Chapter 12 Logan
LOGAN
I wasn’t mad that I got the time wrong.
Usually, I would be. Normally, I’d be irritated that I’d miscalculated, that I’d wasted time sitting somewhere I didn’t need to be.
But right then? Sitting across from Elizabeth and her brother, I was enjoying myself.
For the first time in a long while, I wasn’t counting down the minutes until I could leave.
That was new.
Jake was easy to talk to, sharp but laid-back, the kind of guy who could make a conversation feel like it had already been happening long before you walked in. And this Elizabeth was different from the one I was used to.
I’d only ever known PR Elizabeth, the woman who was all polished and efficient, who carried the weight of everything on her shoulders and refused to let anyone help. The one who looked at me like a mess that she was contractually obligated to clean up.
But here? With Jake? She was something else entirely.
Jake leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs. “Elizabeth is like a New Orleans summer. She’s warm when she wants to be, but don’t expect a break from the heat.”
Elizabeth scoffed, but her eyes were soft. “And you’re like a New Orleans pothole. Surprisingly deep, constantly underestimated, but always there when you least expect it.”
Jake barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Elizabeth smirked. “I’ll deny it if you ever bring it up again.”
Something tightened in my chest as I watched them.
This was what family looked like. Not just the teasing but the comfort beneath it. The way you could joke with someone because there was no question that, at the end of the day, you’d show up for each other.
Elizabeth was all sharp edges with me, but here? Here, she was something softer, something steadier.
I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to stay and watch.
“So, what do you do, man?” I asked, forcing myself to refocus on Jake.
“I’m a civil engineer for New Orleans. Mostly infrastructure projects. It’s not as glamorous as a rock star’s life, but hey, somebody’s gotta keep the roads from swallowing your tour bus whole.”
I laughed. “That’s fair.”
Jake picked up his coffee, but his grip was careful. Too careful.
I wouldn’t have thought twice about it except that Elizabeth noticed too. She was watching him, like she wanted to step in but knew better.
Jake took a sip and set the cup down with a little too much control. Then he flexed his fingers, like they didn’t quite work the way he wanted them to.
I glanced at Elizabeth again, but she was focused on stirring her coffee, her expression unreadable.
Then, Jake grinned and launched into a story about the time Elizabeth tried to cook an entire Thanksgiving meal by herself in college and nearly set their oven on fire.
“Okay, first of all,” Elizabeth cut in, narrowing her eyes, “I was perfectly capable.”
Jake snorted. “Liz, the smoke alarm went off three times.”
“There were technical difficulties.”
“Yeah, like you not knowing how to cook a turkey.”
I laughed, watching Elizabeth huff in mock frustration before shaking her head and smiling. The three of us fell into an easy rhythm. Jake telling stories, Elizabeth trying (and failing) to downplay them, and me enjoying the rare sight of her with her guard down.
For once, she wasn’t watching me like I was her biggest problem. She was watching me differently. Not with exasperation. Not with barely concealed frustration. But with something softer, something almost… curious. Like she was seeing me in a new light, and maybe not hating what she saw.
And I liked it.
Not just because she was gorgeous—though, yeah, obviously that wasn’t lost on me.
Those sharp, assessing eyes, that effortless confidence that made her impossible to ignore.
But it wasn’t just that. It was the way she could hold a room without even trying, the way she was so sharp, so quick, so powerful.
And then there were moments like this, when she wasn’t working, wasn’t strategizing, wasn’t two steps ahead of everyone else. When she laughed and let herself be part of the moment instead of controlling it.
I liked that part of her, too. Maybe even more than the rest.
Jake checked his watch and sighed. “Well, gotta get back to work before someone notices I’ve disappeared.” He stood, clapping me on the shoulder with a solid pat, his grip firm despite the effort I now realized it took.
Then he gave me a long look, like he was seeing something he hadn’t expected to find.
“You know, Liz,” he said, nodding toward her, “I like this guy.” He tilted his head at me. “He’s not what I expected.”
Elizabeth blinked, like she wasn’t sure how to respond. Jake chuckled as he grabbed his coffee and headed for the door, walking with a slight limp. I turned to Elizabeth, expecting her to dismiss Jake’s comment about me.
But she didn’t. Instead, she just looked at me, something unreadable in her expression.
I held her gaze for a beat, then smirked. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”
Her faint smile hinted that she might be starting to think the same. But before either of us could acknowledge it, she straightened, all business again.
Ah, there it was. The Great Wall of Elizabeth, back up in record time.
And I hated it.
Because I’d seen the other side of her. The side that was softer, real, right there with me, and I wanted that version of her back.
And instead of that woman, I got sharp edges and clipped efficiency, shutting the door on whatever had just happened between us.
And she’d seen me too. Not as some reckless, image-ruining disaster she had to fix, but as… I don’t know. A person. Something beyond a job.
“We need to go over the details for tomorrow night,” she said, swiping her screen to life.
I smirked. Fine. If she wanted to act like nothing happened, like we hadn’t had a moment, I could play along. “You mean my big romantic evening at Emeril’s? Can’t wait.”
She barely glanced up. “You’ll arrive at 7:30 sharp. The car will pull up to the main entrance, where you’ll step out first and help Sophie out.”
I gave her a slow nod, watching the way she focused, utterly absorbed in her work. That sharp mind, that unwavering control. It was intimidating.
And a little thrilling.
I gave her a slow nod. “Right, right. Big moment. Theatrics. What’s my motivation?”
Elizabeth tapped at her screen without looking up. “Pretend you’re a functioning adult who understands basic human interactions.”
I grinned. There was that famous wit of hers. “That’ll be tough.”
“You’re telling me.”
I leaned back in my chair, studying her.
The way her fingers moved quickly over the tablet, the way she barely gave me a passing glance.
Like I was a job, a task to be managed, and yet, I swore I caught something else—the tiniest flicker of amusement before she smoothed her expression back into neutral.
I asked, “So, what’s next? Candlelit dinner?”
“Holding hands across the table. Maybe even”—she scrolled through her notes, then grimaced like she couldn’t believe she had to say it—“feeding each other food.”
I stared at her. “Oh, that is not happening.”
She gave me a tight, expectant smile.
I groaned. “Come on, Elizabeth, even you have to admit that’s ridiculous.”
“Oh, I absolutely do.” Her lips twitched. Man, she almost smiled. Almost. “But the press will eat it up, so unfortunately, so will you.”
I folded my arms. “I draw the line at being hand-fed like a zoo animal.”
“Well, if you want to get creative, you can suggest something else. But make it look natural, not like you’re reading cue cards off a hostage video.”
I coughed. “Fine. I’ll be the picture of romance.” Then I tilted my head. “Wait, you’re coaching me through this whole thing, right?”
She blinked. “Obviously.”
“So you’ll be in my ear the entire night.”
She paused. “…Yes.”
A slow grin spread across my face. “You sure you want that? Spending your entire evening whispering sweet nothings to me?”
Elizabeth didn’t dignify that with a response. She just rolled her eyes and grabbed a scone off the plate between us.
I picked up a bit of my scone and raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm. Maybe I can do the whole feeding and being fed thing. I just need a little practice.”
She looked at me thoughtfully, and something in her eyes dared me to keep going.
“Let’s see… first, I… lean over? Like this? I tilted forward, closer than necessary, to see what she’d do. “Then I focus on her lips.”
Elizabeth didn’t move away. If anything, she leaned in, her breath catching. One hand rested on the table, the other brushing the edge of her water glass, like she needed something to hold onto. Her voice was low. “Focus in on her lips, huh?”
Elizabeth’s lips were lovely. They were the perfect shade of pink, with a fuller bottom lip that made it unfairly easy to imagine how soft they must be. “And pop this right in?”
As if moving in slow motion, Elizabeth nodded. “J-just like that.”
I knew I shouldn’t. But I seemed locked into it. So was Elizabeth. She leaned slightly closer across the table, her mouth parting the slightest bit.
No turning back now.
I popped the piece of scone into her mouth. “Like… that?”
Her eyes went wide as she chewed, swallowing slowly. “Y-yes. Like that.”
My heart was doing something ridiculous, fluttering like a fool idiot, and the warmth in my chest felt altogether inappropriate for what should have been a casual demonstration.
But then—was she blushing?
Oh yeah. So much.
And that did something to me. We were still staring at each other, neither moving, neither speaking. Then someone cleared their throat.
We both jolted back like we’d been caught committing a crime.
“Yeah, well, I guess I can handle that,” I said, forcing a casual shrug.
Elizabeth fumbled for her composure. “Yes. Yeah. I mean, you can. Definitely.” Was she flustered? Oh, she was flustered.
I rubbed my chest, trying to ignore the way her pretty pink blush made me feel oddly, stupidly proud.
Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the moment was gone. Her jaw tightened, and she gave the slightest shake of her head, regaining control. “I am confident that, by the end of the night, you will have successfully convinced the world that you are wildly in love with Sophie Hartwell.”
I held her gaze, letting the moment stretch.
Then I smirked. “Guess we’ll find out.”
She exhaled, stuffing her tablet in her bag. “Just keep the headphones on.”
I opened my mouth for another witty remark, but something about the way she said it stopped me. Because here’s the thing—I’d planned on ditching the earpiece halfway through for a bit of peace.
But now? Now, I wasn’t so sure. Because I liked having Elizabeth in my ear.