Chapter Twenty-One
“I THINK WE’RE GOING TO head out,” Lola said, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. Alejandro hung back, obviously eager for some alone time with Lola.
“Thanks for coming.” I squeezed her tightly, feeling a strange need to keep ahold of her. Maybe it was just me being weird. But there was something about Lola.
“Um ...,” she whispered in my ear. “I think your last guest has arrived.”
What? Lola and Alejandro were the last guests. Everyone else had skedaddled after a rousing night of roasting all sorts of food over the bonfire, which was now reduced to low-burning embers, as we’d talked, laughed, and sung out loud to all the yacht rock that was still playing on my old boom box. As far as I was concerned, Michael McDonald’s voice would never go out of style.
Lola turned me around, and to my surprise, the last person I expected to see that night was striding determinedly toward me. He looked freakishly hot in a long-sleeve Henley, unbuttoned just enough to give me a tantalizing glimpse of his sculpted chest, and linen shorts that showcased his muscular legs.
“Good luck.” Lola kissed my cheek but frowned and narrowed her eyes at Logan. I might have mentioned to her that he’d been avoiding me.
Alejandro reached out a hand to her, and she pranced toward him .
“Good night. Thanks for coming.” I waved at them, feeling a sudden rush of nervousness. When I texted Logan about the party, I had been sure he would be a no-show. I didn’t even know why I’d invited him. Clearly, he didn’t want to be around me. At least, that’s what I’d thought.
“Hi,” Logan’s masculine crooner’s voice pierced the night air—and my heart.
“Hi,” I said shyly, refusing to look directly at him.
“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled. “I hope the party went well.”
I looked down at my feet, admiring my pedicure. Lola and I had gone to the nail salon earlier in the day. My toes were now the perfect shade of coral.
“Brooke.” Logan stepped closer, his tone becoming more intimate. “Can we talk?”
“What about?” If he wanted to ignore me for the remainder of the summer, I wanted to know up front and save us both the time.
“Brooke.” He stepped so close, I couldn’t help but look up at him. His handsome face, illuminated by the glow of the firelight, was a mix of trepidation and admiration. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out.
“For kissing me?” I waited for the sting of confirmation.
“No.” He ran a warm finger down my cheek, sending a shock wave through me. “I’m not sorry about that. Only for my behavior afterward. Can we sit and talk? This might take a while.”
“Okay. Do you want to sit in front of the fire?”
“I’d like that,” he replied.
I settled myself on the plaid blanket, complete with a picnic basket, and he joined me, sitting closer than I had anticipated and shocking me when he took my hand and cradled it between his own.
I tried not to read too much into it because I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to happen. But one thing I knew: I loved the feel of my hand in his.
For a moment, we said nothing as Logan’s thumb brushed across my skin. We watched the low-burning flames crackle and pop, the lake lapping gently against the shore, while Michael McDonald’s soothing voice serenaded us .
“Brooke, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t know what to do or say. All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “You’re ruining my dating life,” I teased, but it was true. I couldn’t even say yes to a second date with Roman, even though he was a really nice guy.
“Every time I’m on a date, all I can think of is being with you ... but ... it’s obvious being with me causes you angst, and I don’t want to play backup quarterback to your wife. She was obviously perfect, and I’m definitely not. But dang it, Logan, I want to kiss you again, and I can’t imagine going on all my summer adventures with anyone but you.”
I figured I might as well lay it all on the line. The man had, after all, rescued me while I was naked. It doesn’t get more vulnerable than that.
A low chuckle erupted in his chest. “That about sums up my feelings too. However, Erica is part of the equation here—a big part. My feelings for you have caused a lot of guilt.”
“Why?”
“Because you are in many ways very different from Erica, and there’s our age difference to consider. I don’t want to look like a walking midlife crisis.”
“Yeah, you are kind of old, Grandpa,” I laughed. But on a more serious note, I added, “Is it bad that I’m not like Erica?”
“No. Not all. It’s just, honestly, I don’t think she would approve.”
“I see.” I had to admit, it pricked to think that Erica wouldn’t like me. Not sure why, as I would never meet her, but she was a part of Logan. And I’d kind of always assumed I would have been friends with her, as she sounded so incredible. I guessed I was wrong. “You don’t want to let her down,” I surmised.
He shook his head.
“Out of curiosity’s sake, what wouldn’t she like about me?”
“Brooke, it’s not important.” He obviously didn’t want to say. It must have been bad.
“It is important if ... well ... if we want to kiss again. Do you want to kiss again?”
With the crook of his finger, he tilted my chin, making sure our gazes locked. “More than you know.” He leaned in, his lips barely grazing mine as if he were afraid to do more. As if he were afraid of me.
I closed my eyes, trying to compose myself. His touch, even a minor one, was incredibly potent. “You are a ninja kisser.” I opened my eyes to find him smiling.
“You think so?” He sounded proud of himself.
“You definitely have some skills. But you still haven’t answered my question. Why wouldn’t your wife like me?”
Logan dropped his hand, and I rested my head on his shoulder, waiting for his reply.
“I don’t know that she wouldn’t like you on a personal level. She just wouldn’t like me dating someone like you. Someone who jumps into lakes naked in the middle of the night and who quits her job to spend her summer pushing the limits.”
“I mean, I don’t know. That person sounds like a fun girl.” I was doing my best not to be offended.
“That woman is a fun girl. Probably the most fun girl I’ve ever known.”
“So, you’re saying you like her?”
“A lot,” he admitted.
I liked a lot . A lot. But ... “Would Erica think I was a loser? Do you think that?” Just the thought of it made me feel sucker punched.
“No,” he was quick to say. “You’re not a loser. Not at all. You’re just different. But I need different right now, and that makes me feel guilty.”
“Yeah, that’s a tough one.” For him and me. “I don’t want you to spend time with me if it makes you feel guilty. Then I’ll feel guilty. But just so you know, I do like spending time with you.”
So much. Even at that moment, when I didn’t know how it would turn out, I treasured being close to him. It just felt right. I really didn’t want to give that up.
He pulled up my hand and kissed it. “I like spending time with you too.”
I loved the feel of his lips on my skin. “So, what do we do?”
“I was hoping you would have the answer,” he breathed out.
“Oh, I see. You’re going to pin this on me,” I teased .
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Whatever happens between us will be a mutual decision.”
I nestled closer to him. “Logan, when you say things like that, it only makes me like you more.”
We sat in silence, time stretching out between us like an unending road. But the thought that kept coming back to me was that I couldn’t imagine my summer without him. I couldn’t believe that it was an accident that our paths had crossed. It wouldn’t have surprised me if my mom had orchestrated it. Even that first awkward, cringey meeting in the ER. As cringey as it had been, maybe I’d had the right idea. Maybe we both needed a fling.
Swallowing my nerves, I steeled myself to speak. This was my summer of no regrets, of pushing boundaries. And this wasn’t just word vomiting like our first meeting. This was coming straight from my heart.
“Soooo,” I began, drawing out the word. “You might have heard that I’m on the lookout for a summer fling. I know you’re not typically a fling kind of guy, and I’m not a fling kind of girl, but what if we embraced this one summer together? No strings attached. It will be all fun and zero guilt because we know that come the end of August, it will be over.”
That way I knew I would for sure never have to be the second act to Erica. I would just be the woman who maybe mended a tiny piece of his broken heart. And I had a feeling that if Logan and I dated for the summer, it would be the magical fling Mom promised.
The only downside was that I knew I would have to walk away from our friendship at the end. That thought hurt, but at least I would have a summer full of memories to treasure.
I lifted my head from his shoulder, needing to see the truth in his eyes when he answered.
His gaze met mine, intensified by the flames reflecting in his eyes.
I held my breath, fearing and hoping.
Logan ran the back of his hand down my cheek, the corners of his mouth lifting into an almost smile. “You undo me, Brooke.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“Good. ”
“So, does that mean you’re going to be my fling?” I seriously couldn’t believe I was asking again. Mom would be so proud. “I won’t tell anyone how old I am.” I grinned.
He smiled a genuine smile before leaning his forehead against mine. His warm, deliberate breaths brushed across my skin. It was as if with each breath he was daring himself to do this.
“I can’t imagine spending this summer with anyone else.”
“Me either. Does this mean you’re going to be my fling, Dr. Summers?” He still hadn’t answered, and now, I was feeling more than a little foolish. But I had to know.
He laughed before pressing his lips to mine, owning them without hesitation. I took that as a yes and parted my lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, which he did with such tenderness, it was electrifying. I had to grip his shirt to steady myself from the shivers he was adept at producing in me. My heart pounded with each prod of his tongue as my mind spun with all the possibilities this summer with Logan held.
Logan’s hands wove into my hair, undoing my messy bun. My tresses spilled around us, creating a barrier between us and the world. And for a moment, it felt as if we were the only ones who existed. When he finished exploring my mouth, he tilted my head back and brushed his lips across my neck, trailing kisses down to my shoulder, where he lingered, his head nuzzling into my neck as if he didn’t want to move.
I rested my chin on his head and wrapped my arms around him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
“You don’t feel guilty, do you?” I asked, my voice barely audible, afraid he might say yes.
“No,” he murmured, his breath warm on my shoulder. “I just forgot what holding and being held by a beautiful woman feels like.”
“I’d be happy to remind you all summer long.”
“I look forward to it,” he whispered against my skin.
“So do I.” So did I.