Chapter 2
LOGAN
The expression on Pip’s face is priceless. Her chocolate brown eyes widen in surprise as her pouty lips form into an O.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” I tease.
I bite back a groan when that tongue peeks out and wets her lips. Damn, she has no idea what that does to me.
“How long are you staying?” she asks, carefully ignoring my loaded question.
“Trying to get rid of me already?” Just for the hell of it, I wink.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m a flirty guy. You’d think Rosie would be used to it by now, but it never fails to make her cheeks flush. One of my favorite things about her, if I’m honest.
“No.” Pip coughs out a nervous laugh. “I’m just curious if you’re going to be here the whole weekend.”
“That’s the plan,” I reply. “Why? Do you have a hot date coming?”
My fists clench as I think about some random dude showing up here. There’d only be one reason he’d do that, and it doesn’t sit well with me, irrational as that may be.
“No.” She frowns. “Do you?”
And just like that, the tension in my shoulders melts away.
“Nope.” I grin. “Looks like it’s just the two of us.”
Rosie swallows as her eyes shift toward the hallway. “Well, since there’s only one bed, and you’ve been using it all week, I guess I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Oh, hell no.
“Not going to happen, Pip. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
She rolls her eyes again. “Don’t be ridiculous, Logan. You’re, like, a foot taller than me, and your legs would hang off the edge.”
“So?” I challenge. “Do you really think that matters to me?”
“Well, it matters to me,” Rosie huffs, propping a hand on her hip. “I know you’re trying to be chivalrous or whatever because that’s how you roll, but you can’t deny it makes a lot more sense for the shorter person to take the couch.”
“As obstinate as ever,” I mutter. “Look. How about we table this argument for now? We have the whole day ahead of us. We can figure out our sleeping arrangements when it’s actually time for bed.”
Great, now I’m imagining Rosie in bed. Or me with Rosie in bed. I will my dick to drop that line of thinking, but it’s much easier said than done.
“Fine.”
The air feels thick with tension, like a rubber band on the verge of snapping.
I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of prosecco out of the wine fridge, hoping to lighten the mood. “You want a drink?”
“It’s eleven in the morning,” she points out.
I open the main fridge and grab some orange juice. “Mimosa, then?”
Her laughter echoes softly around the cabin, chasing away some of the heaviness between us. “I mean, I am technically on vacation, so why the hell not?”
“That’s my girl.” I wink again just to see her cheeks pinken some more. “Have you eaten yet? I don’t have much to offer, but if you’re hungry, I can do eggs and toast.”
She crosses the room and takes a seat at the kitchen island. “Eggs and toast would be great.”
“Consider it done.”
As I crack eggs into the sizzling skillet, I let my gaze linger on her face. The cabin feels smaller with Rosie here, though not in a bad way. There’s an undercurrent of awareness in the air, I think. It’s subtle, but impossible to ignore.
I can’t remember the last time I was alone with this woman, but one thing I know for sure. I won’t waste the opportunity. I did enough of that when we were kids.
Rosie leans her elbows on the granite countertop, sipping her mimosa. “When are you heading home?”
“Next Saturday,” I reply, flipping the eggs with a practiced flick of the wrist.
“And you came here for a quiet vacay?”
I nod. “Things are about to get really crazy at work, so this is my attempt to ward off the inevitable burnout I feel during an acquisition. I figured a change of pace would be good, and you can’t really find peace and quiet in LA.
Or snow,” I add, gesturing toward the wall of windows where large flakes are steadily falling. “What about you? Long weekend?”
She nods. “Yeah. My flight leaves Tuesday morning.”
“So, you’re stuck with me for three whole days then.”
Rosie’s teeth press into her lower lip. “And nights.”
“And nights,” I repeat with a smile, thinking about our one-bed situation.
I don’t care how stubborn she is. There’s no way I’m letting Rosie sleep on the couch.
And knowing her, there’s no way she’ll let me sleep on it either.
She wasn’t kidding when she said I’d hang off of the damn thing.
This is a one-bedroom cabin, which leaves us with only one option.
I’ll be hard as a rock all night, dying to touch her, but I can be a gentleman if that’s what she wants.
But I really fucking hope that’s not what she wants. The universe has handed me the perfect chance, and I’d be a fool not to grab onto it.
I slide the golden, flawlessly cooked eggs onto two plates and add a couple slices of toasted sourdough. Placing the dish in front of her, I join her at the island with my breakfast and freshly topped-off mimosa.
“Thanks, this looks amazing,” she says, her eyes lighting up as she takes her first bite. “I was planning to hit the grocery store on the way here,” she continues. “But then Sylvie called, and I got distracted.”
“We should go into town after we eat,” I suggest. “I was planning on it anyway. The weather forecast calls for heavy snow this weekend, so it’s better to be prepared.”
Rosie nods in agreement, sipping her drink. “Sounds like a plan.”
“How’s Sylvie doing, anyway? She recently got married and had a baby, right?”
“She’s disgustingly happy.” Rosie laughs, her eyes sparkling with genuine affection for her cousin. “Living in oversexed wedded bliss—her words, not mine.”
“Oversexed wedded bliss, huh?” I grin. “Sounds like my kind of marriage.”
The laughter fades as we share a prolonged look until Rosie sets her glass down with a soft clink. “Do you ever see yourself settling down and getting married? You know, in the future?”
Her question is heavy with implications, so I take a moment, considering my answer carefully.
“I’m definitely not opposed to it,” I finally say, meeting her gaze squarely.
“With the right woman. If I ever get to that point in life, I want it to be a onetime deal. You know?” I clear my throat.
“What about you? One minute I’m getting an invitation to your wedding, and the next, you’re no longer engaged. What happened there?”
I can’t say I wasn’t relieved when Rosie called off her engagement.
There’s no way I would’ve skipped the wedding, given how close I am to her family, but the thought of watching her marry a guy who clearly didn’t deserve her had been eating me alive.
Hell, if I’m being honest with myself, I can’t stand the thought of her marrying anyone else, no matter how awesome the guy might be.
I don’t normally believe in woo-woo stuff, but the fact that Rosie’s here with me on the day she was supposed to marry that douchebag, makes me wonder if there are cosmic forces at play, finally working with me instead of against me.
What I don’t know is why Rosie left him.
The only time I get to see her these days are during Morales family get-togethers.
They’re a tight-knit group, so that happens on a fairly regular basis, but I can’t exactly get her alone under her brother’s watchful eye.
I’ve thought about asking Ry more than a few times, but I didn’t want him to get suspicious about the reason behind my curiosity.
Rosie sighs, the lightness in her eyes dimming.
“Well, it’s about as cliché as it gets. He proposed last Valentine’s Day, and as you know, we planned to get married this Valentine’s Day.
But right before Christmas, I caught him in bed with our neighbor.
I’d left to do some last-minute shopping, but when I got to my car and realized I’d forgotten my phone, I went back upstairs to grab it.
I was gone less than ten minutes, Logan.
They must’ve been waiting for me to leave the apartment and jumped into bed the second I walked out the door. ”
I curse under my breath, gut clenching at the thought of someone hurting her like that.
“Afterward…Julian admitted they’d been having an affair since last June.
The asshole begged me to stay. Said she meant nothing to him and promised it would never happen again.
But I was done the moment I caught them.
He was screwing her in our bed. The cheating was bad enough, but that felt like an extra level of betrayal.
You know? So, I packed my shit and stayed with my parents for a couple of weeks until I could find a new place.
Sylvie saw them at Starbucks just last week, and she was sporting a shiny new rock on her left hand, so clearly she means something to him. ”
“He’s a dumbass.”
And so am I, apparently. I spent Christmas Day at her parents’ place, but I had no idea she’d been living there at the time. How in the hell did I miss that?
“Thanks, Logan.” She gives me a dejected smile. “But really, it’s fine. I dodged a major bullet. Better to find out before the I dos, right?”
“Definitely.” I nod, then decide to change the subject to something lighter, because I can’t bear the sadness in her eyes. “But hey, on the bright side, at least you didn’t end up as fodder for StarBuzz.”
I feel ten feet tall when her eyes brighten, and her laughter fills the room again. “Oh, the poor billionaire bachelor. Must be tough, your tragic life of luxury surrounded by a bevy of babes.”
“First of all, I think bevy is a bit of an exaggeration.” I shoot her a mock glare. “Second, I never asked for this pseudo-fame I’ve somehow acquired, and I certainly don’t understand why the paparazzi give a single shit about me. Got any professional insight?”
Rosie works for a PR firm that manages A-list celebrities, so she’s no stranger to those vultures.
“Well…you can’t exactly stumble out of nightclubs with actresses and supermodels in Los Angeles and not get noticed by the paps. Not when you look like you could be a leading man yourself.”