Chapter 20
Savannah
The cheery jingle of my phone alarm breaks the moment, and I consider throwing my phone into the ocean and never looking back. But the alarm is a warning that I’m running out of time to get to Liam Connolly’s, and I stare at the clock as the realization fully sinks in for the first time.
I’m going to miss my deadline, and I can’t expect someone as busy as Liam to be gracious enough to give me an extra day. I don’t regret coming to help Logan, but…
Taking a deep breath, Logan runs his hand through his russet hair again and exhales slowly, and it’s like he’s replacing his usual armor and hiding all his vulnerable parts again.
“Don’t listen to anything I say, Sav. Not right now.
I’m… I’m stuck in my head when I should be angry at myself for giving you a reason to come out here instead of doing your job.
” He squeezes my hand as he looks at the phone I’m holding. “You still have time, yeah?”
I fight a grimace, tempted to lie to him. The last thing I want to do is make his day worse. “Um.”
“Sav,” he growls, his tone full of warning. “Tell me you have time.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad I came to find you.”
Swearing again, he jumps to his feet and brings me up with him. “Where’d you park?” Before I can answer, he shakes his head and leads me to his sleek black car. “We’ll come back for it later.”
“I can drive my car, Logan,” I complain. “Going together isn’t going to make us any faster.”
“Moot.” Unlocking his car, he pulls the passenger door open and glares at me until I slip inside.
“I’m not going to cost you a major client, so I’m getting you to the kitchen as fast as possible.
” He slides into the driver’s seat and hits the ignition.
When he practically peels out of the parking lot, I glare at him, and a bit of a smirk lifts the corners of his lips.
As glad as I am to see him in a lighter mood, I need to make sure he isn’t reckless. “Logan Callahan, getting pulled over or causing a crash isn’t going to get me back faster.”
Thankfully, he eases off the gas, but his smirk only grows. “Sorry, love.”
“You don’t look very sorry.”
“I’m not.”
I roll my eyes, though I’m grateful for the distraction from True Fuel’s likely downfall. “Guess you’re over the existential crisis?”
“Not really, but this is a better use of my time.”
Considering he’s dealing with some pretty heavy childhood trauma, I’m not sure my high-end client having to wait to get his meals can compare. “I mean, we can talk about your birth parents while you drive, if you want to.”
Despite him keeping his eyes on the road, I can almost feel his attention focused on me. “Love, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not all that good with emotional things. I doubt this is a conversation you want to have.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t keen on the chat, mate.”
He glances at me, and there’s a fire burning in his eyes now. It jumps over to me and settles in my belly as he responds in a deeper tone than normal. “Watch that language, love. You’ll give me dangerous ideas.”
I’m not so sure I wouldn’t like some of his dangerous ideas if they involve him getting real close to me and crossing the line I’ve been dying to cross for weeks.
But I need to get back to his kitchen and at least try to get the meals made, and thinking about finally moving from friendship to something more isn’t going to get us to Logan’s apartment any faster.
“You never said why you were so scared to talk to Lola at my event,” I say carefully. He might really not want to talk about this, but I think he should. “You seemed pretty determined that day we met outside her house.”
He groans, and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “And here I was hoping you’d forgotten about my cowardice.”
“Nope. Not when I’ve been trying to get you another audience with her.”
“Sounds so formal,” he mutters.
“Yeah, well, you’re the one making a big deal out of it. I’m just following suit.”
Glancing back, Logan makes a quick lane shift and takes a turn so sharply that I grab his arm to steady myself.
“I don’t know why I hid from her,” he says, catching my hand before I pull it away.
His fingers lace with mine and settle on the console between us.
“Not a lot scares me, but I got a look at her and recognized so much of what I see in the mirror every day. It all became too real.”
I squeeze his hand. “I can’t imagine being in your position, Logan. There’s no way that conversation is going to be easy.”
He lets out a gentle scoff. “Says the woman whose family forced her to look after herself because she went for what she wanted.”
“But they didn’t abandon me as a baby.” Thank the heavens for that. “My family still loves me, even if they have a terrible way of showing it.”
Logan lifts our clasped hands to his lips, sending a bolt of lightning down my arm to my heart. “Someday I want to have a talk with those parents of yours.”
I can only imagine how that conversation would go down. Big and burly Aussie going up against Mr. and Mrs. Prim and Proper? I would pay money to see that. Unfortunately, I’m not likely to have any funds to spare for a while, if ever. “I’ll have to introduce you.”
“Good.”
Then I realize what we’re talking about, and the fire in my belly rushes up to my face.
Is he being genuine about meeting my parents?
Because that sounds an awful lot like he’s planning to stick around.
I know the rugby here isn’t the same as it is back in Australia, but he didn’t seem to miss the game during his suspension. Maybe it won’t matter where he plays.
“Gotta stop looking at me like that, love,” Logan warns as he scoots around a slow-moving minivan. Traffic in LA is always terrible, but he’s navigating the streets with ease. He hasn’t looked at me for a few minutes now, so I have no idea how he knows how I’m looking at him.
“Then stop kissing my knuckles,” I complain. “How else am I supposed to look at you if you’re being sweet and talking about meeting my parents?”
He curses under his breath and returns our hands to the console, his jaw flexing. “Food to prep,” he mutters and shakes his head like I’m the one pushing the boundaries this time. “We’ll get your client his food, and then we can figure out what I’m going to do with you.”
My heart does a backflip in my chest. Not because he’s making plans about me but because he said ‘we.’
Like he’s in this with me.
He’s been helping me for a couple of weeks now, but this feels like something different.
This feels like we’re together.
That’s something we both desperately need, whether we’re willing to admit it or not.