Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
LOGAN
She’s silent for a few moments before clearing her throat.
“I’m sorry. You must be confused,” she says. “This was kind of a shock to me.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was a silly little thing.”
“No!” Her voice rises, so she looks around before dropping it back down. “It wasn’t a silly little thing. It’s just…” She sighs. “I’m not used to these things. I’ve only been divorced a few months, but I haven’t been cared for in a long time.”
She stares at me with glossy eyes, and a knot forms in my stomach. “I hope you know you deserved much more.” It kills me to know she was unhappy. It kills me to know she was overlooked and ignored.
“Yeah, maybe.” She gives me a self-deprecating smile. “You get used to it after a while. And I think that’s the worst part.” Her gaze drops to the glass of water in front of her, like keeping eye contact would be too hard.
“What do you mean?”
“You get used to disappointments to the point they turn small. And then you’re thinking, why am I angry about these tiny things?
Why would I leave because of these stupid tiny things?
” Her hand wraps around the glass, gently rocking it.
“It’s like… I can’t get a divorce because he hasn’t kissed me when he came home, or because he hasn’t told me he loved me in a week.
That would be stupid. But then one day turns into a month and a month turns into a year.
And you’re starving and you’re desperate, but it’s only a kiss, you know?
It’s just an ‘I love you’. Not a reason to end a marriage.
” Her eyes lift to mine, now completely blurred.
“It’s easier to die in a crash than to wither from a poison that’s slowly killing you.
” Her words send a chill down my spine. “I’m probably not making any sense. ”
I know exactly what she’s talking about.
“You are. My parents have a relationship like that.” Her eyes widen before she drops her gaze.
“I never really verbalized it as well as you did, but they are unhappy. And I noticed it. Every day, I saw my mom trying to get scraps of attention. And I saw her disappointment when she didn’t even get that.
My father isn’t a bad man. He wasn’t even a bad father.
But he’s not a good husband. I would sometimes hope that they argue about something, anything, so that she’d get anything from him.
Even hate.” I plant my hand on hers to make her look up.
“So what you did, leaving? That was the best fucking thing you could have done. Your kids deserve more than to see you poisoned to death.”
She shoots me a sad smile. “Sorry to have ruined your surprise.”
“You’ve ruined nothing. I appreciate you sharing that with me.”
“This was supposed to be a celebration.”
“It is. We’re celebrating the fact that you are an exceptional writer who got an award. And you’re also a powerhouse who realized she deserves to be happy. We actually doubled the cause for celebration.”
Her lips turn up, finally, before she opens the menu.
I really do appreciate her sharing that with me.
Despite that, it fills me with dread. There’s a rock in my stomach, and a fire in my chest, anger and sadness battling inside of me.
It makes me mad to know her ex-husband treated her that way.
It also makes me want to show her how much she’s worth for the rest of her life.
I know she’s been hurt. I know she’s scared to let anyone in because the last time she did, she disappeared.
Disappeared in the background noise, which sometimes can be a punishment worse than death.
And I know I need to take it slow, give her time, even though I’d want nothing more than to rush into things with her.
There’s only so much idling around the deck I can do before she realizes what I’m doing. Matter of fact, I should probably tell her I only have a full day of work left as soon as possible.
“Can we forget I said all this and enjoy our night? You’re right, it’s time for a celebration,” she says, looking up from her menu.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
Obviously, my deck news can wait. The end of it means the end of me working at her house, which means we should probably decide on the direction of our relationship.
I know what I want, but her response is still a mystery to me.
A mystery I’m too scared to solve. So, she’s right.
We should enjoy this night. And hope it’s not the last.
Our drinks arrive, and I clink my glass to hers. “To many more nights like this.”
Her face stretches into a huge smile, and I tell myself it’s because she wants to spend more time with me.
We order the restaurant’s signature steak and have a blast. She’s bright and funny and light and everything I knew she was but never had a chance to see outside of the sanctuary of her home.
“So, how did this start?” I look around the place, wanting to know the story.
“My mom. She used to bring us here to celebrate. Every sparkling report card. When Sandy won the science fair. When my script was chosen for the school play. We didn’t have a ton of money, so dinner here was an extra special treat.
We would get dressed up and pretend we were super fancy.
So when I published my first book, Sandy surprised me and took me here.
” My face relaxes, seeing how excited she is about the story. “I can’t believe you knew that.”
“I didn’t know the whole backstory. But I figured there was something to it. Something important for you.” Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me, more relaxed than I ever seen her.
The food arrives and we dig into it.
With her mouth half-full, she mentions, “Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. This isn’t a good restaurant. It was just tradition for us.”
A deep laugh bubbles out of me. She’s right. The steak is mediocre at best, but it’s probably the best dinner I ever had.
We talk about everything and nothing. By the time I’m pulling into her driveway, we have tears in our eyes from laughing so hard.
“I don’t feel good about you driving back to Seattle now. It’s late,” she says as I open her door. “Maybe you should stay.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I only drank that one champagne at the beginning of the evening.” I’d love to stay, but I don’t want to intrude. Or assume.
“What if I want you to stay?” Her eyes connect to mine beneath her long, thick lashes, and my heart flutters in my chest.
“I could … be persuaded of that.”
She giggles at my response. “Come on. I’ll pour you a drink.”
She makes us each a margarita, and since I’m not driving back, I can finally drink.
“Shit, this is strong.” I wince, making her chuckle.
“Yeah, sorry. Sandy and I love the taste of tequila.”
I shake my head, loving how her cheeks are rosy and her eyes sparkle.
She’s radiant. Her dress fits her like it was made for her, showing every curve on her delicious body.
This is only her third drink of the night, so I know she’s not drunk, but she’s relaxed enough to be playful, giving me small flirty touches that have me on edge.
“I haven’t drunk tequila since I was in high school. ”
“Well, that wasn’t too long ago.” She bites her lower lip to stop herself from laughing. The sight shoots straight to my dick.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m younger. Not that much younger, though.”
“You know what? You’re right. I bet I could outrun you.”
“Is that a challenge?” I lift a brow and her breath hitches.
“Maybe.” Her tongue darts out to lick her lip and my gaze gets stuck on it.
“And what do I get if I catch you?”
“Whatever you want,” she replies in a husky voice.
“What a dangerous thing to say,” I grit out.
“What if I’m in the mood for some danger tonight?”
I let out a growl. An actual growl that makes her squeal and jump up from the couch.
To her advantage, she wasn’t holding her margarita glass, and she already took her shoes off, so she starts for the open patio door in a split second.
She’s already out of the house while I place my glass on the coffee table and adjust my aching dick.
I start after her on a swift walk, letting her get some headway. Her backyard’s huge, but the pool is the only thing that’s lit up. It casts a soft glow on the area around it and I see her shadow as she runs off further, toward the woods.
This is going to be fun.