Chasing Ava: A Bachelor of Shell Cove Novel (The Bachelors of Shell Cove) (7 page)

Ava pressed the up arrow and waited. The quiet of the lobby ushered in a moment of clarity. When the elevator arrived she didn’t step inside. She strolled past the open elevator doors refusing to look at the mirrored walls.
I am a grown woman. I can make my own choices. No promises were made.
While determination bolstered her temporary confidence she entered the revolving door and pushed her way to sanity.
 

She stepped out into the cool October night. The bright lights of the tower entrance illuminated her immaturity.
 

The valet immediately stepped up to her. As an afterthought she remembered that Logan’s jacket draped her shoulders. Checking the pockets, no keys, no wallet, and no cell phone. Good.
 

“Taxi please.” She could return his jacket on Monday with a guilt free conscience. She wasn’t leaving him stranded.
 

Chapter 5

The dashboard clock read ten forty three when he killed the engine in the driveway of Ava’s 1940’s style single story bungalow. The solar lamps outlining the stone walkway allowed him to see the manicured yellow and orange pansy gardens landscaped in the front yard. White azalea bushes were trimmed short along the front of the house and fern plants filled hanging baskets on the full-length porch. A tropical teak table and two coordinating chairs were to the right of the door. It felt warm and inviting. Logan delivered two thuds to the densely paneled door with the authority of a SWAT team leader. Panic raced through him at the thought of Ava not answering. Had Randall intercepted her en route to the ladies’ room? He infused more power into the blows landing on the door.
Be here Ava.
 

When soft yellow light illuminated the covered porch the needle on his internal pressure gauge started the downward arc to safety. A feminine “Who is it?” came from the other side of the closed door.
 

“It’s me. Open the door.” He meant to sound more controlled than the equivalent of a male bark.

 
A moment of hesitation passed before he heard the distinct slide release of a chain lock. Ava’s sweetheart shaped face came into view. Relief replaced the tension that held him captive, the bunched muscles in his back slowly unfurled.
 

“What in God’s name are you doing at home?” No background noise came from inside the house, only the soft sounds of night creatures. She’d left him to sit in a quiet house?

The shock of his being at her door glinted in her eyes, before it gave way to something more cautionary.

“Leave God out of this. And how do you know where I live?”

“Where you live, are you serious? You said you were going to the bathroom. I called Lina when you didn’t return,” he said, through clenched teeth. “I couldn’t find Randall. I thought … never mind what I thought. Why did you leave without me?”

“I’m sorry Logan.” She took a step back allowing him a clear view of her and the small living area. The room was an open rectangle with a white stone wood-burning fireplace on the right wall. An over stuff couch with rolled arms and block feet was separated from the hearth by a burnished metal table with an oak base. “I never meant for you to worry.”
 

Her voice pulled him back to the natural feminine beauty on display before him. From the bottom to the top he assessed the woman that had him running to her doorstep. He spied well-toned legs and the soft yellow boy shorts covering her curved hips through her half open robe. Petite bare feet peeked from behind the door. Her springy locks were still loose around her shoulders. His fingers tingled at the thought of running his fingers through the thick tresses.
Delicious, that is what she is.

“You’re forgiven.” Now came the blockbuster question. “Why did you leave me?”
 

“I never thought you’d come looking for me.” She angled her head towards his Lexus sedan to make a point, “but it wasn’t a good idea for you to drive me home.”

“Clever woman. Help me understand this. You’re apologizing for causing me to worry, but not for leaving me.” An unrepentant flicker danced in her eyes. She was gorgeous in her defiance.
 

“Why didn’t you come back to me?” He didn’t know why her response was important, but somehow he knew it was. She seemed to study him as if determining the best way to answer his question. He didn’t want some contrived response to soothe his bruised ego. He needed honesty from her.
 

“The truth, Ava.”

“I was coming back to you, but on my way up to the ballroom, I thought it best that we leave things the way they are.” What happened on the dance floor was more than a collegial response.
 

He could tell she was choosing her words carefully now.
 

He smiled at her premeditated “ditch the doctor” retelling. She was trying to put space between them. She had felt the pull as strong as he did. He smiled then. “You are a clever one.”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me clever. How old are you?” The question took him by surprise. She was a master at deflecting the attention away from questions she didn’t want to answer. His age? He did not see that one coming. It took him a moment longer to respond.

At his silence she filled the void. “I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to ask. You don’t have to answer.” There couldn’t be more than ten years between them. He wasn’t too old for her.
 

“I am thirty-four. Is my being older than you a problem?”

“Why would your age be an issue?”
 

Deflecting again. “Answer my question.”
 

“No. Your age is your age. Do you want to know how old I am?”

“Sweetheart, you have to work on your game face. You are trying to avoid answering the question. I am not going to let you. You are over twenty-one and I like you, so I don’t care about your exact age. So, let’s simplify this for both our sakes. Ava do you have a problem being involved with me because of our age difference?”

“Wait, we’re involved?” He grinned at her question.
 

“From the moment you placed your hand in mine.”

She’d left the fundraiser an hour ago. Party clothes discard and dressed for bed, her mind and body hummed with sexual energy, she was too charged to sleep. How was she going to face Logan on Monday after running out on him? Before she could formulate a sane explanation for Logan, the banging at her front door had her leaping off the bed, yelping with fright. The hand at her chest did little to slow her rapid heart rate. She grabbed a mid-thigh length robe from the foot of the bed. The flutter in her stomach told her it was Logan. Being in close proximity to Logan always triggered a physical response. Which warranted boundary management, avoidance mastery and minimal contact protocol on a daily basis at work. Tonight he had launched a covert invasion. The breech had caused irreparable damage to the perimeter wall guarding her heart. Her front door rattled within the frame for the second time. He had followed her home and her silly heart leapt in her chest.

Might as well get this over with, since he’s not going away.
 

She reached for the porch light switch, then cracked the front door enough to see a handsome, but stone faced Logan.
 

 
He stood bathed in the soft light the two porch sconces afforded, tie gone, tuxedo shirt open, and a small “v” of short golden red hair visible from the open collar. Pure sex poured into a suit. She could almost taste his heat tantalizing her oral receptors.
 

Definitely, mouthwatering
.
 

His cedar wood scent came to her on the crisp night breeze. Inhaling she hoped to gather enough of it to subdue the sizzle that had hijacked her body from the moment she heard his voice this evening.

 
Her heart fluttered. Her pulse raced. Ava had to cross her legs as heat and dampness spread through her center for the second time tonight. Part two of this evening would take place on her doorstep evidently her fleeing the party was not a deterrent for Logan. Embarrassment blossomed in her cheeks at her lack of self-control.
 

“Are you going to invite me inside?”

Why did she have to be attracted to this gorgeous man she worked with every day? Now, he was using words of possession-stay, with me, and involved. It was all too much for her reclusive brain to handle. Even now a smoldering of desire laced his conversation. He wanted her.
 

Logan wants me.
 

She replayed the unfamiliar mantra a few times in her head. The thought of a man in her life was terrifying. But the thought of Logan didn’t raise the panic flag to full mast. The revelation that it didn’t shoot her emotional barometer to the danger zone had an erotic effect on her. Heaven help her, there was a place inside her that craved his attention.

“That’s not going to happen.” She wanted to keep him.
Her naughty nurse had awakened with an appetite. And Logan was the only entree on the menu.

“I can respect that.”
 

He peered over her shoulder taking in the small, cozy chic, living area. The pale yellow oversized couch with tufted twin chairs was her first purchase after getting the keys. They didn’t clash with her blue and white nautical theme. Would he view her decorating style as unique or a collection of colorful junk? Before she could contemplate why his opinion was important another question was fired in her direction.

“Who lives here with you?” Folds of fine Egyptian cotton formed around the front of his shirt as well defined pectorals flexed and bunched.
 

What lovely muscle anatomy.

“No one, it’s my house. I’ve owned it for two years.”
 

“It’s a nice house. I like what I can see of your landscaping. It has character, similar to a pediatric nurse I know.” There was that smile again, undoing her barely maintained calm. He fixed those mesmerizing emerald orbs on her and she knew the next thing out of his mouth would be a doozy. “You said you wouldn’t let me inside, but do you want to?” He had a laser beam focus on her face.

Yes,
echoed in her ear, but there was no way she would say it aloud. She felt his heat, her desire, and the air that moved from his body to hers. Everything was tangible where he was concerned.
 

Then she became aware of the warmth and weight of his palm cradling her cheek. Of their own volition, her eyes sank closed as she nestled into his hand increasing the contact. To be touched was bone melting. His thumb made slow, languid strokes across her cheek. She liked his touch as much as he seemed to like touching her. Never had she experienced such gentleness and care from a man. Some small part of her savored the thought, the response to his touch. It pleased her to know she could respond to a man’s touch without the fear overpowering her. But at the same time, it was too much to experience the sexual needs she’d buried after she’d gotten free of Marcus.
 

“Let me take you to dinner tomorrow.” His voice was closer now.
 

His statement brought her crashing back to reality. Instinctively she moved away from him. Cautious eyes focused on the man before her. Her tongue grazed the scar to her lower lip. No one would notice the imperfection now. She swept the thin ridge with her tongue, a permanent reminder of what happens when a man doesn’t get what he wants. He watched her. Those beautiful eyes studious looking for a weakness in her defenses. This would end in disaster if she allowed it to progress.

“It’s sexy when you play with your lip.” Pain registered in her entire body, her hand tightened on the door to keep her standing, each breath a scalpel across her lungs.
 

“Ava? What’s happening?” He reached for her. She extended her hand preventing him from making contact.
 

“Don’t touch me.” Why couldn’t she heal? Move on with her life? Instead, she was suspended in this emotionally stunted existence. She wanted Logan, but the need to feel safe was more compelling. Until Logan walked in her life, she had ignored all men. She had no desire to relive the pain she knew would come. She had a choice, trust another man or guard her heart. She had trusted a man once and he had nearly destroyed her.

No more pain.