Chapter Twenty-Four
“I really am sorry I was so sharp,” Tris said as she met his gaze. “It just stung so much, both that you were treated that way and that it mattered at all to you what that…that woman thought. If she was capable of thought at all.”
He kept his hold on her hand, and she was glad of it, for the warmth but especially the contact. She’d seen the flash in those green eyes of his when she’d betrayed her feelings, telling him he was someone she could more than like. She didn’t want to read too much into a simple look, but something in the way he was looking at her now enabled her to go on.
“Do you really feel that way, Logan? That what she did somehow makes you…less?”
He lowered his eyes and was silent for a long moment, staring down at their clasped hands as if he’d never seen anything like that before. He started to pull away, but she held on, remembering what he’d said about his hands, these strong, working hands, being too rough to touch her.
Finally, he spoke.
“I…did. When I was little.” He looked as if he was sorry he’d even answered her, but he kept going, with a wry twist of his mouth. “Hard not to when the other kids are calling you Dump, short for dumpster.”
She made a little sound, not quite managing to stifle the pained gasp that rose to her lips. As a teacher, she knew how cruel some kids could be, but that didn’t make this any easier to hear. She quickly lowered her gaze to the table. And their hands. When she thought she could without the gleam of tears in her eyes showing, she looked back up at him.
“Is it too much to hope you trounced them when you weren’t so little anymore?”
His head raised sharply. He stared at her as if shocked. Then, slowly, he smiled. And it relieved the tightness in her chest. “That isn’t very teacherly of you,” he said.
“No, but it’s honest. I hate bullies.” She tilted her head as she studied him, wondering if she dared say what she was feeling. “On the other hand, perhaps I shouldn’t be so vengeful since they were part of what made you who you are.” She threw caution to the wind and went on. “And I quite like who you are.”
There was a moment when he didn’t speak, but his fingers tightened around hers. He looked down again, as if drawn to stare at their hands. Then, in a tone she’d never heard from him—low, rough, almost husky—he said, “Be careful.”
“Of what?”
“Of making me think things I shouldn’t be thinking.”
“What things, and why shouldn’t you?”
“Things I’ve never had and never will.”
Driven by an urge she suspected was more than a bit reckless, she shifted her hand, moving her fingers around to the underside of his wrist. She pressed slightly, until she felt the strong—slightly rapid, or was she kidding herself?—beat of his pulse.
“You’re still alive,” she said softly. “You can’t say never.”
His head came up again. “Is that how you feel?”
“I didn’t, always,” she admitted. “Even though David kept telling me.”
He blinked. “He did?”
It was difficult, because she didn’t talk about this often, but it felt necessary now, with this man. “When we knew…he was terminal, he told me I needed a motto to remember, after. And he chose ‘Honor the past, but don’t live in it.’ Maybe that idea would help you, too.”
She thought he took in a deep breath, then knew she was right by the way he slowly let it out.
“I don’t know if I’m tough enough.”
She couldn’t help it, she let out a laugh. “You? The man who could be the prototype for building a life on wreckage?”
He stared at her. Then he shifted his gaze to the table again, but she could see the slight upward tug at the corners of his mouth. That mouth she wanted to kiss, an urge she’d once been certain she would never feel with any man other than David. And it was so strong it had her wondering what he would do if she leaned over the small table and did it. Kissed him, here, in public, and no doubt setting the Last Stand grapevine on fire with it.
She’d never been one to make the first move, but with Logan she was thinking she might have to be. Because he wouldn’t believe it, otherwise.
But then a group of a half-dozen chattering people came through the door, and their isolation—that word again—was shattered. And Logan tensed slightly but didn’t look around. Instead he glanced at his watch—she’d noticed before he was not glued to a phone screen—and looked a little startled.
“I have to get to a job.” And then, as if he felt he needed to explain, he added, “For your brother, actually.”
Did he think she needed an explanation? That she wouldn’t believe him without it? Or was he used to thinking up excuses to get away, and didn’t want her to think he was doing that this time?
She laughed inwardly at herself. It had been a long time since she’d expended so much time and energy on trying to figure out one person. With David she had instinctively known, which made it easier. But somehow she was finding the challenge of understanding Logan Fox interesting. Even…exhilarating? Now that was something she’d never expected. Nor had she expected to find the quiet, almost withdrawn man so…so…appealing?
Girl, you’ve gone way beyond appealing. Admit it, you’re hot for him, in a way you never, ever thought you’d feel again.
Nor had she ever expected to find herself thinking, with any kind of seriousness, that maybe them constantly running into each other wasn’t just accident or coincidence.
That maybe, just maybe it was fate.
*
Logan gave the hoof one more swipe with the rasp, then straightened and released the mare’s foreleg.
“She should be good now,” he said.
Jeremy Thorpe smiled happily. “Can she have the carrot now?”
“She’s earned it,” Logan agreed, and moved his gear out of the way so the boy could get to the docile little bay. He backed up to stand beside the boy’s father.
“Thanks,” Jackson said. “I think she’s going to be a good one for the smaller kids.”
“Yes.” Logan nodded toward the boy eagerly feeding the chunks of carrot to the horse. “I like how involved he is.”
“It’s helping him as much as the clients, so I’ll happily take it.”
Logan looked up to meet those Hollywood-famous eyes. Eyes that were also passed on to his sister. “You’re doing a good thing here,” he said quietly.
“I hope so. Sometimes I worry it’s just making me feel good,” Jackson confessed.
Logan shook his head. “No. You’re helping kids who were where your son was. You understand in a way somebody who hasn’t been through it never could.”
Jackson studied him for a moment, and Logan had the thought that the cameras had never really captured the power of that intense gaze.
“Tris understands,” Jackson said softly.
Logan tensed, but said only, “Yes she does.”
“I worry about her. A lot.”
Since he knew it was true, Logan said the only thing he could think of. “I think she knows that.”
Jackson’s mouth quirked slightly. “Well, you would know. She’s spent more time with you than anyone in the last six weeks.”
Logan blinked. “I…” His voice trailed off as he looked at the famous face. Was he about to get told off? Warned to stay away from Jackson Thorpe’s sister? He’d completely understand it, if so. After all, who’d want a sister he loved tangled up with a guy who didn’t even know where or what he came from?
Tangled up? Is that what it is? Or was that only his thoughts and…response to her?
He felt a hand gripping his shoulder, and he looked back at Jackson. “It’s the best thing that’s happened to Tris in a long time. You’re the best thing.”
Me?
He was sure he was gaping, but he couldn’t help it. He scrambled for something, anything, to say. Found nothing.
“I understand what she’s going through,” Jackson said. “Better than most. But it’s been a long time now.”
“She…loved him.” And would only ever love him.
“I know she did. And I know it’s different for everyone. But I’m tired of watching her sail along in a damaged ship, instead of at least trying to build a new one.”
The analogy caught Logan’s full attention. For a moment he just looked at Tris’s brother, then he said quietly, “Like you did?”
Jackson grimaced. “Maybe that’s why. I never thought I could, either. But Nic proved me wrong.” He smiled then. “Very, very wrong. For which I will be eternally grateful.”
Logan couldn’t help smiling back.
And then, in a low voice that nevertheless struck like a blow to the gut, Jackson added, “And I’d be grateful again, Logan, if you could help Tris do the same.”
He stared at the other man. Tris’s brother.
Who it seemed, had just given Logan his full stamp of approval.