Chapter 19 #2
“Yeah, I think so. This was weird.”
“Did he leave your date?”
“I guess so. But he had important,” my voice drops to whisper, “ business to attend to. I’m uncertain the business is fully legal.”
Logan glances around, as if checking to see if someone is looking at us. “Maybe I should take you home.”
“Please, I would appreciate it.”
I’m too anxious to consider the fact he was here with someone, and he probably hadn’t planned on leaving yet.
“Come on.” He reaches his hand out, just like Jaxon did not even ten minutes ago, but the feeling is vastly different. Instead of nerves, a sense of calm hits me as his hand envelopes mine, lifting me from my seat.
He doesn’t let go of it until we reach his car, where he opens the door for me and closes them after I get in.
As we peel out of the restaurant’s parking lot, I finally release the breath I was holding.
“What were you doing on a dinner date with Jaxon Larsen?” he asks.
“Shit, dinner. This is my third date in a row where I ended up hungry,” I respond, mostly to myself, with a self-deprecating laugh. “Wait,” I continue when I realize what he said, “you know him?”
“I know of him. That’s why I’m asking.”
“So, he really is a mobster?”
He chuckles lightly. “Maybe not a full mobster, but he runs a motorcycle gang. It’s common knowledge they deal in stolen bikes.” He sneaks a glance at me. “You know, one of those things everyone knows, but no one talks about.”
“Still, what are the chances of him coming after me to, you know, shush me?”
Once again, his deep chuckle fills the space of the car. “No, I think you’re safe. He’s kind of a player, though. If he went around killing every woman he’s been on a date with, this town would have no more female residents.”
“Fuck, we really hit the mark with morally gray grump,” I mutter to myself again .
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
“No, I have to know now. What’s a morally gray grump?” He shoots me a smirk, one that makes his eyes sparkle.
I sigh. “It’s a trope. Sandy had this crazy idea of me finding love using romance book tropes. That’s what I’ve been doing. And failing spectacularly at it.”
“Tropes are like themes for books, right?”
“Yeah, you have billionaire tropes, age gap tropes, single dad, morally gray tropes. A ton of them, actually.”
“Yeah? And what trope do I fit?” He glances at me with a cheerful smile, one that looks too good on him.
I narrow my eyes at him, considering. “None of the popular ones, really.”
He presses a hand to his chest. “Ouch. You don’t have to be so mean about it.”
Laughter bubbles out of me, and with each breath, the tension of this evening exits my body. “Wait, do you maybe have a stepsister?”
His eyes are pure shock as he stares at me for a second before turning his gaze back on the road. “Do I even want to know?”
“Well,” I wave him off, “I’m sure you can imagine.”
He shakes his head. “And what about you being hungry on your dates?”
“Long story.” Another sigh escapes me. “What are you…” I say when he takes a right turn where he’s supposed to go left.
“Sorry, I can’t in good conscience let you leave hungry this time.”
He winks, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. He really is too attractive for his own good. Or my own good.
“You must be hungry, too… We left before you even got your food.”
“I could eat.” He shrugs.
He parks in front of a 50s-style diner, opening my door again. As we enter the place, I realized it’s not 50s style . It’s actually from the 50s. The weathered leather booths, the checkered floors. I feel like I’ve jumped into a time machine.
This isn’t a date, by any stretch of the word. But it’s still nice, the way he left his friends to drive me home, and then brought me here to make sure I get fed.
“This place has the best grilled cheese in the state,” he says it like he’s talking about a Michelin star restaurant, and my lips turn up.
Who doesn’t love a good grilled cheese?
We don’t even open the menus before ordering the sandwiches. The server takes them back to her station, and I turn my gaze back to Logan.
“I know it doesn’t look like much, but you’ll have to trust me on this,” he says.
“Are you kidding me? This place is adorable. I’m trying to memorize the details so I can use it in one of my books.”
“I’m glad I could help. So, what do you do when you’re not writing? Or thinking about writing?”
His question makes me grin. “I read. One way or another, my interests revolve around books. You?”
“Not much of a reader.” He shrugs. “But I get what you’re saying, your work and hobbies being connected. I spend most of my free time doing stuff around the house. There’s always something to be done, something to tinker with. And I enjoy doing it.”
“Do you miss it?” He shoots me a confused look, so I explain, “Working with your hands? If you’re mostly overseeing your employees.”
He’s silent for a second before responding, “I do. I enjoy planning and finishing projects, but sometimes I miss the middle part—actually building something.”
“Oh, so I haven’t inconvenienced you with my project. I’ve helped you do more of what you love?” I joke.
He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m definitely enjoying it.” His eyes stick to mine for a second before the server places a plate in front of me.
We both thank her and dig into the food .
“This is soooo good,” I moan as the cheesy goodness stretches from my mouth to the sandwich in my hands.
Logan’s face pulls into an attractive smile, so I don’t dwell on the fact that I’m speaking with my mouth full.
“Told you.” He dips his sandwich into hot tomato soup.
“You weren’t lying.” The soup is hearty and seasoned just right, while the sandwich is grilled to perfection.
“So, tell me about those hungry dates you had.”
“Well, the first one was the billionaire age gap.”
“You went out with a billionaire?” His eyes bulge out.
“Not exactly. But Sandy convinced me that a multimillionaire is close enough.” I shrug and take another bite of my sandwich.
Logan nods and I continue the story of the horrible dates. He’s equal parts shocked and entertained by what I’m saying, and at one point he almost inhales the soda he’s drinking.
“That’s insane.” He chuckles, wiping his face. “It sounds like something from a book.”
“Honestly, the only silver lining I see is the fact I can use it for my future books.”
“Should you put them in dedications or something?”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. ‘To the worst dates of my life,’ it will say.”
He laughs again, and I join in, savoring the comfort and ease of our conversation.
The server brings us the bill, and I take out my card to pay for it. He’s quicker, moving my hand away and slipping his card.
“Come on, you’re the one who saved my life tonight. The least you could have done was let me pay for this,” I say.
“No way. Now, at least one of your dates made sure you ate.” He winks, and I feel my cheeks fill with heat.
I know this isn’t a date. But when he says it like that, it almost feels like it is.
We ride home in comfortable silence. My brain’s too full to fill it with small talk.
After the disastrous dates I’ve had, this little outing seems like a breath of fresh air.
I haven’t had a drop of alcohol. I was cranky and disappointed by my date with Jaxon.
Also terrified. And I had the time of my life with the guy who’s building my deck.
A too young, too unserious, flirty guy, who is also my employee.
Just my luck.
As he parks in front of my house, the butterflies in my stomach start up again. If he considers this a date, will he try to kiss me?
My hands grow clammy, so I wipe them on my jeans before reaching my hand out to Logan.
His gaze catches on it, his eyes widening slightly. His mouth hooks in a smirk before he wets his lips with his tongue. Finally, he slips his warm hand into mine.
“Well, thanks for dinner. See you next week.” I shake his hand like we arranged a merger of two companies and jump out of the car, rushing to get to my front door.
I don’t dare look back. Instead, I slam the door of my house closed and lean on it.
What the hell was that? A handshake? I don’t think we’ve shook hands since the first day we met.
But tonight messed with my head. Between the adrenaline from thinking I might get killed and all the painkillers I’ve taken today, I’m probably not in the right state of mind.
Yeah, that must be it.