to see if any of us could be the donor.”

  I didn’t know when his family had been hit by this tragedy, but Logan’s sense of loss was palpable. Then it dawned on me. This was the “stuff” he had gone through in high school.

  “You were her donor,” I whispered unintentionally.

  When his gaze met mine, I knew I was right. Being caught up in the moment, I slid off of my stool and wrapped my arms around Logan. His arms automatically encircled me. We stayed in each other’s arms for several seconds, silently giving and receiving comfort.