She: Part 2 (37 page)

His eyes are on the screen, reading another joke, but his mouth makes an O of understanding at my words. A second later he erupts into laughter again, before eagerly showing me the cause. I read it through once without any reaction, then making sure that I didn’t miss something, I read it again.
Nope
,
still nothing
.

Confessing my ignorance, I say, “I don’t understand.”

“What about this?” Logan shows me another one which completely floored him, but I fail to grasp it.

I shake my head. Then with a mischievous smile, I assure him, “But I promise you, I’ll laugh when you say it tonight.”

* * *

My afternoon is full of learning more about Logan’s family. We meet them at a place called Segway Central, where our tour will begin from. Mary-Gene and Rupert say a flustered hello, shoving droves of shopping bags into the lockers provided. Clearly their morning involved retail therapy. Taylor hangs back raising a hand to say hello, as Karen and Abigail bound towards us. Abigail soon releases her mother’s hand and breaks into a run, jumping into Logan’s arms. He catches her easily and lifts her up.

“Abby, this is Gemima,” he introduces us.

The gorgeous blonde-haired five-and-a-half year old, may have been excited to meet me, but she suddenly becomes adorably shy now that she is.

“Hello, Abby,” I smile.

She grins back and mumbles a responding hello as she buries her face into Logan’s shoulder. The sight of them is too much for me.
Be still my beating heart
, I think dramatically. In the back of my mind I’m reminded of Mary-Gene’s comment — there really
is
something sexy about men and kids. Sure enough when I look at Logan’s mother again she gives me a knowing wink which makes me giggle.

I turn my attention to Karen, a thin, willowy brunette with hair that comes down to her midriff and dark brown eyes. It wasn’t evident in the photo that I’ve seen of her, but up close she has a definite Native American bloodline. She smiles, immediately giving off warmer vibes than her husband.

“Gemima, it’s so wonderful to meet you,” she says, striding forward to hug me.

“You too,” I smile back at her. I know instantly that we’ll get along. There is a mutual interest, curiosity, kinship in the way we greet each other. It’s similar to how I felt when I first met Amber, and I suddenly realise that romantic relationships aren’t the only ones that spark instantly.

With his niece in his arms, Logan walks over to his brother.

Taylor greets him by saying, “You messed up the booking for this, Logan. She’s too small to go on one of these,” he says, referring to Abby and the Segways.

Oh,
shit
! Her age never even occurred to me! “I’m so sorry,” I say, hurrying forward. “I, uh, booked it,” I explain. A flicker of annoyance towards Taylor courses through me — that shouldn’t be the first thing that you say to your brother, I think.

Taylor looks taken aback, before his expression changes to one of annoyance as well. It’s as though he
wants
Logan to be the one to blame for the cock-up. It abruptly occurs to me that that’s exactly what he wants. It’s very telling of his character.

“Oh, I thought—” Taylor begins.

Joining us, Karen cuts her husband off, saying, “Why would you even bring that up? It’s already been sorted,” she reveals.

Phew
.

“The company does bike tours as well,” Rupert tells us. “So I’m going to cycle along side you, with Abigail on the back,” he explains.

Logan claps Taylor’s shoulder. “See, absolutely no need to get your panties in a twist,” he teases him. Then giving me a reassuring smile he leaves our little circle to go over and say hello to his mom.

“Could you try not to be a dick today,” Karen mumbles to Taylor, who’s eyes are on Logan’s back, his contempt obvious.

My American Mouth rises so fast that I simply cannot hold it back. “Do you automatically assume that everything is Logan’s fault?” I ask. Internally, I shudder at my own brazenness. I don’t usually say things like that! I think them, sure, but I’m not one for open confrontation. Taylor’s eyes narrow infinitesimally, and he and I have a stare-off. Albeit one that lasts only a second, but it’s plenty of time for the equal dislike to cement between us.

Karen sighs and answers, “Yes, unfortunately. Just have a nice day, baby,” she coos to him, kissing his cheek.

“Sure,” Taylor nods, and it would seem that his mood is changed.

* * *

Standing on the Segway proves far easier than I anticipated. Operating it, however, leaves something to be desired. After five strained minutes in the practise ring, I’m already mentally preparing the angry email that I’ll send the designers, listing several flaws. But when I look up and see everyone else moving smoothly along the ground, I realise that it’s me, not the machine.
Of course
, I think. I relax a little and study Logan’s body, his posture and small movements, as he moves in circles around me. I’m not perving, I’m simply watching to see how better I can operate this thing, I think slyly. Five minutes later and my imagined email has somewhat calmed as I begin to get to grips with how to move fluidly, turn successfully, and come to a stop without my heart pounding manically as I fear for my life. I remind myself, several times, that
I
booked this; it’s supposed to be fun, something that we can all enjoy together.

Mercifully, that’s exactly what we do. Karen, Mary-Gene, and I spend the afternoon zooming around side-by-side, talking amongst ourselves. Rupert cycles ahead of us, with Abigail on a child’s bike which is attached to the back of his, and Logan and Taylor lead the pack, racing each other, fooling around much to the annoyance of our tour guide, and behaving for all intents and purposes how I expect brothers to be with one another.

Why can
’
t they always be like that
, I wonder. Why does every interaction have to be marred by Taylor’s bad attitude? His smiles and laughter certainly seem evidential of his happiness right now. Why can’t he stay in that mindset? What makes him
always
revert back to his old begrudging ways?

I’m tempted to quiz Karen about it. Undoubtedly she’s the one who knows him the best, and maybe she could offer an insight that would explain his behaviour and therefor result in me liking him a little bit more. But as we wheel our way around Paris, I don’t say a word on the subject. He and Logan are happy right now, I should just let that be, I think. I don’t want to pry or be a nuisance, and besides, us three ladies have much more interesting things to talk about than Taylor — shopping being at the forefront.

Two fast-moving hours later, the tour concludes where it started. I’ve been so engaged with our conversations that I couldn’t say with certainty which sights we’ve seen and which we haven’t. Despite this, I’ve had a wonderful time with Logan’s mother and sister-in-law. I’m delighted to know that whenever Logan and I use those plane tickets to Charleston, we’ll be received there warmly.

We travel back on the metro as a group and at the bottom of Logan’s apartment building, the seven of us go our separate ways, Logan and I upstairs, and his family across the road to the hotel. Checking the time on my phone I realise that we’ve only got forty-five minutes to primp and preen for our big evening out. That’s a tight turnaround! I grab Logan’s hand and pull him hastily towards the elevator, and once inside I study my reflection on the mirrored wall, determining how much work I’ve got to do to look presentable.
Not a lot
, I note,
just a freshen up all over
, I think.

Once upstairs, I hurry through to the bathroom to take a quick body shower. When I’m out Logan takes my place and as I stand in a bathrobe in front of the vanity mirror reapplying my makeup, making everything darker and more prominent, I watch him in the reflection.

His entire body is a work of art. Taut, with defined muscles, but not overly bulky. The water cascades over his silken skin and I watch it fall down, down. He doesn’t have to be hard to turn me on. The sight of his penis hanging loosely causes heat to rise in me, and distracts me so badly that I end up with very uneven eyeliner.

Focus
,
Gem
, I scold myself.

Giving myself a less erotic distraction, I start whistling one of my favourite tunes as I finish my blush, apply my favourite red lip stain which stands out against my blue eyes, and fix my long, dark hair into a half up, half down arrangement. Logan steps out of the shower, whistling too, and walks to the dressing room next door, keeping beat with me.
We
’
re so dorky right now
, I can’t stop myself from thinking.
I love it
. Feeling inspired, I then break out into full singing voice, really going for it, high notes and all, and I can hear Logan laughing at my enthusiasm.

Several loudly sung songs later, I leave my post in front of the mirror and unexpectedly bump into him just outside of the door. Not anticipating the collision I rebound off of his solid chest and stumble backwards, but his hands quickly grip my upper arms to stop me from falling. We look at each other, slightly dazed.

I forget the surprise encounter at lightning speed, however, because the arm length distance between us gives me space enough to take in his impressive appearance. My mouth is slack as I ogle him for the second time in the last twenty minutes. He’s fully dressed, back into that light-grey suit which he wore last weekend. My reaction is exactly the same as it was then — I go weak at the knees and swoon on the spot. He is
beyond
gorgeous.

The only difference to his attire is that now he’s thoughtfully wearing a light-green tie which matches the colour of my dress from the weekend, and one of my choices for tonight.
Oh
,
Logan
! Excitement courses through me, my mind immediately made up — that’s the dress I’m wearing.

Watching me watching him, Logan starts laughing.
Jeez
, he’s just
such
a sexy man! Quietly he asks me, “Is this suit some sort of aphrodisiac for you?”

“Uh-huh,” I nod vehemently, my heart beating double what it was only a moment ago. I step eagerly closer to him, and wrap my arms around his waist, my hands settling on his backside, which I squeeze. It’s delicious, even fully clothed. I reach up and kiss him ardently. The first time I saw him in this suit I wanted desperately to undress him immediately, but I held back.
No hold backs tonight
, I think slyly, giving his ass another tight squeeze.

“Evening, Gemima,” Karen’s voice says loudly, making me jump in shock.

Fuck
! I’m abruptly brought back down to earth.
When did they arrive
, my mind screams. I immediately release my hold of Logan’s backside and retreat my hands, resting my head defeatedly against Logan’s chest as he laughs heartily.

“We have company,” he tells me, too late.

“You think?” I say sarcastically, making him laugh even more.

Unbeknownst to me, Logan’s broad structure blocked from my view the sight of his entire family. I peer over his shoulder and see them all already dressed, sitting leisurely in the living room, with a perfect line of sight of my grabby hands. They must’ve arrived while I was singing my heart out.
Dammit
!

“Evening,” I call back.

Amusement is evident on every face except for Taylor’s. That man is such a mood-kill, I think instantly, beginning to get used it.

I half-giggle, half-grimace before hurrying into the dressing room, rolling my eyes at myself.
Nice one
,
Gem
! Logan follows me, closing the door and leaning against it, watching me. The grin that’s on his face turns from admiring to amorous when I let my bathrobe fall open. He looks at me with that mixture of love and desire that I revel in receiving.

“Weren’t you on the way to the bathroom?” I ask him, though I’m rather pleased by his detour.

“Yes,” he says, remaining motionless. “But this is a much better distraction.”

“From what?” I say, now naked and riffling through one of my bags for suitable underwear for under my dress.

“My nerves,” he reveals, though he looks far from nervous right now. His eyes are alight as he asks me, “Have I told you how beautiful your body is?”

“Yes,” I smile at him. “Once or twice.” That’s the understatement of the century. His free-flowing compliments thrill me every time. “Perhaps it’ll distract you even more if I tell you that Amber suggested that I go panty-less tonight, and instead shove my unmentionables into your jacket pocket.”

Chuckling, Logan says, “Your best friend has some very good ideas, doesn’t she?”

“Do you think?”

“The mirrors, and now this.”

“
This
is not a good idea, Logan,” I assure him, pulling my underwear very much
on
. “
All
I can see in my mind is you walking across a stage tonight to give your speech, and in front of however-many-people you put your hand into your jacket pocket to pull out your notes and instead my underwear falls out!”

Logan’s body is silently shaking as he laughs at my premonition.

“Buddy will shout:
those are Gemima
’
s
…and both you and I will die of embarrassment. Is that what you really want?” I ask, walking over to him and leaning against his body.

His arms encase me, his lips find mine, and he kisses me headily. It’s a kiss that makes me feel drunk, hazy, and completely intoxicated by him.

I’m breathless when we break apart. “Will you always laugh at my strange, silly quirks?” I ask him quietly.

He grins broadly and nods vehemently.

“Will you always kiss me like that?”

“Always, baby.”

“Will you marry me?” I smile.

“You stole my fucking line,” Logan laughs immediately. “But, yes, I will,” he says, his voice softer, before kissing me once more and my level of intoxication skyrockets.

“Your tablet thingy is ringing, Logan,” Karen shouts to us a moment later.

We break part, both breathing heavily.

“Alright,” Logan calls back.

Reluctantly I leave the retreat of his embrace and hurriedly step into my dress. Logan zips it up for me, as I flatten the front, giving myself a very hasty once over in the long mirror. Then I step into my heels, and my outfit is complete.