Counting Stars (A Donnelley Brother's Novel) (14 page)

“Then why do you want to
point them out?”

“When I was little, I
used to lay outside with my brothers and we’d find pictures in the
stars. As I got older and I started taking trips on my own, I’d
count them. Some people count sheep, I count stars.”

I turned my head to look
at him. His eyes were focused up on the stars in the sky and he
looked at ease. Completely enthralled in the glimmering lights in
the sky. “I like your way better. Counting stars seems much more
peaceful than counting sheep.”

“It is.” He assured
lowly.

Turning my focus back
onto the stars, my mind wandered.

. . . Sometimes I tried
to think of you. And other times you just bombarded my thoughts
without warning at all. This was one of those times. There was
nothing to remind me of you in this situation. We had never gone
stargazing before and nothing that Logan had said made me think of
you. No, instead, I couldn’t help but wish that we had done this.
It would have been nice. You would have enjoyed it, I’m sure. You
enjoyed being outside, but you absolutely loathed camping. The idea
of being in the wilderness for days without facilities had never
been something that interested you.

I wonder, what would you
think of Logan? Would you agree with me being here with him—alone?
Would you trust him to take care of me and to never hurt me? Would
you trust him to be an honest friend?

And, if by some chance I
found a way to move on from you, would you thank Logan for helping
me heal?

You were always a man I
found others looked up to. People gravitated toward you and your
positive energy. Your kindness was known throughout the high school
we attended, and then later in the community we lived in. You were
always the man outside on the coldest day of winter shoveling the
drives for the people who struggled to complete the task alone. You
never failed to stop on the side of the road to help someone in
need, whether it was to change a flat tire, or to pull them from
the ditch. Your kindness was inspiring.

Are you watching me now?
Do you see the man I will be spending my next month with? Do you
think he’s a nice person?

Logan is so different
from you, Derek. He’s strong in the silent, brooding way so many
women find appealing. He’s thoughtful and quiet and blunt.
Sometimes, he’s just downright hurtful. But I believe, in the
deepest recesses of my heart, that he’s a good man.

He’s teaching me things
I never thought I would ever know. I feel lucky to be here—with
him. I hope you understand and approve of this new friendship I’ve
found. If I know anything about you, you would approve. You always
saw the good in people—even when others didn’t.

I still love you . .
.

“Reese?” Logan was
perched up on his elbow, looking down at me. “Where’d you go?”

Blinking, I shimmied
away from him a few inches. “I was just thinking.”

“No doubt.” Logan lay
back down. “You were staring up at the sky, but you wouldn’t
respond. It was weird.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pointed
up at the stars. “You see that there?” He traced a shape in the sky
with his finger and I followed it. “What do you see?”

“Um,” I followed his
finger again before blurting. “Are you seriously drawing a star in
the stars?”

He chuckled. “I might
have been.”

“Well, you get zero
points for originality.” I teased.

“Hey now,” he played at
offense. “I’m one of a kind!”

I laughed. It felt good.
“Yeah, you’ve got that right.”

“Your turn.” Logan
pointed at the sky. “Draw me a picture and we’ll see if I get it
right.”

I traced my finger in
the sky and watched as his expression twisted. “Seriously? Are you
drawing an L?”

“What? No.” I shook my
head. “Besides, if I were it would be backward. Try again.”

I traced it again and he
replied. “A hockey stick?”

I laughed. “Nope.”

“I have no idea,”

“It’s a right handed
golf club!” I giggled at my feat. “Ha! I win.”

“What makes you think
you won?”

“You couldn’t guess.” I
beamed, rolling on my side to look at him.

“That doesn’t mean you
won, city girl.” He shook his head. “That just means you suck at
star art.”

“Star art?” I raised a
brow. “You’re just a poor loser. I’m damn good at star art.”

He chuckled, rolling
onto his side to face me. Suddenly, the air felt more intimate and
my heart started to beat out of sync. His eyes swept over my face
and I thought for a moment, that he was going to kiss me. I swear,
I stopped breathing.

And then he rolled onto
his back. His breaths were ragged and heavy and I knew his heart
was beating just as fast as mine. Glancing down at the fire, my
diamond ring sparkled in reflection of the flames.

Jumping up from the
sleeping bag, I walked backward to the tent. “I should, uh, go to
bed.” The guilt I felt at the way I had wanted him to kiss me
sounded loud and clear in my voice. It gnawed at my soul.
“Night.”

Then I ran, like the
coward I was, into the safety of the tent.

Seven days had
passed. I now knew how to fish (although I had yet to catch
anything). My relationship with Logan had found a comfortable
place. Sometimes, I found him watching me with a look that made my
heart flutter and my stomach feel all giddy, but for the most part,
we were finding our way around our unusual friendship. We laughed,
teased, and joked all day long.

Thankfully, serious
conversations had been something we steered clear of. I had a
feeling that wasn’t because Logan wanted it that way, but more
because he didn’t want to push me too far past my barriers of
comfort.

I was thankful for his consideration, but I wasn’t sure
how much longer it was going to last. I could see he was getting
tired of dancing around my quirks. We’d already discussed so much
of the mundane (getting to know a person) questions. I knew his
favorite color was red. His favorite food was Christmas (yeah, that
was his answer). I mean, who answers the question of their favorite
food with
Christmas?
Thinking back on
that question, I find myself smiling out over the river.

The sun is high in the
sky, but the water sloshing around my kneecaps is uncomfortably
cold. However, I needed a bath and when you’re living in the
wilderness for a month, the river is kind of the only water
source.

“Pass me the shampoo,
please.” I called to Logan, where he was flopping around in the
water as though the cold had no effect on him.

“Only if you tell me why
you’re smiling.” He bargained. Over the course of our seven days
together, Logan cultivated his talent of bargaining with me for
answers. As annoying as it was, I couldn’t help but think it was
also quite endearing.

“I was thinking about
your favorite food.” I answered.

“Christmas?” He tossed
me the brick of shampoo and it bobbed in the water as I scrambled
to catch it from floating downstream.

Yes, the shampoo was in
the form of a bar of soap. It was one hundred percent natural and
made by Gracie. Apparently, it was way better than anything you
could find in a store, and so far, I agreed. It smelled like honey
and made my hair feel squeaky clean and silky smooth.

“Tell me again how
Christmas got its own food group.” I pleaded playfully.

“Well, you only have
turkey so many times a year. But Christmas is Christmas.” He
shrugged. “You’ve got the turkey, ham, stuffing, gravy, cranberry
sauce, potatoes,” he did a little shiver of pleasure before
continuing. “The broccoli and cauliflower with cheese sauce and
then all the desserts and appetizers. Christmas is my favorite
food.”

I shook my head at him
in wonderment. “You just like food, Logan. All food.”

“Actually, I hate
beans.” He raised his hands. “I know most men like chili, but I
can’t stand the stuff.”

“Me either!” I scrunched
my nose. “The way they squish in my mouth, ew.”

He laughed before eyeing me with a telling
smirk.
Oh, here comes
the teasing.

“You know, you have to
actually get your hair wet to wash it, right?” Logan jabbed
playfully and I rolled my eyes.

“Of course I know that.
Unlike you, my skin actually feels the elements.”

“I feel it.” Logan
assured, wading closer to me. My heart climbed in my chest as I
watched him push through the water. I felt preyed upon and if I
could have run without the threat of face planting in the cold
water, I would have.

“Get away from me!” I
forced a growl into my tone. “Don’t you dare touch me, Logan!”

He laughed, his chin
bobbing in the water. “I can make it real easy for you, city
girl.”

“Ha,” I shook my head,
holding my hands out to keep him away from me. “By pulling my feet
out from under me? I don’t think so.”

“It would make it nice
and quick.” He grinned mischievously. “Like ripping off a band
aid.”

“I don’t like ripping
off a band aid.” I assured. “I take it off nice and slow.”

“You’re a wimp.”

“You’re mean.” I
retorted and blew out a breath of relief when he stood up from the
water to turn his back on me. Oh thank goodness, he was going to
sit on the shore and watch me build up my tolerance to the cold as
he had done the last time we’d come down to the river for a
bath.

Staring at him now, my
mouth nearly watered as I took in the defined lines of his back.
The man was drop dead gorgeous when he was wearing clothes, but
with only his swim trunks on, he was freaking mouth watering.
Stunning. His skin glistened in the sun and I found myself wanting
to run my fingers over the beads of water on his skin.

Shaking my head, I
blurted. “That’s right, you keep walking.”

Logan froze. Slowly, he turned to face me and I
realized my mistake.
Oh shit.
“What was
that?”

I shook my head,
squeaking. “Nothing.”

“Huh,” he cocked his
head to the side. “It didn’t sound like nothing.”

Logan took a challenging
step toward me, and my knees locked. His eyes were locked on mine
and his lips were curled into a roguish grin that had my heart
beating double time. “Logan, don’t!”

“Oh no, city girl,” he
reprimanded. “You asked for it this time.”

And then he darted for
me and I swear I almost peed my bathing suit! I didn’t even have
the sense to run. Instead, I clamped up. My every muscle tightened
and my lips parted in a dreaded squeal as his arm wound around my
waist. With my back pressed tight to his hard chest, he walked
deeper into the relaxed water of the river. Lifting my legs out of
the water, I clutched tight to his arm.

“Please don’t throw me.”
I pleaded. “I’ve never swam in a river before.”

“I would never throw you
in water you couldn’t handle yourself in, Reese.” Logan’s tone was
scolding.

“Okay,” my teeth were
already chattering at the thought of being submerged in the icy
waters. “I can’t handle the cold.”

He chuckled, “You should
have thought of that when you were taunting me.”

“I’m sorry!” I wailed.
“Please, Logan.”

“What do I get if I pass
up on this lovely chance at throwing you into the water?”

“What?” I wiggled in his
arms, resting my feet on his muscled thigh. I was practically
climbing up his body to keep from being dunked. “What do you
want?”

“I want to be able to
ask you any question, and you’ll answer me.”

That was the one bargain
I couldn’t make. I knew what he would ask me. I knew it like I knew
the sun would rise in the morning. Logan wanted to know what Derek
had done to hurt me. I didn’t want to have to tell him, out loud,
that all he’d done was die.

“I can’t.” I
whispered.

“Then in you go,” he
lurched forward and I clutched his neck, bringing him down into the
cold with me.

Water rushed over my
face and body, but miraculously, all I could feel was the heat of
Logan’s skin against mine. Somehow, in the fall, I had turned
around to face him. Now, my front was pressed tight against his.
The bare skin of my belly was flush against the hard muscle of his
stomach. His arms were wound around my waist and his hands were
pressed flat against my back. My own arms were around his neck and
the shampoo brick was pressed against the base of his hairline. We
were both breathing heavy and when I looked up into his eyes I saw
something dangerous.

Desire.

I knew I should push
away from him. But I didn’t. Because I felt desire for him burning
inside of me. And I hadn’t desired anyone in so long.

“Reese,” his voice was
gravelly and I watched his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed. It
was only when his head dipped down to mine that my heart picked up
speed and my mind began working rationally.