The first time I met Ricky was at the weekly support group. One of the goals was to build a strong support system around each child. The older ones help the younger ones. Adult mentors help the older kids. I had been a mentor for the past two and a half years. I remember walking into the room and immediately spotting Ricky sitting in a chair alone in the corner. He looked as if he had just landed on an alien planet.
I took a chair over and sat next to him. No eye contact was made, each of us stared straight ahead like two strangers at the DMV. We simply watched as the room filled with other kids around his age. At one point, Cindy, who was the counselor for the group, looked over and saw that Ricky and I were just fine where we were. As the group started I took a chance.
Leaning slightly in his direction, I whispered, “This place is so weird.”
His response was nothing more than a slow nod of his head, but it was a response.
“My mom said my dad’s not coming home,” Ricky whispered.
“It sucks saying goodbye to someone you love.”
“But he promised me he would be back.”
“I bet he did everything he could to keep that promise.”
A slight shoulder shrug was his only response.
“I remember when my parents died, I thought everyone was lying to me,” I said. “It didn’t seem real for a long time.”
His big brown eyes looked up at me. “When did it start feeling real?”
“I’ll let you know when it happens.”
We went back to staring at the group.
“It’s hard to understand now, but it does get easier. At some point the bad memories get replaced with the good ones. Then one day, you’ll realize what a strong young man you are because of your dad.”
“I want him to be proud of me.”
“Little dude, I’m sure he is.”
I knew then that Ricky would make it through his devastation.
Even though he had come a long way since we first met, he was still a little on the shy side. Getting Logan’s undivided attention had the little guy smiling and laughing, two things I had not yet seen him do. There was no way Logan was capable of putting on that good of an act.
The morning session went by in a flash. Since the afternoon sessions were after lunch I had some time to kill. While lunch was being prepared, I slipped out the back door of the kitchen and snuck back to my cabin unnoticed. Once safe inside I wasted no time. I kicked off my sandals and sat cross-legged on my bed with phone in hand. I had some Googling to do.
The first few items that came up were articles about Logan’s football achievements. Apparently, his big man on campus status followed him all the way through college. He was currently single. That was one point for him. He had graduated from college and law school with honors. He was one of the founding partners at Heath and Tate Law firm that specialized in business procurement mediation. The rest of the search was mainly about business achievements. And one fun little tidbit: Logan Heath was named Most Eligible Southern Gentleman of 2016 and 2018. Wonder what the deal was in 2017?
I scrolled through a couple more pages, but nothing significant caught my eye. I tossed my phone aside and leaned back against the headboard. My head was swimming with all kinds of plot twists and turns. Then it occurred to me how fast I was to mistrust Logan. If I looked at things logically, he really hasn’t misled me. I knew some of my resistance was simply a knee-jerk reaction due to my experience with John. It took a long time before I believed in myself.
Why did I think there was no way a guy like Logan would ever be interested in me unless he had ulterior motives? Maybe, just maybe, he had given up his pursuit of the bakery and changed to a pursuit of me. That was a legit possibility. He hadn’t mentioned Harper or the bakery since we’d been here. He could have brought the subject up last night when we were gorging on cheese and fruit.
Sure, I was not a refined southern belle, but I had manners. I was quirky, but fun. I didn’t graduate with honors, but I was savvy and smart. I did not know how to cook, but I baked, and there was always takeout. My business may have been failing, but I loved what I did and was brave enough to take a chance. I may not have been beautiful… Fuck that. I was beautiful. I took great care of my skin, never wore makeup to bed. My eyes were bright, even with contacts. My oral hygiene was impeccable. I had some cupcake curves, but I loved them. I was a catch. Logan Heath would be damn lucky to have me.
When it was time for my afternoon sessions, I walked out of my cabin toward the dining hall with a renewed self-confidence. My plan was to straight up ask Logan if he was interested in me or just buttering me up for my bakery.
The first afternoon session came and went with no Logan. Each time the door opened my heart leaped into my throat, thinking it would be him. But as the afternoon wore on and he was a no show, his motives became crystal clear. Maybe he was starting to have real feelings for me and the guilt got to him. I knew this outcome was more than likely. They didn’t call him The Closer for nothing. He said it himself the very first day he had stepped into the bakery. And I had been constantly reminding myself that if he was using me, I would be disappointed. What I did not anticipate was the intensity of the heartbreak.
After loading up the van, I drove over to my cabin to get my overnight bag. Tonight everyone would gather and celebrate the last night of camp with food, music, and dancing. It was a casual and fun event. In the morning at sunrise a nondenominational service would be held in the chapel, then a brunch before the kids headed home. Usually, I stayed for both events, but I didn’t feel much like having fun. I just wanted to get home, curl up in my bed, and binge watch something. Anything to get my mind off this weekend. I had just zipped up my bag when there was a knock at the door.
When I opened it, Cindy was standing on the porch all smiles until she saw me packed up.
“Where are you going?”
“Home,” I said attempting to smile.
“You can’t go! We have the dance tonight and the service tomorrow. Lip, you always stay for those things.”
“I know, but—”
Leaning toward me, she said in a loud whisper, “I don’t mean to pry, but does this have anything to do with Logan?”
I love when people announce they don’t mean to pry and then they do. It’s not like they don’t have control over their own words.
“A little,” I said.
“I noticed his absence this afternoon. I’m not a gossip or one to tell tales out of school…”
Bu-u-ut.
“Samantha said Eric told her the last time he saw Logan, Logan didn’t look happy. I figured that’s why he wasn’t at the final sessions. Did something happen between y’all?”
“Not really.”
“Because Samantha also said Eric told her that Logan was asking all kinds of questions about you.”
My ears perked up. “What kind of questions?”
“Samantha did not specify. I assume questions any guy would ask when he’s smitten with a girl.” Her head tilted to the side as she knowingly winked at me.
The problem was Logan was not any guy. He was the guy that would stand to profit from the sale of my bakery.
“I really should get back home,” I said.
Cindy placed her hands on my shoulders. “You have had a long day and worked very hard. You deserve some fun. Besides, everyone will miss you, and Ricky will be heartbroken.”
Damn, she was good.
“Now get back in there and get ready for tonight. I won’t hear another word about it.” Cindy spun me around and gently shoved me back inside my cabin. “I’ll be back in an hour and we can walk to the dance together.”
An hour later, as promised, Cindy was back at my door, looking adorable in her sleeveless pale green floral print dress. We could not have looked more different. I opted for my white swing dress with black polka dots, a long black cardigan, and my black zip up booties. I left my hair down and kept my makeup simple. The only jewelry I had on were a pair of diamon
d teardrop earrings that belonged to my mother.
“Lip, you’re so gorgeous, you should be a model.”
“Thank you. And you are a breath of spring.”
“I do feel a little fresh tonight.” Cindy giggled. “But seriously, I’m glad you stayed.”
“Me too. Thanks for convincing me.”
Walking to the dance, Cindy and I talked about an upcoming fundraiser for Bridges. I appreciated her not bringing up Logan. She had an uncanny sense of timing when it came to hard conversations. As we got closer, the sound of “Carolina Girl” by General Johnson and the Chairman of the Board filled the night air. I loved that they only played music inspired by the south and local bands from the Charleston area.
Cindy and I sauntered through the door, our hands in the air, fingers snapping, and hips swaying. Our dance routine was met with whoops and hollers. Once I saw my friends and the kids, I was so happy I was here. I would deal with the real world Monday.
I chatted with some people I only saw during camp, making my way to the food tables. It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten all day and I was starving. I picked up a plate and made my way down the line, grabbing an assortment of little sandwiches, chips and dip, and a brownie. Then I saw them. Two platters filled with cheese and fruit. Logan made good on his promise. I felt a twinge in my chest.
I found a spot in a corner and was scarfing down a tiny chicken salad sandwich when I noticed Ricky leaning against the opposite wall. He looked a bit lost as people mingled around him. I shoved the brownie in my mouth—it was a very small square. I put my plate down and made my way across the room. I was halfway to Ricky when “I Only Wanna Be With You,” by Hootie and the Blowfish blasted through the speakers.
Squatting in front of my little friend so we would be eye level, I said, “This is my favorite song.”
“Hootie is my favorite band,” he said.
“Well then, there’s only one thing to do.”
“What?”
“Dance!” I extended my arm and Ricky took my hand.
We got in the middle of the floor and let loose. Ricky tried to teach me the floss dance. Soon Cindy and Eric joined us. We were being silly and probably looked ridiculous, but none of us cared.
I was in deep lip sync mode when I looked over Cindy’s shoulder. A pair of bright blue eyes stared back at me. Logan. He was back in his black tuxedo pants and white button down shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. By his expression he was enjoying the silliness. The song ended and was replaced by the acoustic version of the uber romantic ballad, “I’ll Be,” by Edwin McCain.
The kids immediately evacuated the dance floor, leaving only the adults. People were coupling up. And there I was smack dab in the middle. Alone. Logan confidently made his way toward me, never losing eye contact. When he was in front of me, he wrapped one arm around my waist, took my hand in his, and pulled me into his chest. And I let him do it all without protest. We stayed like this for several seconds, Logan holding me and me letting him.
Leaning down, he placed his forehead against mine, causing my breath to quicken. As we slowly swayed, his lips brushed mine. The people in the room faded away and the music became muffled. Logan and I were the only two people that existed in that moment. My eyes fluttered closed as I concentrated on the feel of him. Giving my hand that was pressed to his chest permission, I slid it up to his shoulder. It wasn’t enough. I had to feel more of him. I played with the collar of his shirt, summoning up the courage before slipping my hand inside, and behind his neck. At my touch Logan’s steady breath paused for a second.
“Lip,” he whispered.
“You’re still here.”
“That I am.”
“Why?”
“You.”
And your bakery.
As hard as I tried to push them away, my doubts and apprehension wouldn’t leave me alone. Suddenly, the walls closed in and the air was suffocating. My head pounded as I felt the tears build. I had to get out of there and clear my thoughts. I let go of Logan’s hand and pushed away from him. My gaze stayed glued to the floor as I sprinted away.
THE COOL NIGHT AIR was a welcome relief. I wasn’t sure where I was going. I just kept walking, eventually ending up on the beach. I slipped off my booties and held them as I continued down the shore. I needed to shake off the effects of Logan. My thoughts and emotions were scattered all over the place.
My head screamed that the one and only reason Logan came back into my life was to convince me that selling the bakery was in my best interest. That letting it go would be easy if only I’d sign on the dotted line. Harper Investments could move forward and I could move along. It was as if my mind refused to let me even consider moving the bakery to another location. Logan didn’t understand. He wasn’t asking me to give up just a tiny hole-in-the-wall building that had been long forgotten by everyone. He was asking me to sever the sentimental attachment Wavy has had to this place since she was fourteen years old.
I tried to keep focused on what my head told me, but my heart was drawn to him. I fell under his spell at the drop of a hat. It would be so easy if Logan were just a pretty face and a great body. I could live out my high school fantasy with a fling and be done with him. But Logan was so much more than a gorgeous man on the outside. He had so many layers—kindness, pain, empathy, and caring. He had depth and was a good man. That’s why I let him feed me strawberries, and that’s why it was so easy to melt into his arms on the fucking dance floor.
I didn’t know how long I had been walking aimlessly when I heard the sound of heavy breathing: it was Logan, jogging toward me. Grabbing my arm, he spun me around to face him.
“What’s going on, Lip?” he panted.
Tears were building behind my eyes, but I promised myself I would not let him see me cry. I didn’t want him to know how much I cared.
“You tell me.”
“You gotta give me more than that, Slugger. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Shrugging out of his grasp, I said, “Why are you here?”
“I told you. I’m here because of you.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes. You intrigue me.”
“Be specific.”
Logan turned and took a few steps away from me. Raking his fingers through his hair, he groaned at the ocean.
After a few seconds of silence, he faced me. “You are the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met.”
I tilted my chin in defiance. “Yeah? Well, fuck you.”
The look of frustration quickly morphed into a smile accompanied by loud laughter.
He moved toward me. “You want me to be specific? I like how you’re uncompromising. I like your humor. I like your intelligence. I like how you stand up for what you believe in. I like that you are your own person. I like how much you care about other people. I like your generosity and selflessness. I like how you make me laugh. I like how you challenge me. I like how you excite me. And I like how all of the above is wrapped up into one incredibly sexy beautiful package. Is that specific enough for you?”
His words and passion left me breathless. It had never happened to me before, but this had to be what being swept off your feet felt like.
“What about my bakery?” My response was automatic.
“Are you insane? I’d like to know before I get even deeper into you.”
“I watch Dateline.The handsome con man flashes his megawatt smile and female’s insides turn all gooey. Then before you know it he’s made off with everything she owns, plus her heart.”
“Have I once mentioned business in the past day and a half?” he said.
“No. But that’s how you lull your marks into trusting you. You seduce, then attack.”
“Lip, I do want to seduce and attack you.”
“It’s talk like that, that—”
“That what?” He sidled up to me, penetrating my personal bubble.
“Causes my knees to wobble.”
“I called Ha
rper this afternoon and told him there’d be no deal to buy you out.”
Now it was my turn to look shocked. “Really?”
Logan raised his hand and cupped my face. “Really.” Gliding his thumb over my cheek, he continued. “Lip, the minute you threw me out of your bakery I knew I was in trouble. When I found out you were the same girl from high school…I don’t believe in coincidences. By the time we arrived here yesterday I knew I wasn’t going to try and convince you to sell.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
His body heat washed over me, warming every part of my body.
“Lip, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
“Is that a trick question? Because if I say yes, I know I’m easy on the eyes, you’ll think I’m a conceited, superficial bitch. But, if I say, no, I’m nothing to write home about, you’ll think I’m insecure. But I’m not insecure. I mean, I have moments, we all do—”
Before I knew what was happening Logan slid one hand behind my neck then the other to the small of my back. All up in my business, his lips were on mine in a flash. Coaxing them apart took no effort. I opened wide, allowing his tongue right in there. He. Ate. Me. Up. I felt hot pulsations all over my body. My hands dove into his dark hair, latching on for dear life.
Logan slipped the hand from my neck, down my side, and landed it on my hip. The feel of his grip on my body sent my hormones into overdrive. I wanted to experience every inch of his body. At the same time, my hands didn’t want to leave his hair and my lips didn’t want to leave his mouth. Logan freed my lips then proceeded to nibble his way to my jawline, behind my ear, and down my neck. My fingers dug into his shoulders as the feel of his mouth overwhelmed me.
Working his magic in the curve between my neck and shoulder, Logan, whispered, “That was earth shattering.”
“I think the heat from our bodies just added to the global warming situation.”
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