He frowned. There was a subtext here he wasn’t getting. “You told me you don’t want to get married, so what...?”
She placed her hand on his chest. “That was before...” Swallowing, she shook her head. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, please?”
“That was before what?”
“Logan, please, just leave it...”
“No!” Trying to calm himself, he took a deep breath. He was fighting here, exactly what for, he wasn’t sure, but he if he left now without Charlie... It wasn’t something he was ready to think about. “No,” he said in a calmer voice. “Before what? What happened, damn it? Please tell me.”
She dropped her hands. “Before I...fell for you.”
“Fell for me?” His brain was struggling to make sense of the simple words.
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Yeah, I’ve gone and fallen in love with you. Even after you’ve told me I’m not your type. Your words hurt me so much—I should’ve known why—but I’ve only realized it now. And that’s why I can’t go away with you.”
Dumbfounded, he stared at her. She’d fallen in love with him. That was what she’d just said. In love. With him.
“Goodbye, Logan,” she whispered before she turned around and hurried out of the room.
“What have you done to my sister?” bellowed Gavin from the doorway.
Still stunned, Logan stared at the angry man and shook his head. “I haven’t... She...” But he was unable to string more than two words together. A tight band had fastened around his chest and was squeezing all the oxygen out of his lungs. He had to get some fresh air. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and quickly left.
He’d hurt her. She loved him. Loved him.
In his car, he texted his mother. He was going back to Seattle; there was a flight later that night. Space. He needed space and distance from this place to sort out his chaotic thoughts.
She couldn’t cry. Dry-eyed, Charlie stared at the ceiling. She loved Logan. Deeply, irrevocably, passionately. Even though she’d known he would hurt her. Damn it, he did hurt her, telling her she wasn’t his type, criticizing who she was, her clothes, her taste.
Within the span of eight days, she’d gone and lost her heart to a man who found fault with everything about her, but one who also made her feel things she hadn’t known were possible.
Ecstasy. That was what she’d experienced. Drug-free. And the reason was because for her, what had happened between them, hadn’t been just sex. She’d made love with him. With her body and hands and mouth, she’d told him how she felt, even though she hadn’t known it herself before today.
She’d never had this instant attraction to anyone before, but with Logan...
Turning on her side, she closed her eyes, hugging the pillow close to her. She’d have to get over him. Somehow. Life happened, things went awry at times, as she very well knew.
Maybe someday, she’d be able to tell Lindsay or Gavin’s kids about her one big love, the one who broke her heart.
And then the tears came. She buried her face in the pillow and sobbed her heart out. This falling-in-love business hurt, damn it.
Logan was still in shock when he opened the door to his apartment in Seattle much later that night. He dropped the keys onto the table next to the door and walked into his living room.
An interior decorator had put his ideas into practice, and the monochrome tones and clean lines had always soothed him when he got back home. But tonight the place looked bare. Cold. Lifeless. Charlie-less.
Minutes later, he was on the balcony, staring out over the city with a drink in his hand. She’d fallen in love with him. He was struggling to get his head around it. What the hell was love, anyway? Sex he understood, but love?
His parents had loved one another, he never doubted that. And Brooke and her husband had been seemingly happy before his untimely death, but that was the exception rather than the rule. Most of his colleagues or friends were either still single or divorced, and those who were still married made no secret of how unhappy they were. What kind of a life was that?
And why was he thinking about families—unhappy or otherwise? That was so not what he wanted in his life. Marriage meant messy—not something he’d ever considered.
Downing the glass, he walked back into the house. It was pure lust, that was all. He’d been in lust before—it would pass. His work kept him busy enough; marriage was not for him. He’d always known that.
He sent a message to let his mother know he was home. Within seconds she phoned. Damn it, he didn’t want to talk to her now, but he knew his mother. There was no knowing what she’d do if he didn’t answer a call from her.
“Mom, I’ve just sent you a message.”
“I don’t want a message; I want to talk to my son.”
He sighed. “There is nothing to talk about.”
“Of course, there is. One minute you and Charlie were going away to a cabin, and the next minute I get a message from you telling me you’re on your way back to Seattle.”
“Mom, seriously, it’s really none of your business, you know that, right?”
“What have you done?”
Exasperated he groaned. “I haven’t done anything, Mom. She...she...it simply didn’t work out. We’re too different.”
“Of course you are. That’s what all the great love stories have in common!”
“You read way too many love stories, Mom. I love you and Brooke dearly, but your lifestyles would drive me crazy within days and so would Charlie. She is...” He tried to think of something about her that bothered him but all he remembered was her laugh, the way her eyes darkened when they’d made love, and how perfectly she fitted against his body. “Well, she...doesn’t... It just can’t work.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Because quite frankly, I don’t think either of us are fooled.”
“Good night, Mom. I’ll talk to you soon.” Ending the call, he walked toward the big windows overlooking the city.
Great love stories? Trust his mother to come up with a corny line. At the moment he was hurt and upset, but by this time next week, all the craziness would be over.
But much later, when he lay on his bed in the dark, his hand kept straying to the empty place beside him. Damn, he missed Charlie.
Swearing, he switched on the light and picked up his phone. This was going to end right now. He probably needed to get out more. Date, have sex. Hadn’t he told himself that days ago? It was time to actually do something about it. He’d met a woman a couple of months ago at a friend’s house. What was her name again? Mandy? Sandy? The kind of woman he usually dated. They’d have a drink, enjoy a meal, talk about general things, and maybe have sex afterward. No complications, no messy feelings, no emotion. Quickly, he scrolled down the names on his phone.
Charlie. Her name was suddenly right there. For a long moment his finger hovered over it. What would she do if he called her now? Damn it to hell, he had to forget about her. She loved him and he...well, he didn’t want that. He’d already hurt her, she’d pointed out. It confirmed what he’d known all along—relationships were simply not something he was good at. Or wanted. Period.
Love and feelings were complications he could do without. Sex he could do. And there were plenty of women who were happy with that. There was no need to make everything so damn difficult.
He should remember what living with a free spirit meant—no rules, no boundaries, no order, no structure.
And in his line of work he needed structure and discipline, otherwise things wouldn’t get done. That was why he preferred women who dressed in muted colors and clean lines.
Quickly he found the name he was looking for and within minutes he had a date two weeks from now. Weekdays were impossible, he rarely got home before midnight and this coming weekend couldn’t work; he had several meetings scheduled.
Mandy. He tried to picture her, but a pair of clear blue eyes was preventing him from doing that.
Cursing, he swit
ched off the light. Soon, he’d have forgotten all about Charlie’s eyes. And the slope of her shoulders. And the jingling of those damn bangles.
His eyes closed. Roses. Why the hell was he smelling roses?
CHAPTER 13
Early Sunday morning, Charlie was wakened by a knock on her door. Probably Lindsay. Bleary-eyed, she raised herself on an elbow.
“Come on in,” she called out groggily and Lindsay and Gavin entered her room. Gavin was carrying a tray with coffee.
“You okay?” Lindsay asked, and sat next to her on the bed. “Did you get any sleep?”
Charlie rubbed her face. “A bit.” She held out her hands for a mug of coffee. “This smells so nice, thanks.”
Gavin also sat on her bed. “I should’ve given that bastard—” he began vehemently, but Charlie placed a soothing hand on his arm.
“He didn’t do anything wrong, Gavin. He was very honest about the fact that he wasn’t looking for anything permanent and neither am I, as you know. I’m hurting, yes, but it’ll pass. These things do. Have you decided when you’re going back to South Africa?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
Gavin’s frown didn’t quite clear but at least he answered her question. “In two weeks’ time, maybe. I’ve wanted to talk to the two of you about this. I’m thinking of also moving here to Alisson.”
Lindsay clapped her hands and hugged Gavin. “I was really hoping you’d fall in love with our little town. But what about your job back in South Africa?”
“Actually, even before you called about Mark Taylor’s message, I was talking to my partners back in Johannesburg about the possibility of moving here and working from here. With today’s technology it’s possible. I’ve really missed you guys. Maybe at some point, I’ll consider moving to a big city again and joining another firm. But for now, the peace and quiet of this little town has grown on me.”
“Seattle in Washington state is a little over an hour’s flight from Bozeman, so it’s quite close by,” Lindsay said. “Charlie has a meeting there in two weeks. I was going to join her, but when you arrived, I decided to stay here with you. But why don’t we all go? Surely you can wait a little longer before you fly back to South Africa? We can all have a lovely dinner Friday night and while Charlie has her meeting Saturday morning, you and I can explore the city.”
Charlie shook her head. “I don’t think I want to go anymore.”
But Lindsay was not going to change her mind. “You are not going to let Logan Johnson prevent you from doing something you’ve been excited about for months. It’s a big city—the chances of meeting him are practically nil.”
“It sounds great,” said Gavin.
Lindsay jumped up. “Cool—I’m going to book a flight for you, as well, Gavin. I’ve booked an apartment with beds for five people, according to the ad, so I think there’ll be somewhere for you to sleep.” She just about danced out of the room.
Gavin shook his head. “It will be good for her to get away. You sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’ll get there.” Charlie smiled. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to join us here. We’ve missed you so much. But...but about you and Sarah? I thought you guys were serious?”
Shrugging, Gavin stood up. “So did I. She didn’t.”
“So what...?”
But Gavin clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s over. That’s all there is to it. Come on, lazybones, I’m making breakfast.”
Relationships seemed to be hard for all three of them.
Charlie got out of bed.
On Monday morning, Charlie was in her rooms at eight o’clock. Her first appointment was at nine, but she needed to be alone. Lindsay and Gavin meant well, but they’d hovered around her all of the day before, and their worried glances were driving her up the wall.
She couldn’t sleep, her appetite had disappeared altogether, and there was hole inside her she didn’t know what to do with.
There was a knock on her door and Eleanor peeped in. “I was on my way to buy muffins when I saw your car parked out front. Mind if I come in?” By the time she’d finished talking, she was already in the room.
Charlie crossed her arms. Logan’s mom was really the last person she wanted to see. It was difficult enough not to think constantly about him. And Eleanor would want to talk about the cancelled trip to the cabin, she knew that.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said before Eleanor could say another word.
“About what, dear?” Eleanor asked as she sat down on one of the chairs.
“You know what. Logan and I...we’re too different, it can never work—it’s obvious.”
“Not to me, it isn’t. I’ve never seen such an instant connection between people as I’ve seen between the two of you. You can’t deny that. It’s rare and special and not something that happens every day.”
With a sigh, Charlie sat down behind her desk. There was a lump the size of a tennis ball in her throat, and Charlie had to swallow several times before she could answer. “I’m not denying it. But...some things are simply not meant to be.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Eleanor exclaimed. “Logan can’t take his eyes off of you and you, my dear girl, you light up when you see him. I don’t want you to make a dreadful mistake. Love comes knocking once in a lifetime, if we’re lucky. And I—”
“I love him, Eleanor. Body, soul, the works. But...he doesn’t feel the same way. That’s why I couldn’t go away with him. Don’t be mad at him, please. He’s been very honest about it right from the start. I’m not what he wants. Besides, I...I can’t have children and Logan deserves a whole woman, someone who can give him everything he wants. Your son is a good man, Eleanor, just not for me.”
Eleanor stared at her for several minutes before she got up. “Not being able to have your own children doesn’t make you less of a woman. I’m not sure why you believe that lie, but it’s not true. You don’t ever turn your back on love, sweetie, don’t you know that? You fight for it!”
Swallowing her tears, Charlie walked around the desk and gave her a hug. “It doesn’t always work out in real life. So, tell me—what are our plans for this week?”
Fortunately, Eleanor was happy to talk about other things. “Brooke is working non-stop on a commissioned piece, so I’ll probably help out in the evenings with Connor. But let’s make a date for Friday. As you know by now, I can’t really cook, but...”
Charlie smiled. “That sounds nice, thanks. Next weekend we’re all going to Seattle. Bowen therapists from surrounding states have a meeting there on Saturday. I made contact with them when we arrived, but I’ve never attended any of their meetings before. Lindsay and Gavin are coming with me, I’m glad to say. I think it’ll be good for Lindsay to get away.”
“You’ll enjoy Seattle; it’s a beautiful city.” She grimaced. “You know, if you and Logan were still together, he could’ve shown you around.”
“I’ll be busy and Lindsay and Gavin will find their way.” Charlie held her breath. She really didn’t want to talk about Logan any longer. It was too hard.
Fortunately, Eleanor didn’t push her point. “When is Gavin going back?” she asked on her way out.
“I don’t think I’ve told you yet, but he’s decided to join us here. He’ll initially work for the firm he’s with in South Africa and will take things from there.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “That is wonderful news.” She quickly hugged Charlie. “I have to go and tell Brooke.”
Shaking her head, Charlie walked back into her rooms. Why would Brooke be interested in Gavin’s whereabouts? But hopefully Eleanor now had a different topic to focus all her energy on and would leave Charlie be.
Lilly knocked on her door, announcing the first client of the day. Great. At least while she worked, the ache inside her subsided for a while.
Two weeks later, Logan was ready to climb the walls. It was Friday, fourteen days since he’d last seen Charlie. He should’ve forgotten her by now, damn it. But he was like a zo
mbie. He struggled to focus on his work, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a decent night’s sleep.
Everyone in the office, including Anna, was giving him a wide berth. He was unreasonable, irritated, angry, frantic—all at the same time, all the time.
Damn it to hell. Why couldn’t he get the woman out of his thoughts and dreams? At the oddest times, he’d remember her smile or hear the jingling of her bangles. He was making himself and everyone around him miserable, and he had no idea how to stop the ache inside of him.
Anna knocked on the door, her face expressionless—a clear sign she was fed up with him. “I’ve made reservations at the Italian restaurant you like so much for tomorrow night.”
Logan was staring at his screen. For the past hour, he’d been trying to get an email out, but because he kept thinking about Charlie, he’d hardly written more than a paragraph. “Reservations? What reservations?”
“According to your calendar, you have a date. With someone called Mandy.”
He frowned. Mandy? Who the hell was Mandy? And then he remembered the call he’d made two weeks before. He’d had nothing but Charlie on his mind for the last two weeks; he’d clean forgotten he’d made a date.
“Oh, yes. I remember. Lovely woman,” he mumbled, and stared at his screen again.
“Really? What does she look like?”
What does Charlie look like? His gaze was still on screen, but his thoughts were right back in Alisson—in Charlie’s rooms, to be exact. “She’s...beautiful. Wears weird clothes, she probably has a hundred bangles on each arm, you know, and she loves these mini-chandeliers on her ears...”
“Oh, really? Because the Mandy I thought you were taking on a date is rake-thin, wears only black, white, or gray, and she wouldn’t be seen dead in bangles.”
Logan looked up. “Mandy?”
Anna cocked her head. “You’ve just described Charlie Wilson, the Bowen therapist in Alisson, if I’m not mistaken?”
He opened his mouth to refute her observation but closed it again. There wasn’t anything to say. “I have work to do.”
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