Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One (23 page)

He looked at her through new eyes—this explained
the shoes and the expensive lingerie. Still, he couldn’t see her doing lunch with Payton and the society sisterhood. No, his Skye wasn’t the type—hell, she shopped at thrift stores and seemed to enjoy it. “I can’t see you lunching with the ladies, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s not to say you wouldn’t fit in just fine if that’s what you wanted.” Skye had grown up with everything he’d ever thought he wanted. She had the acceptance. She had the money. She belonged in that world. The weird thing was she resented it. She didn’t seem happy to have any of the things he’d worked his entire life for.

“That’s just it. I don’t want any of it. I don’t need to see and be seen. All I want—all I’ve ever wanted—was my own kitchen. Since I left, I realized just getting my own kitchen isn’t enough. I want to make it on my own. I want to earn my own kitchen, not have it handed to me because my last name is Maxwell.”

She crossed her arms and got that determined glint in her eyes that always half scared him and half turned him on. Aw, hell, there was no halfway about it. A determined Skye Sinclair—make that Maxwell—was a total turn-on.

“I have skills. I went to the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco. I did well. And as soon as I graduated, my family threw me in the business office. Sure, they’d let me play in the kitchens when it suited them. I have a knack for creating specials using seasonal food, but as soon as they had the recipes, they’d toss me back to deal with human resource issues, OSHA regulations, compliance, insurance, you name it. I’m good at the business end, but I’m better in the kitchen—not that they’d ever admit it.”

It looked as if her head of steam had run out. She toyed with the blanket, picking the pills off the fabric,
seemingly lost in thought, and let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, since I’m the only girl, the only sibling who has the ability to give birth, the only one without a penis, my brothers and my father decided I would eventually want to get married and have kids and wouldn’t be able to handle my own restaurant. It was just a ridiculous excuse to keep me in the office because none of my brothers wanted to hire someone outside the family to keep the books. I felt trapped, so I quit. I had a fight with Paddy, packed my bags, took all the cash I had on hand—which wasn’t much—and flew out the next day. I’ve been living on what I earn at the Crow’s Nest. I haven’t used any of my credit cards because I can’t afford to have the sphincter police find me.”

His head shot up. “The sphincter police?”

“My brothers.”

“Shit, your family doesn’t know where you are? They must be worried sick.”

Skye shrugged. “Paddy told my parents I went on vacation.”

“For a month?”

“That’s his problem. He’s probably starting to sweat about it right about now. He’s going to have to fess up soon.”

She was slumming it. She’d come here and thought she’d play with him, and then toss him into the bay when the excitement wore off. His face heated, blood roaring in his ears with the strength of a high tide during a full moon, pounding through his veins. Fear, anger, and hurt grew into one big throbbing force that knocked the wind out of him. “So what am I to you? A temporary fling? Did the debutante run away from home to play on the wrong side of the other bay?”

“No.” Her face turned red and the pulse on her neck throbbed as fast as it did when they were making love. She looked about to blow her top or hit him. Instead she just crossed her arms and glared.

Good. Misery loved company, and he was plenty pissed himself, not to mention miserable and hurt. Shit, she had really done a number on him.

“This is no game. I’m not slumming it. And I’m not playing with you either. I quit my job, plain and simple. It’s not my fault my brothers expect me to fall on my face and go running home crying when things don’t work out. Don’t you see why I have to make it? I can’t go back to that.”

He took a huge mental step back. He shut down his emotions, locked them in a box to deal with later, and separated himself. He looked at the facts, because right now, facts were all he could deal with. “You went from cooking at Maxwell’s to cooking at the Crow’s Nest—that’s not really a lateral move.”

“I only cooked when they needed me, which wasn’t enough. They took all the credit for the dishes I created. It wasn’t fair. I let them take advantage of me for years until I hit the breaking point. I quit and I don’t regret it. I love what I’m doing now. The Crow’s Nest isn’t a five-hundred-seat restaurant, but that’s just a difference in the number of staff. I’ve always thought I could handle my own kitchen, but now I know I can.”

So, she accomplished what she wanted. She proved she could be successful on her own. Where the hell did that leave him? All those feelings he stuffed into the box exploded with the force of a pipe bomb. “Are you going back?” God, he hated how fucking pathetic he sounded. Even though he was pissed as hell, even though she’d lied
to him, even though he felt as if she’d just filleted his heart, the thought of her leaving left him cold.

“To Maxwell’s and my brothers? Hell, no.”

He blew out a breath of relief, until he remembered she still seemed to want nothing to do with him. Oh sure, she liked the sex, but he wanted more than just a bed buddy. It surprised him how much more. But then today was the day for firsts, wasn’t it? The first time he’d been taken in by a woman. Still, he had to ask. “So if you’re not going back, and you’re happy at the Crow’s Nest, then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Yet you don’t want to get involved with me.”

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. He cringed. Real tears scared the crap out of him. He couldn’t imagine Skye crying for effect or to get her own way. No, Skye wasn’t a crier and she wasn’t happy, as evidenced by the angry way she swiped at her tears.

“It’s not that I don’t want to get involved.”

His get-real look had her scrambling.

“Okay, I didn’t want to get involved with you or anyone for that matter. I didn’t come here to get messed up in a relationship—I had other things on my mind. It’s nothing personal, but a relationship wasn’t even on my radar.” She stared at the center of his chest and he thought for sure this was the end. Then she looked into his eyes. “It was the last thing I wanted. I couldn’t help it, though. I am involved. Deeply involved. More involved than I’ve ever been with any man before. The thing is, Logan, I don’t want to give up everything I achieved to have a relationship with you.”

Relief washed over him and he drew in what felt like his first full breath since he’d found out who she was. “Skye.”
He pulled her onto his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and felt whole for the first time in his life. He kissed her before forcing her to look at him. “I’m not asking you to give up a damn thing. God knows I want you to be happy. If you want to work, fine. If you want to stay at home, that would be fine too.”

“But you’re talking marriage—”

“Eventually, maybe. I want to be with you, but I have to stay here in Red Hook for Nicki’s sake. I can’t take her away from the only home she’s ever known and all the people she loves.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“So you’re okay staying with me and Nicki in Red Hook?”

“Whoa, I never said I’d stay with you and Nicki.” Skye wiped the tears from her face, grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, and stared at Logan. He just asked her, all crying and snotty and hungover, to live with him. Maybe she was still drunk. Maybe she was dreaming, and if it was a dream, she wasn’t sure whether this was a nightmare or not. God, why did everything have to be so confusing? “I mean, I care about you and Nicki, but as much as I love the Crow’s Nest—”

“It’s not exactly the kind of restaurant you want to spend your life working in.”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I have a five-year plan. Hell, I don’t have a five-minute plan.” Well, except to never drink again, but that was more a lifetime thing. “Maybe the Crow’s Nest isn’t the be-all and end-all, but it’s a great start.”

“You could work in Manhattan.”

“I could.” But work wasn’t what she was worried about. Work wasn’t what was keeping her from jumping him, making love to him like a wild woman, and then running to the closest justice of the peace. Losing a job wouldn’t
break her heart, but buying into this whole relationship, labeling all the feelings she’d been avoiding since starting this thing with Logan, letting him in more than she already had, was a recipe for disaster. She needed a reality check, and so did he. It just sucked that the job fell on her. “Logan, what if Nicki isn’t your daughter? Have you thought of that?”

He looked straight into her eyes and she caught her breath. He looked the same way when he’d told her he loved her. So open, so certain, so real and strong. “I love Nicki. She still needs a family and I want to give that to her. I want to be that for her. I want us to be her parents. It doesn’t matter if I’m her biological parent or not.”

Of course it mattered. He of all people should know how important it was to know where you came from and who your parents were, but that wasn’t the point she was trying to make. “Is that what you told Payton?”

She could tell by the way his face blanched it was exactly what he’d told Payton. Knowing Logan, he’d even used the same words. “Skye, with you everything is different. I’m different. I never loved Payton.”

And as much as she wanted to believe it, she wasn’t sure he even knew what he was feeling. Logan certainly believed he did and talked a good game. Lord knew she wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe so much it scared her, so much she could easily ignore that voice in her head that told her this was all an illusion on both their parts. “I know things with us are different. We’re attracted to each other. We’re great together in the sack and out of it. We like each other and I adore Nicki. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you love me. Maybe this thing between us will work out. But then maybe I’m just convenient.”

She hadn’t meant to give him a verbal low blow, but the way his breath rushed out as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him told her she might not have meant to, but did anyway.

He rose from the bed and paced. His hands clenched and released with every step. He crossed the room, turned, and stomped back again and then repeated the process. He stopped, ran his hands through his hair until it stood on end, and then faced her. “You think I’m with you because you’re convenient?” His voice went low and gravelly, and made all the hair on her arms stand up. His eyes flared with anger so hot, she felt the burn in the pit of her stomach. A vein throbbed at his temple and it looked as if he were about to explode. “You.” He pointed to her and back to himself. “Our timing. This relationship is anything but convenient. Look at us, Skye.” He grabbed the back of his neck with both hands, either to loosen the tense muscles or to keep from strangling her—she wasn’t sure which. “We’re both practically homeless. Hell, you’re hiding from your family. As for me, I don’t even know who my birth parents are.”

A picture of Logan as a little three-year-old boy dumped at a police station took up residence in her heart and mind. He must have been so scared, so totally alone. When she looked at him now, she knew that little boy was hiding inside of him and all she wanted to do was hold him and tell him she’d never leave him. She shook her head to dispel the image and tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but they kept coming. Shit. She hated crying and the more she cried, the more nervous he looked, and more out of control she felt. She sniffled and hiccuped like a little kid trying not to bawl. She took three deep breaths, doing her best to get a
grip, wiped her face, and reached for him, pulling him back onto the bed.

He sat and shook his head, his eyes closing as if he couldn’t stand to look at her, as if it hurt. “Skye, I’ve lost my job, my home, and I might have a ten-year-old daughter who thinks of me as a brother. It’s a mess no matter how you slice it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” His eyes finally met hers and held. “The only thing in my life I’m sure of is that I love you.”

Skye’s lips trembled and she pressed them together until the trembling stopped. She didn’t want to say this. She’d rather tell him anything but this, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to be honest even if it hurt, and this one was a whopper of a hurt. “Look at this from my perspective. You were engaged to Payton and only broke up with her because she rejected Nicki. You want to get married—maybe you feel like Nicki needs a mom, or maybe you don’t want to be alone. The thing is…I don’t think I could take it if a while down the road you realize you never loved me at all. It would kill me to find out I’m nothing more than Payton’s replacement.”

He looked like a powder keg ready to go off. He did the whole caveman with a bad-boy twist to perfection. “You’re not Payton’s replacement.” He grabbed her upper arms and turned her toward him.

She wished she could turn away, but he forced her to face him.

“I never wanted to marry her. Our engagement was a fucking business decision—one I’ll never live down.” He held her arms in his grip and gave her a shake. “I didn’t know
I was capable of feeling these things.…” A look of defeat crossed his face and sliced through her like her favorite knife through a tin can—jagged and painful. “I didn’t know I was capable of feeling anything until I met you. I’ve never felt anything like what I feel for you. I never dreamed I’d fall in love. Ever. I don’t need a wife or a mother figure for Nicki and I’m sure as hell not afraid of being alone.” He released her arms and stared into her eyes. “Skye, I spent a lifetime alone—I survived just fine. The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you, because, God help me, I need you.”

Skye wrapped her arms around his neck and when her lips touched his, her battle with self-restraint was lost. She’d never initiated a kiss, much less sex, but at that moment, all she wanted, all she could think of, all she needed, was Logan.

She pushed up his sweater, her hands sliding over his chest while she devoured his mouth—drowning in his taste, the feel of his tongue against hers. She was on top for once, in control, and Logan did nothing to take it from her. Not that he couldn’t; he could move her around like a Barbie doll when he wanted to, but this time he sat back and let her love him.