Chapter 8 #2
I know how Beef managed that—he’s adorable—but how in the world did Logan get under my skin so quickly? Okay, so it’s not that hard to figure out. Logan is the human equivalent of Beef Wellington, and I clearly have a type.
Something is wrong with me.
“Ever thought of adopting a potbelly pig?” I ask like it’s the most normal question in the world. After the way he’s been texting lately, I’m so curious to see how Logan will respond. He and Princess have a lot of things in common, at least when it comes to their demand for home-cooked meals.
His thick eyebrows dip low as he runs his fingers through Beef’s thick fur. “A what?”
“Pig. But, like, a really big one.” I hold my arms in a circle in front of me to demonstrate, though I have no idea how big Princess actually is.
“Uh, no.”
“That’s too bad. I’d bet this lovely lady would soften you right up.” I hold up my phone to show him a picture of Princess and her overlarge diaper.
He grunts, sounding very much like a pig himself. “You know I can’t see that from here, right?”
Rolling my eyes, I stand up straight and stretch my back from leaning for so long. Then I bring the phone over to Logan, holding it close to his face. A little too close, but he can’t complain about not being able to see now.
And yet his gaze remains fixed on me, not my phone, and it’s so intense that I feel like I’m starting to boil internally. “When was the last time you sat down, Savannah?”
I frown. “Huh?”
With a nod toward the clean dishes in my drying rack, he narrows his eyes slightly. “You already made my meals, and you’ve been awake since at least five-thirty. Have you sat down at all in the last five hours?”
This is what I get for sending him a text first thing in the morning, unnecessarily reminding him about his pickup today.
But asking me if I’ve sat down? He’s more observant than he looks, though that shouldn’t surprise me.
When Moxie told me that Logan has been offering unsolicited advice in the form of poorly veiled insults to his teammates, I should have picked up on the way he pays attention to the people around him, for better or worse.
You hum when you cook.
Heat splashes across my face as his text runs through my mind, this time in his sexy Aussie accent, and I pull my phone back so I can put some distance between me and his gray-blue eyes.
Logan grabs my wrist, stopping my movement. “I want you to show me the pig, Savannah. But I also want you to sit.”
Laughing nervously, I look at the way he fills my small couch and then some, his feet hanging off the end. “Where?” I guess I could sit on the floor, but then I’d have to get back up again.
“Here.” He punctuates the word with a soft tug that pulls me onto his lap and knocks a gasp out of me.
Still holding my wrist (and apparently unaware of the sudden heat burning through me), he pulls my phone close again to get a better look at Princess the Pig.
“Genuine question,” he says as a frown scrunches his eyebrows together.
“What about me says I would ever adopt a pig?”
His eyes meet mine again, and all I can do is let out a shaky exhale because I’m sitting on his far-too-comfortable thighs and he’s touching my arm and his texts are on repeat in my head in his deep voice.
I rarely dated in South Carolina because the options in my social scene were the worst, and then I came to California for school and put all my focus into my dietetics degree and certifications.
Building a business from the ground up hasn’t exactly lent itself to dating, so I genuinely don’t remember the last time I was interested in a guy.
I don’t know what to do here.
I should not be interested in Logan Callahan.
“Is this where you got B.W.?” Logan asks, his frown deepening as he returns his attention to my phone. He could just take it out of my hand. He doesn’t have to hold my wrist like this, but he isn’t letting go.
“B.W.?” I repeat, alarmed by the breathiness of my tone. It should take more than a simple bit of physical contact to override my senses and turn me into a pile of goo. But it’s been a really long time since anyone touched me like this.
“Beef Wellington.” Without releasing my wrist, he shifts his hold so he can scroll through the page with his thumb. “They have locations all over the country?”
I need to get a grip. Like Logan has with my wrist. Gah.
“The world, actually.” At least now I sound less like I’m about to pass out, but I take a couple deep breaths to reset my lungs and return some strength to my voice.
“That’s why it’s so heartbreaking that they haven’t found a home for Princess yet. ”
“So you’re a softy under all that spunk,” Logan murmurs.
Was I supposed to hear that? I have no idea, but my face flames again.
That was a compliment, right? Unless… Okay, I’m starting to understand why Logan’s teammates have such a hard time with the advice he gives them.
It’s the whole “nice things in a condescending tone” thing that threw me off a few weeks ago.
“Um.” The word comes out as a squeak, so I clear my throat. I need to take control of this conversation before my thoughts run wild. “Were the snacks I made for you last week good?”
His little snort of laughter does nothing to cool me down when he also decides to run his fingers from my wrist up my arm and back down again, still reading something on the screen. “Everything you make is good, Savannah. Everything about you is good.”
At that, my fingers lose hold of my phone, and it thumps onto Beef’s back. My cat lifts his head to give me a steely stare before curling back up in a ball like he can’t be bothered now that he’s in his favorite place.
Coughing, Logan slowly pulls his fingers away from my arm, and based on the confusion in his expression, it’s almost like he didn’t realize he was still touching me.
And I can’t decide if I’d prefer his actions to be deliberate or instinctive.
Do I want him to want me? He picks up my phone, holding it only an inch from my hand, and when I take it, our fingers brush and send an electric shock through me.
Reminding myself that he’s leaving in July and I need to put my full focus into True Fuel Kitchen, I scoot forward to get off his lap and gather his weekly meals for him.
Logan grips my elbow, holding me in place.
I look at him.
He looks at me.
And for a second, I think the whole room starts spinning when his eyes slip down to my mouth and darken. He’s not going to… Is he going to kiss me?
But then Logan lets go of my arm, dropping his gaze and moving his hands to the cat on his chest. “I should, er, be on my way.”
“Oh.” This is what I want, what I need, but suddenly I can’t move.
Logan scoops Beef up and sets him on the floor, much to the cat’s irritation, and then his hands are on me as he sits up.
One arm goes around my back while the other slips under my legs, bringing his face so close that my breath hitches in my throat.
In one fluid motion, he lifts me like I weigh nothing and sets me on my feet.
Logan’s usually so graceful, but as he stands and Beef slips between his feet, he stumbles into me and has to grab my shoulders to keep from knocking me over.
And our bodies are suddenly flush together.
Still frozen, I can’t think about anything except the warmth of his body pressed to my back as he holds me steady for a lot longer than he needs to.
“Sorry,” he mutters breathlessly, the word brushing against my neck and sending a chill through me.
With flustered movements, he hurries to the kitchen and loads his arms with meals like he’s desperate to get as far from me as he can.
Trays and boxes balance precariously in front of him, and he pauses halfway to the door, his mouth open and an almost wild look in his eyes.
“See you next week.” He finagles the food in his arms to get the door open and slips out without a backward glance, practically slamming the door behind him.
I exhale for what feels like the first time since he grabbed my elbow, pressing a hand over my racing heart. “What just happened?” I ask Beef.
My cat blinks at me, licking his lips, then trots over to the door and sits down.
Like he’s waiting for Logan to come back because he left far too soon.
“I’m with you, Wellie,” I mutter and run my fingers through my hair. “But I don’t think we’re going to like how this turns out.”
Unfortunately, I have a feeling Beef and I are already in too deep.
How did that happen?