Chapter 6 #3
She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Dad would never let her get a motorcycle, and she always wanted one. When he passed away almost two years ago, she bought a Harley-Davidson after what she considered an appropriate grieving time. She rides it to the cemetery to visit him when the weather is nice.”
The irony wasn’t lost on Logan. “Your mother sounds like an...interesting woman.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“I look forward to meeting her.”
Darcy stared. “You want to meet my mother?”
He took a breadstick from the bowl when the waiter placed the basket on the table. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, taking a bite and chewing as he eyed her curiously.
For a moment, the shadows snuck in and cast a damper on her spirits. “Conrad hated my mother. None of my other boyfriends liked her much either. She can be pretty blunt.”
Logan passed her the salad bowl. “I’m guessing Conrad tried to isolate you from your family and friends,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing. “I’d say your mother has good taste.”
Darcy took some of the salad, but her appetite was suddenly diminishing. She dabbed her breadstick restlessly into the dressing at the bottom of her bowl, wishing she’d never mentioned the bane of her life.
When Logan suddenly turned her chin towards him and started kissing her, all thoughts of Conrad fled.
Her brain registered his spicy aftershave, the strength of his touch firmly holding her chin, and his arm drawing her close to his hard body.
When he finally let her go, she stared at him hungrily, wanting so much more.
“Eat your lunch,” he ordered, winking at her. “And remember, good girls get good things when they behave.”
He kept one hand on her thigh and ate with his free hand, keeping their connection and supporting her in a way she didn’t understand, but her appetite came back with a vengeance.
It was as if Logan and Conrad couldn’t exist in her thoughts at the same time, and she didn’t question it—she leaned into Logan and thoroughly enjoyed the haven he provided.
Finishing his first bowl of soup, Logan turned to her again, his hand rubbing her thigh. “There is another reason I wanted to see you today, sweetheart. I’m scheduled to be in a conference in Ottumwa, Iowa, for the next three days. I’m leaving this afternoon and will be driving home on Sunday.”
Darcy's spirits drooped, but then she mentally kicked herself in the rear. “Okay.”
“Do you have any cases lined up where you have to leave your car while I’m gone? Because if you do, I can cancel it. I don’t want you doing it alone,” he added firmly.
“No. I have a new case, but it doesn’t require me leaving my car,” she replied, tongue in cheek. “But even if I did, your work is important. I don’t expect you to cancel a conference just for me.”
He smiled. “Of course, you don’t. But that’s who you are, sweetheart—always thinking of the other person. What you need is important to me. I can do these conferences in my sleep, and I have a friend who can fill in for me. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. Promise me?”
Darcy felt like the worst kind of fraud.
“I promise,” she said dutifully. She had another pending divorce case, but the promise was easy to make now that her good camera was repaired.
She could take all her photos from her car again.
She could feel a blush creeping up her throat with her omission, and of course, Logan saw it. He seemed to see everything.
His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. “Darcy? Are you lying to me?”
She bravely met his gaze without flinching. “Nope. I’m not lying. I will not be getting out of my car for a case. Since you’re being nice enough to come with me, I will return that favor. You don’t have to worry about me.”
But Logan wasn’t so easily appeased. His gaze seared into her, looking for every secret her brain might hold. Darned therapist. He knew when people were lying; it was a staple in his repertoire. At last, he spoke. “Maybe I should take you to your car for a reminder of what will happen if you do.”
The thought of him swatting her butt in her car in broad daylight was horrifying. “God no,” she whispered, looking around to see if anyone had heard. “I don’t break promises, Logan. Trust me.”
He studied her for a beat longer, silent and unreadable. She could feel him flipping through his inner Rolodex of giveaway clues, deciding if her words were sincere. And when he finally nodded, saying, “I believe you, sweetheart,” it was both a reprieve and a sentence.
She let out a sigh of relief. Thank God. She wasn’t lying—omission didn’t count in her book—but she knew she was on dangerous ground keeping secrets from him. Why hadn’t she just told him about her camera? It would have been a relief for him to know that.
But she knew the answer, and it cut too close.
The wounded, wary part of her—the one she tried so hard to bury—wouldn’t let her give him everything yet.
Because she’d already fallen for him, faster and harder than she’d ever expected, and she needed to know he wanted more than a temporary thrill or a kinky play partner.