Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One (22 page)

“No.” Logan wore that blasted fake smile—the same one she’d seen after the weirdness of their first time, the one that didn’t meet his eyes, the one that gave her chills because of the emptiness she saw in him. “I got the basics from a book in the library and a few afternoons on the Internet gave me the rest of the information I’d needed. It was amazing what I could learn when I applied myself.” He shook his head and stared into space, as if he were lost in the past. “I was a nerd back then, scrawny—a sitting duck. I learned quickly that knowledge was protection. I made sure I had a lot of knowledge the Latin Kings needed.”

He didn’t look at her, his gaze dropping to his feet. “Pop took me in when I was about twelve—after I was caught building bombs. He was my last chance before I ended up in juvie or jail.” He fisted his big hands and then stretched them open, repeating the process over and over. “I’d spent the nine years before that bouncing from one foster family to another. I’d been dumped at a police station or hospital when I was about three, so apparently I had bonding issues. I probably still do—I guess it comes with the territory.” He finally looked at her and in his eyes she saw fear, she saw embarrassment, and she saw hope.

When she’d met Logan, he’d looked no different from her brothers. Today she saw a man with a past she’d never suspected, maybe never believed—not really. She saw a man who had beaten the odds and had overcome more in his thirty years than most did in a lifetime. She saw a man with so many sides, he reminded her of a perfectly
cut diamond—a brilliant being who refracted all the light around him and created beauty just by his presence.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate this whole true-confessions thing. I just don’t understand what you’re going for.” She looked into shocked eyes—yeah, well, join the club. This wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting either. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I care about you in ways I didn’t know I could. Skye, I might have some issues, but when it comes to you and me, they don’t seem to apply. I’ve been straight with you from the beginning and thought you deserved to know what you’re getting into with me.”

“But I’m not getting into anything with you. I told you why, and it has nothing to do with your past. We decided this afternoon that whatever this thing between us was is over, remember?”

“No,
we
haven’t decided anything.” Logan got that Cro-Magnon, alpha look in his deep-set eyes, the one that sent her heart racing, and had her thinking about running and squeezing her thighs together at the same time.

“Oh yes, we have.” Her brain and body were completely out of sync—her brain said
run
and her treacherous body said
take me now
. She didn’t know which was right. She was so disgusted with herself she felt like banging her head against a brick wall—she would have if her head hadn’t already felt as though the devil had used it for kickball practice.

He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “You decided and you’re wrong. You’re not going to get fired. You’re the best chef the Crow’s Nest has ever had. Everyone cares about you—that’s why they’re sticking their noses into our lives. Things will calm down in a few days. Just give it a little time and we’ll be fine.”

She pushed against him to get some space, but his arms were locked around her like a vise. She opened her mouth to tell him she wanted to concentrate on her career. To tell him it had nothing to do with him, that it was her, and his kiss—a pleading, possessive, passionate, and mentally paralyzing kiss—anesthetized the space between her ears and sent shock waves through the rest of her body.

He held her in his arms and she felt the strongest man she knew shake. When he pulled away and stared into her eyes—there wasn’t a trace of cyborg, just Logan—all of him. His gaze was so open, so honest, so full of an emotion she’d never seen before in the eyes of any other man. It took her breath away. No one had ever looked at her with such depth, with such surety, with such intensity.

“I know you’re afraid. Hell, this thing between us scares me to death. But no matter how scary it is to feel the way I do about you, the thought of losing you is worse. Skye, I need you and I’ve never needed anyone. I feel things for you I’ve never felt for anyone. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I’ve never wanted to do that with anyone.”

*   *   *

If Skye looked under the weather before, she looked like she had one foot in the grave now. Maybe it was a bad time to discuss this. He didn’t know where his words were coming from, just that he needed to shut up because she was turning a pasty white, and it did not complement her coloring. Shit, he had no idea how to do any of this, because apparently he was doing it all wrong.

She was beginning to look oxygen deprived. Her mouth kept opening and closing like that of a fish out of water. Not really the reaction he’d been hoping for. Not that he’d
planned this—which obviously was an error in judgment. “You might try breathing, sugar. You’re beginning to turn blue—an improvement over the color you were a few hours ago, but it’s still not optimal.”

She took a deep breath and then blinked—several times. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was pulling a Payton, but that wasn’t Skye. She looked as if she was questioning reality or wishing she’d wake from a nightmare—possibly both. “You want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“That’s the gist of it.”

“That’s like marriage.”

Logan grinned. “That’s what two people usually do when they love each other. Isn’t it?”

“You can’t love me. I’m difficult.”

“I wouldn’t say difficult. Challenging maybe.”

She shook her head and then groaned and brought her hands to her face. “‘Challenging’ is just a polite way to say I’m a pain in the ass. I know I am. I’ve had plenty of people tell me.”

He wasn’t about to touch that one. She might be a pain in the ass on occasion, but he wanted her to be his pain in the ass. “I love you, Skye. I wouldn’t change you even if I could.” Although he might work on her tolerance for alcohol, but there was no need to tell her she was anything but perfect, and she was. She was perfect for him. “I fell half in love with you the first time I met you and you demanded to see the kitchen.”

“I didn’t even like you then.”

“I know.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did too. Ask Rocki and Francis. They had a theory as to why—”

“You can’t love me. I’m your rebound girl.” She crossed her arms and gave him one firm nod, as if that was all it would take to set the record straight. She looked inordinately pleased with her revelation.

“I hate to break it to you, Skye, but you’re not my rebound girl.” He wiped the sweat off his brow; things were going downhill fast and he had no idea how to stop this train wreck. “Don’t you get it? I never loved Payton.”

“Ever? Did you tell her you loved her?”

“No. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“But you were engaged to her. You were going to marry a woman you didn’t love?”

“She asked me to marry her. It seemed like a prudent business decision, and I didn’t think I was capable of love—I had no idea what I was missing.”

“You know, maybe you’re mistaken about this whole love thing. You said yourself you know nothing about it.”

“Nope. I’ve known in here—” He pounded his chest.

“Sounds like indigestion.”

“I’ve known since the first time we made love. Maybe not in words, but I definitely knew something strange happened, something that changed everything, something that turned up the volume in my life, something that scared the shit out of me. It freaked me out.”

“I was there, remember?” She took a deep breath and her hand went to her chest, as if she was trying unsuccessfully to slow her stampeding heart. Her eyes were dilated; her pulse point throbbed on her throat. “I caught that. I didn’t know what it was, but it looked as if you wanted to run from the room screaming.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I thought I was losing it. But then I think that pretty often where you’re concerned.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“God, Logan, I don’t know what to do with this information. What do you want from me?”

Loving him back would be great, but it didn’t look as if that was behind door number three. She hadn’t said she loved him, but she hadn’t said she didn’t love him, so that meant it was a definite maybe. He could work with maybe. “Just keep an open mind and give us a chance.”

She didn’t look sold on the idea.

“My life is turned upside down, I’m waiting to hear about Nicki’s paternity, and I just lost my job, my home. I know I don’t look like a very good prospect right now, but think about it. I have some savings and there’s a lot I can do. I could get back into brewing. There’s a local brewer I could probably work for, or hell, I could start my own microbrewery.”

“You want to brew beer?”

“Sure, I worked at a microbrewery while I was in school. I loved it. I’m good at it. I’d be brewing beer right now if I hadn’t started dating Payton.”

“So you went from brewing beer to wine because of a girl?”

Logan shrugged. “Pretty much. I met Payton and her family. Wine is fascinating and they gave me an internship. I did well. Payton was relatively low maintenance, and well, you know the rest.”

“Is there anything you’re not good at?”

“Talking you into giving us a chance, apparently.”

“Logan.” She put her hand on his. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

And wasn’t that just the kiss of death? The next thing she’d tell him was that he was nice and she just wanted to be friends. He cringed, because that was definitely every
guy’s worst nightmare phrase—especially after declaring his undying love.

She took a sip of ginger ale and then stared into her glass, watching the bubbles for a moment, as if she were trying to see the future in the bottom of her cup. “You just don’t understand.”

“Talk to me. Help me understand.”

She reached over, set her glass on the bedside table, and moved to face him. Sitting with her legs crossed, she took his hand in hers and stared at them—his large and dark, hers small and so white. She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. God, she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. “I just asserted my independence for the first time in my life, and I like it. I don’t know if I want to give that up.”

“You never told me that you ran away from a relationship.”

She let out a laugh that was anything but funny. “More like six relationships. I’m the youngest of five. I’m the only daughter and my parents and brothers spent my entire life dictating how I should live it. They told me how to dress, how to act, and what job to do. I didn’t grow up like you, Logan. I had every advantage. I was one of the privileged few. I was given everything. I just didn’t want what they wanted me to want. I didn’t want a life as a socialite and I certainly didn’t want what they were willing to let me do with my life.”

“Hold on, Skye. You’ve lost me. Back up.”

“Okay.” She looked away as if she was trying to organize her thoughts or get the courage to say what she needed to say.

Pinpricks of fear slid over his neck, his muscles tensed as if preparing for a deathblow.

“Have you ever heard of the Maxwell chain of restaurants?”

“Maxwell’s? Of course. They’re all over the West Coast. They carry Billingsly wines.”

“I know. I ordered the wine. It’s nice to meet you, Logan.” She turned their hand-holding into a handshake. “I’m Skye Sinclair Maxwell—the youngest, lesser-known member of the Maxwell clan.”

He sucked in a breath and pulled his hand out of hers so fast, you’d think she burned him, and maybe she had. What the hell? “You lied to me?” God, he was such a fool.

She reached for his hand again and held on tight, giving it a squeeze. “Not technically. Sinclair is my middle name. I just didn’t mention my last name.”

“And your family—”

She winced. “They have no clue where I am. That’s why I couldn’t tell you. When I found out who you were. I didn’t want you to rat me out to my family. If you had known who I was, you would never have given me the job.”

“That’s not true.” The look she shot him told him she didn’t buy the line either. Chances were, she was right. But then, he had been desperate.

“You know my brothers.”

And he knew Patrick Maxwell was going to kill him. Patrick might be a few inches shorter than him, but he was an ox who outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. He’d heard all about the Maxwell little sister. According to her brothers, she was off-limits. Hell, they joked about sending her to the nearest nunnery. “I play poker with Patrick and Colin at the club.”

“I figured as much. And think about it—why would I tell you?
I wanted to get a job because of my expertise and not my family name.”

“I don’t understand why you came all the way out here. Why didn’t you just work with them?”

“I want my own restaurant. Every one of my brothers was given their own restaurant when they turned thirty. I worked my ass off for years. I did everything they wanted me to. I paid my dues. The problem was they were too happy letting me run the business end of the restaurants to give me my own kitchen. I hate being a paper pusher, so I quit and came here. I was determined to get my own kitchen and make my way in the cooking world on my own without using my family name and that’s just what I did.”

“Your plan was to work in Red Hook?”

“No, I came to Manhattan, but I couldn’t very well get a job in any of the trendy New York restaurants without revealing where I’d been working, could I? Especially since I didn’t want to use my family as a reference.”

“So you thought you’d slum it?”

“No. I just thought I’d have a better chance in one of the boroughs, and I was right. Okay, my best friend, Kelly, was right. I hadn’t planned on running into you of all people.”

“If you belong to the Napa Valley Country Club, how come I’ve never seen you there?”

“Because I avoid it whenever possible. Do I look like I’d fit in with the country-club set?” She spread her arms, the sweatshirt he’d pulled over her head after he’d cleaned her up slid off to one side, and he wanted to kiss the spot where her neck and shoulder met. He was such a sap.