Counting On It (Hearts for Ransom Book 1) (9 page)

“Emily, wake up. Somebody’s knocking on the door.” Abby’s hushed voice penetrated the fog of sleep.

“What?” She sat up and looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. “Who is it?” If she could just get her eyes to stay open…

“I don’t know. I didn’t bring my housecoat, and I can’t go to the door looking like this.” Emily finally focused on Abby, who was wearing a lacy set of baby doll pajamas—real camping clothes there.

She heard the persistent rapping on the door as she finally managed to untangle herself from the sheets and stand up. Since her cotton pajamas covered as much as her regular clothes, she left Abby in the bedroom peering around the nearly closed door, as she walked to the front door and looked out the window.

“What in the…?” She unlocked the door and swung it open.

“What are you doing here this time of night?” she demanded from Logan, who was wearing those pajama pants and that T-shirt again, and looking so good she wanted to go out there and jump…whoa, there. This was Logan Taylor in front of her.

“I need your help.” Urgency colored his tone. “Can I come in?”

Emily looked toward the bedroom, where Abby was poking her head around the door and shaking it vehemently. She sighed.

“Let me get my shoes on and I’ll come out there.” She couldn’t imagine what he needed her to help him with this late at night.

A few minutes later they were sitting beside each other at Emily’s picnic table, their backs against the top.

“It’s Trevor,” Logan began.

Emily gave him a disbelieving look. “I can’t do anything about getting your partner changed. I told you I don’t have any say in—”

“No.” He interrupted her. “I don’t want to be anybody else’s big brother. I like Trevor—a lot.”

“Well, that’s good then.” She patted her cheeks with her hands, trying to wake herself all the way up. “I’m half asleep here, Logan. You’re going to have to explain yourself.”

“He doesn’t have anything, Em. The kid brought two pairs of jeans and shirts most people would put in their rag pile. His shoes are falling apart at the seams.”

Emily had never seen Logan so sincere before and remembering Abby’s observations about the boy being hungry, tears came to her eyes. “There’s nothing we can do,” she said sadly.

“Don’t you have to go get groceries or something once in a while? I mean, you have to go to town, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I go every Friday. Aaron said something about a couple of you and your little brothers coming with me, but I don’t know how he picks who goes.”

He shook his head. “That’s too long. I don’t want him to go without decent clothes that much longer.” An idea hit him. “Your boss. Does he go into Ransom very often?”

She slowly nodded. Aaron took Sara in every day for chemo. He had told her and Abby that he sat and read while she was receiving it because he couldn’t bring himself to leave town with her there. “He’s there every day. Why?”

“If I give him my credit card, would he pick up some clothes and shoes for Trevor? Not much and nothing fancy—I don’t want the other boys here giving him a hard time.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “I can’t explain it, Em. I just have to help this boy. Will you help me?”

She saw the look in his eyes, and her heart melted. With no forethought, she leaned over and kissed him. Logan reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. She had started it, but it was soon clear who was going to control it.

He reached over and grabbed her hip to swing her up and over until she was straddling him. His mouth left hers and trailed down her neck as his hand came up to the front of her shirt to cup her breast. She threw her head back and gave herself up to the feelings. She moaned as he pulled her top aside and kissed his way down her chest. She gripped his shoulders to keep from falling backward—or launching into space.

“Em…I…you are so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.

The sound of his voice brought her back to reality. They were on a picnic table in plain sight of every campsite occupied by the boys and men in the big-brother program. If even one of them looked out, he would see them.

“Logan, we have to stop,” she protested. “We can’t do this here.”

He slowly came back to his senses, his desire-fueled actions stopping. Logan pulled away from her breasts and gently pulled her top back in place. Then he pulled her tightly against his groin once, showing her how much he wanted her before he resolutely pulled her off of his lap and slid her back on the bench beside him.

“Wow,” was all Emily could say.

“You can say that again.” Logan had to take a few minutes to get himself back under control. He finally found his voice. “I’m sorry, Emily. I didn’t come over here to do that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she told him. “I’m the one who started it.”

“I would have finished it, though.” He smiled dryly. “I’d better get back—in case Trevor wakes up. Will you help me get him some clothes?”

She nodded. “I’ll ask Aaron and see what he says. If he can’t, maybe Abby can slip away long enough to do it. We’ll figure something out.”

He leaned over and tenderly kissed her one more time. “Thank you, Em. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” Her body was still humming from his touch.

“Goodnight.” He stood up and slowly walked away.

Emily floated across the site and let herself back into the camper. She about jumped a mile when Abby giggled. “That was better than a movie.”

“What was?” Emily already knew the answer.

“Don’t worry. I stopped watching as soon as I realized it was going from PG-13 to R. I’m not a voyeur, you know.” She turned the lamp on. “You and Logan—who would have thought?”

“Wait a minute,” Emily interrupted. “We’re not together like that.”

Abby chuckled. “I’d say you two were awfully close to being as together as a man and woman can get.”

Emily sank to the couch and put her head in her hands. “It’s his kisses. Once I feel his…once we’re kissing, all rational thought just flies out of my head.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve done this before.”

“Not exactly.” She raised her head and looked into her friend’s eyes. “He just kissed me once. We didn’t…like tonight.”

“Don’t bite my head off, but I think this has been building up for years.” Abby’s blue eyes sparkled. “I think all the orneriness and arguing have been foreplay—leading up to this.”

Emily could still feel his lips on her breast. “I don’t know what it is. I just don’t know.”

“Well, he’s here for two weeks. and you’re only forty-five minutes away from him after he goes home.” Her eyebrows arched. “It’s been easy to forget, but we do all live in the same city. You could have a real relationship with Logan.”

“Don’t go putting things away before they’re paid for, Abby. We kissed a couple of times and just had an…intense makeout session. That doesn’t necessarily mean we’re each other’s soul mates.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not, either.” Abby’s grin was downright wicked.

“I’m going back to bed.” Emily stood up and walked to the bedroom door. “Please, Abby, don’t make this into something it isn’t. It’s too…new.”

She turned and walked to her bed, closing the door behind her. That’s what these feelings Logan had stirred up were—new.

Logan and Trevor had somehow made it to the final playoff in the horseshoe tournament. Who’d have thought the scrawny twelve-year-old could throw like that? He’d like to see what the boy could do with a softball.

“Come on, sissy boy! Let’s see you hit another one!” Austin, who was standing next to Logan, yelled at Trevor. Jesse stood at the other stake with him. Trevor was getting ready to pitch a horseshoe.

Logan started to say something to Austin about his mouth when Trevor took care of things by pitching a perfect ringer. Looked like “sissy boy” had hit another one just fine.

He had wondered if Trevor would choke when he realized the entire group was watching him, but the boy surprised him by appearing to ignore everybody and focus on the game. They needed one more ringer, and he and Trevor would defeat Jesse and Austin, winning the tournament.

And there it was. Trevor hit another perfect ringer. Jesse’s horseshoes had landed close to the stake, but not close enough. They had won! Logan met Trevor halfway between the stakes and high-fived him.

“Congratulations, Trevor and Logan!” Pastor Rhinehart was exuberant. “It stands to reason that our pitcher and his partner would win.”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Logan told him. “Trevor scored most of our points.” And he had. Logan wished he could take the joy in Trevor’s eyes and bottle it up for him to keep.

“Good game,” Jesse said, shaking Logan’s and then Trevor’s hands. “Get over here and show good sportsmanship, Austin. Right now.”

If he lived to be one hundred, Logan didn’t think he’d ever get used to that stern voice coming out of Jesse’s mouth. He wanted a boy who needed his guidance, and had definitely gotten one.

“Good game.” It was said in a surly tone of voice and Austin’s handshake felt more like preparation for arm wrestling, but Jesse had managed to get him to do as he was told. Logan knew one thing. He wouldn’t trade Trevor for any of the other boys there.

Emily’s voice carried across the male chattering. “Abby and I have set up the tables so you can all sit down and enjoy your watermelon.” Aaron had surprised everyone by dropping off several large ones early that morning. A local farmer found out what they were doing at the campground and donated enough to feed twelve hungry boys and their grown counterparts.

Logan made sure he walked close enough to Emily to be heard as they traversed the path between the horseshoe pits and pavilion. She nodded in response to his raised eyebrows. He slid her the credit card he’d been carrying in his front pocket all day. This time tomorrow, Trevor would have some new clothes and a decent pair of shoes.

“What size shoes?” Emily asked in a hushed voice.

“Eight” he answered. He and Pastor Rhinehart, who seemed very pleased by Logan’s gesture, had finally figured out that Trevor’s feet were about the same size as Kaleb’s—seven and a half. Learning about growth spurts at an early age, Logan added a half-size for room to grow. He wondered what the boy’s response would be. Something told him he’d need to tread lightly or he would offend Trevor. Logan could still see the pride in his eyes as he told of how hard his grandmother worked.

“Hey, Logan, your phone is ringing,” Mason hollered from the back of the line.

“I’d better get it,” he told Trevor, who was walking beside him. “Why don’t you go ahead and sit with Bo and Seth? I’ll be there in a minute.” It hadn’t taken long to realize the other boys avoided Seth like he had the plague. Did they think abuse was contagious?

Leaving Trevor walking beside Seth and trying to engage him in conversation, Logan made it to his tent just as the phone stopped mid-ring. It had gone to voice mail. Before he could pick it up to check, the ringing began again. He answered it.

“What were you thinking, Mr. Taylor?” It was Sam Haynes himself.

“I beg your pardon?” The old guy must have finally gone around the bend.

“Thank goodness I screened the pictures before letting the paper use them. This would have not been the publicity we needed. The one they’re using is bad enough.” He sounded downright indignant.

“Mr. Haynes, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You and that woman. Why, some of those photographs are scandalous! And I run a bar. I’ve seen just about everything.”

“I still don’t understand. Me and what woman? What photographs?” If the old man didn’t explain himself in a minute, team or no team, Logan was through listening to him.

“Ms. Carlson sent me yesterday’s pictures this morning—as a courtesy. There are several photographs of you with a woman straddling you. They’re indecent. Do you think I want to advertise Sloopy’s as a bordello?”

Oh, no. He and Emily had been seen—photographed—last night when they…in a very private moment. He was suddenly very furious, himself. “That was on my own personal time, and a very private moment. I want every picture—
every
picture destroyed.”

A humorless laugh came from the phone. “I have destroyed all but the one they insisted on putting in the paper. She’s still sitting beside you and you’re just kissing her. It’s going to be in today’s
Razor
, Mr. Taylor. Two lovers sneaking away from the boys for a few moments of intimacy. Did Al not make it clear to you that absolutely everything you do during these two weeks is subject to being photographed and reported?”

“I thought that meant anything pertaining to the boys.” He might not have made this deal if he realized the extent of it. What was next? Were they going to follow him into the shower house? The toilet?

“For me to get the deal with the paper, it had to be every aspect of your time there.” Sam Haynes became even more brisk. “Let me cut to the chase. You are romancing that woman, I take it?”

“I don’t see how that’s anybody’s business.” They could take all the pictures they wanted, but he’d be hanged if they were going to pry every feeling out of him.

“Let me put this another way. You
are
romancing that woman. Decently and discreetly, of course. You’re not putting on a show for the boys, after all. It seems that the paper wants to play up the romance angle as a side story to the mentoring program. You and that woman are both sacrificing time you could be spending together just to help those boys. So, unless you want to be the man solely responsible for the destruction of your team, you will charm the socks—but nothing else—off of that woman.”

Logan’s mind whirled. He wanted to tell Sam Haynes what he could do with his publicity and his sponsorship, and even his flippin’ bar, so bad he could taste it. Then he thought of his teammates. The old coot had him over a barrel, and he knew it. And while Logan wasn’t exactly sure he
didn’t
want to romance Emily, he didn’t like being told he had to.

When all was said and done, he once again had no choice. “Fine. But ‘that woman’ has her own life. She hasn’t done anything to deserve this. Order the photographer to make sure Em’s—the woman’s face is hidden. I know they can do that. It’ll make it more mysterious and capture more attention.” He had no idea if what he was saying was true, but it sounded good to him.

The line went quiet for a minute. “I like that, Taylor. The star pitcher and his mystery woman sneaking off for their stolen moments. I think the paper will like it, and the public will eat it up. I knew I could count on you.”

Only after he blackmailed Logan—again. “Is that all?” He had just about reached his limit.

“Just make sure your actions are appropriate for the newspaper—no more sexual interludes.”

Without another word, Logan disconnected the call, then shut his phone off.

There was one obstacle, a huge obstacle, in his path to charming Emily. Emily. She would never go for a fake relationship just to save the team. She didn’t care about the team. Maybe their relationship didn’t have to be fake. Just maybe they felt something for each other—besides desire—and his newest assignment from Haynes would serve as the catalyst for something very special. He made his decision.

Emily Scott had better watch out. With any luck at all, she was about to be swept off of her feet.