Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology (87 page)

H
er heated
embarrassment turned into to icy dread. “What?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” She grabbed her wine glass, then pushed it out of the way. Water. She needed water, and a lot of it. Her mouth was suddenly very dry.

He waited for her to take a desperate swallow of water that did nothing, then he nudged her plate closer to her. “Seriously. Finish eating. Then we can take a walk on the beach.”

“I don’t think I have an appetite anymore.”

“We did a serious amount of hiking today. You need to refuel.”

“Logan!” She darted out her hand and grabbed his fingers. “That doesn’t matter right now.”

“It always matters.” He twisted his wrist around so he was holding her hand. Always had to be in charge. Always had to take care of her.

Damn him. Tears pricked behind her eyelashes and she closed her eyes.

The gentle rub of his thumb against the inside of her wrist had her slowly blinking them open again. He gave her a rueful smile. “Please eat.”

How could she? But he wanted them to be okay. And if they were okay, they wouldn’t let a fancy meal go to waste. Her smile in return was more watery, but she pasted it on. “You too.”

“Yeah.”

They finished a bit more of their meal in silence. Neither cleared their plate, but they both stopped eating at the same time, and Logan gestured for the waiter, who brought a slip for him to sign the meal back to their room.

When she pushed her chair back, he was out of his and around to pull out her chair before she could stand up.

She murmured her thanks as he pressed his palm into the small of her back, guiding her out of the restaurant. Questions and nerves jockeyed for top position as he steered her directly onto the small path heading down to the beach.

His hand didn’t leave her body, not even when she paused to kick off her heels. He toed out of his dress shoes and flicked off his socks with one hand.

A breeze picked up as they crested the dunes, making her shiver. Logan was behind her in a flash, his arms wrapping around her as their shoes clattered to the sand.

“This okay?”

That he had to keep asking meant that it almost certainly wasn’t. But it felt more than okay. It felt right. She nodded and leaned back against him, hoping the warmth of his body would transfer to her, and melt the fear frozen around her heart. “What are we doing?”

“Watching the ocean.”

She stared at the inky blackness in front of them. Listened to the churning, crashing waves. Imagined the man behind her silently wading out off that in his scuba gear and disappearing into the scruffy brush, off to save the world on behalf of their country. “I’m proud of you,” she said abruptly. “You’re the bravest, smartest man I’ve ever known. If I ever gave you the impression otherwise, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t.” He rubbed his face against her hair.

“Then what did I say to you?” She couldn’t remember ever telling him he wasn’t good enough. He’d always been her selfless hero. Always would be.

“Ahh, Tor.” He groaned and his hands slid lower around her waist, his arms circling her hips now.

The urge to rock back against him was overwhelming.

There was something effed up about this island, clearly. It had messed with their pheromones.

“It wasn’t one thing,” he finally said, his voice cracking. “But everything, really. When your parents split and your mom took off for New Mexico, and you told me—”

She gasped. “I’d never leave my dad. I’d never be so selfish to run away from Atlanta like that.” She remembered the conversation. They’d been lying under the magnolia tree in the park. He’d blocked them off from the world with their bikes set up as a barrier around them, and given her all the tissues he could stuff in his pockets. She still got snot on his shirt. “But I was twelve! And I don’t even like my dad anymore. Most of the time.”

“Yeah, but you still won’t leave him.”

The truth of that stabbed her right in the heart. No, probably not. “He has golf. He doesn’t need daughters.”

“Too bad he was blessed with three. A fact you strangely feel guilty for, even though you’re amazing and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Let’s not fight about my dad.”

He laughed quietly in her ear. “Let’s not fight about anything.”

“Deal.” She twisted out of his arms and paced toward the water. When she turned around, he was just watching her, his hands tucked into his pockets. She licked her lips, tasting the salt in the air. “What else?”

“Home Ec, freshman year.”

She rolled her eyes. Was all his evidence from when she was a stupid teenager? “What did I say?”

He shrugged, and she could tell even in the moonlight he looked a little embarrassed. “More of what you wrote.”

She was totally confused. “Oh, for goodness sake, Logan, just tell me!”

“When we had the flour sack baby. In your parenting journal, you wrote—”

“You read my parenting journal?” No wonder he was embarrassed, the rat fink bastard. “That was private!”

“Well, you were such a good fake-baby mom, and I didn’t know what to put in my journal, so I thought I’d just get an idea or two.”

Instead, he’d read…her cheeks flushed at the memory. She’d
loved
that stupid nylon-covered weighted sack. And she’d written a lot about how the experiment was preparing her for adulthood and motherhood, something she couldn’t wait to experience. How mortifying that must have been for a fifteen-year-old boy to read about his best friend. “Those were just the fantasy musings of a teenage girl,” she said tightly. “And apparently, they made you run screaming for the hills.”

“I wasn’t the guy for you.”

“Made that decision all by yourself, huh?” Hot tears welled unexpectedly in her eyes. “Well, I ended up going a totally different path anyway.”

“It wasn’t just that. It was…everything. You were smart and ambitious. And you wanted the same in a partner, even in high school. You didn’t give a guy a second glance if he wasn’t college-bound. And that never changed, did it? You’ve got a type. Well-educated, professional, family-oriented—”

“Loyal to a fault. Clever. Capable. Strong. You don’t think all of those would be desirable traits?”

“I wasn’t any of those things back then.” His voice cracked, and with it went her heart. Oh, Logan.

“You didn’t have to leave.”

“You didn’t have to stay.”

There it was. Because she had thought about following him—and when she didn’t, she’d sealed their fate. Would her choice have been any different if she’d known he loved her as more than a friend? “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to know.”

“Then why did you kiss me today?”

“Because I was weak.”

Oh, that was the wrong answer. Fury filled her. Again, she wasn’t enough. And too much at the same time. Too tempting, when that had never been her intention. But even then, even when he gave in some base desire, she wasn’t enough for anything else. The tears were gonna fall any second, and she was not going to give him that as well.

No, she’d given him enough for one day.

And she’d given men in general more than enough for an entire lifetime.

Tori was done with a capital d. Done.

With an outraged growl, she stormed past him and grabbed her high heels from the top of the dune. Then she took off at a run, adrenaline pushing her faster and faster as she flew up the dark path, heading anywhere but where Logan was.

T
here wasn’t
a chance in hell he was letting her run into the night without giving chase. Swearing under his breath, Logan grabbed his shoes and took off after her. The sand gave way to a wooden boardwalk, then a smooth cement path. He didn’t run on concrete in his bare feet that often—he wasn’t an idiot—but his dress shoes weren’t meant for running in either, and he wasn’t slowing down to put them on.

He caught up to her as they passed the first resort building, but he didn’t close the gap.

Sometimes a hard run was just the cathartic release someone needed.

She was pumping her arms, her heels dangling from one hand, as she rounded the corner toward their villa, and then the hypnotic pattern was broken as she lifted her other hand and swiped at her face.

He slowed down.

Shit. She was crying.

He’d made Tori cry.

That realization tore his chest open more efficiently than any military-grade weaponry ever could. His steps faltered further, and he stopped twenty feet short of the villa.

But he had the key.

So when she sagged against the door to their private, shared vacation space, he had to go to her, even though he was a total shit.

“Me coming was a mistake,” he said roughly as he stopped again behind her.

She lifted her head and squared her shoulders. She didn’t look back over her shoulder. “Just let me in.”

He reached past her, unable to stop himself from breathing in the sweet scent of her skin as he used his keycard to open the door. “I’ll go find another room for myself.”

“Don’t be an idiot. You have another room in here.”

“But—”

“I may not want to talk to you right now, but you’re still my Logan and I’m going to want to have breakfast with you in the morning. So shut up with that bullshit.”

He shut up.

She headed straight to her room and closed the door. He went to the fridge and found a six-pack of premium beer.

Those would get him buzzed as good as anything else.

He grabbed them, and what remained of the fruit tray, and threw himself onto the sofa. So much for fine. So much for keeping shit to himself.

So much for being her best friend.

* * *

A
ll night
, Tori dreamed of Logan’s arms. For most of her life, he’d been hugging her, and she’d taken it for granted—how easy it was, how comforting and warm. Safe.

As dawn broke, pink-gray light slowly filling her room, she lay in bed wishing that morning would hit the pause button—just until she figured out how she felt about everything, because now the thought of his arms wrapped around her filled her with panic. She was hyper-aware of being a sexual object to him…and while she’d given lip service to the idea of a meaningless fling, that just wasn’t how she was built. Sex had to mean something, be an expression of the feelings in a relationship.

She couldn’t sleep with someone because she had a moment of weakness. And it distressed her that Logan could so easily see her as someone like that. A temporary, disposable fuck buddy.

She wasn’t so much of a prude that she’d put that same standard on kissing.

But what they’d done beneath the waterfall…it hadn’t felt like a kiss to test the waters.

She jerked upright and shoved her blankets off her legs. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” She tripped over her feet as she tried to jump out of bed, suddenly quite certain their conversation the previous night had gone in the wrong direction. She stopped in the bathroom to take her pill and brush her teeth, then was out her bedroom door before she realized that she was just wearing a thin tank top and a pair of tiny sleep shorts.

Well, did it really matter? He’d seen her in less.

Hell, he’d kissed her in less.

But now that she was standing in front of his bedroom door, her momentary bravado was sliding fast and furiously away.

Maybe she needed coffee.

Yes.

Coffee.

She ran to the living room and opened the door to the villa. Sure enough, the magical creatures that delivered their breakfast had already been there, and she brought in the rolling cart with the covered trays and the precious carafe of strong, black goodness.

She poured herself a cup and took a long, fortifying sip. Then another and another, until the mug was empty.

“Is that breakfast?” Logan rumbled from the hallway.

She spun around. He was wearing…not much. Her heart skipped a beat as he stretched his arms wide, then scrubbed his fingers through his hair. His abs and chest and shoulders all rippled as he went through the waking-up process right in front of her, and the cargo shorts he’d pulled on—but not fully buttoned up—rode low enough on his hips that she could see the indentation of the muscles there.

“Yep. Coffee?”

He nodded, but didn’t move any closer.

She poured him a mug and added his preferred half-a-spoon of sugar and tiny splash of cream. Her heart pounding, she took it over to him. “Here. And…good morning.”

He looked at the mug in her extended hand, then back up to her face. Up close, she could see he hadn’t slept well, either, and his face was tight and serious. “Morning.”

He didn’t take the coffee.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like shit.” He grimaced. “About last night—”

“I’ll just put this down for you.” She set the mug down on the nearest counter, then turned back to him—and found him very, very close.

Not touching. But close and warm and big, and—

Stop thinking about his body
, she told herself.
You never thought about it before yesterday. Go back to that. You’re an expert in not noticing how sexy he is.

But his eyes were dark, bottomless pools that pulled her in and wouldn’t let her go. “I’m not very good at this,” he said, his voice full of gravel. “Clearly, I said the wrong thing last night, came on too strong or something, and I want to fix that.”

She forced herself to take a step back. Her chest ached. Yes, she wanted to burrow into his chest and let him hold her and tell her it would all work out.

But she wasn’t sure that was what was going to happen, so until she was sure, she was staying safely out of touching range.

Logan’s touch was far too distracting to trust—like the rest of him now.

“Drink your coffee,” she said, trying to desperately remember the now clear-as-mud plan she’d had when she woke up.

Right.

She’d wanted to storm into his room.

And then she’d chickened out—which she was doing all over again right now.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he reached for the mug and slowly lifted it to his mouth. His eyes never left her face, so she did the only thing she could think of. She turned around and busied herself with setting breakfast on the table.

When she turned around again, Logan’s eyes were trained right where her butt had been and he was doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he had an erection.

“Breakfast?” she asked weakly.

“Nope.” He put his mug down. “We need to clear some shit up first.”

“I don’t want to,” she blurted out. Her face flamed. Yes, she did. But she didn’t. Not if it was going to be bad.

But if it might be good?

The erection promised good stuff, right?

Or he was just a guy who got horny at the sight of an available ass.

Not that her butt was available.

Except…it was. Maybe.

He frowned. “Tor, we can’t put the genie back in the bottle. I want you. I can’t hide that any longer.”

“I see that,” she whispered. In fact, she really couldn’t take her eyes off it.

Now who was objectifying who?

“He’s not going to bite.” He laughed. “Although I could. If you want me to.”

A little squeak slipped past her lips and she pressed them tighter together as she shook her head. No biting. Heat flooded through her at the idea of his teeth on her skin. Definitely…no biting. At all. Not even on her nipples, or her inner thighs, or…

He moved closer and she stepped back. He reached for her hand and she spun around. His back collided with hers and once again she was in his arms, his fingers grazing the line of skin along her belly where her tank only sort of met her shorts.

She closed her eyes as he held her tight, his breath sweeping across her temple. His mouth settled next to her ear. “I love you.”

“I know, I love you, too.”

“No.” His palms spread wide against her sides. Her heart hammered hard in her chest, not wanting to imagine that the touch was possessive, but knowing it was—for better or for worse. “I love you, love you. With my heart and soul and all that shit.”

“Don’t go getting all romantic on me,” she said weakly, because even in his characteristically curt way, she knew what he meant—and it made her head spin.

“I didn’t want to stop yesterday. I thought I should, so I did, because I always want to do right by you. But you gotta know it took every ounce of willpower I had.”

“Logan…”

“I’m right here.”

She pressed her eyes shut and gave in to the heat blooming inside her. The hot, hungry desire he’d ignited. “What did you want to do?”

“Everything.” He groaned and pressed his face into her hair. “I wanted to strip you out of your swimsuit and taste you all over. I wanted to sink inside you and mark you from the inside out. I want you to be mine, Tori. I’m not fooling around here.”

“This is crazy.”

“Yeah. Totally insane. Doesn’t change the fact that’s how I feel about you. And I know this is the worst time to tell you. I get that. But I kissed you, and I can’t take that back. And somehow I gave you the erroneous impression that I was conflicted about that, about wanting you. I’m not. Maybe I should have told you sooner,” he muttered in her ear.

Her heart lurched. “That would have been just as hard,” she whispered, twisting her head so she could see his profile. “And what would have been the point?”

He rolled his shoulders, the planes of his chest hard as they bumped against her back. “Maybe there wasn’t, then. Maybe we needed to wait.”

“You’re still on the other side of the country, Logan.”

“Not right now. Not every time I’ve visited you.”

“And I’ve come to you. But then we have to say goodbye again.”

“Maybe now we’ll stop saying goodbye, and start saying…” He shrugged. “I dunno. How about, ‘I can’t wait to do it all over again?’”

“Do what?”

He squeezed her hips with his hands as he turned her slowly, reverently, and lifted her up to sit on the counter. His face softened as he leaned in close and cupped her cheeks in his hands. “This.”