Chapter 18
H igh on his conversation and tour of the building with Melanie, Logan drove to his parent’s house. He wanted to talk to his mom sooner rather than later, mainly because he didn’t want her to hear from anyone else that he wanted her to run his gallery.
He’d texted to let her know he was on his way so that he wouldn’t accidentally walk in on his parents doing anything that would make him want to go blind. Aging had not stopped them from acting like teenagers when it came to sex, and Logan was man enough to admit that it grossed him out.
Sex and parents were two words that did not belong in the same sentence.
He found his mom out on the porch, tending to her flowers.
“Hey, mom.”
She looked up from watering. “Twice in a week. I’m starting to feel special.”
Shaking his head, he took a seat on the swing that he and Brandon had helped their dad make as teenagers. “I figure I have a lot of time to make up for.”
She sat her watering can down and took a seat across from him. “What’s on your mind, son of mine?”
Rather than ease into it, he got straight to the point. “When I open the gallery, I’m going to need someone to run it, the business side. I was thinking maybe you’d like the job?”
“Me.” She pointed at her chest. “Why would you want me?”
He stopped swinging and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Because you are the smartest, most organized person I know. But more than that, because I think you would love it.”
“Logan, I’ve worked, but I have never had a job that big. I’m not sure I could do it.”
“You absolutely could,” Logan turned at his dad’s voice.
Logan stayed quiet and just admired the communication his parents seemed to have, without even speaking. His dad took her hand and lifted her to her feet. “If you want to do this, then do it. Don’t let the fear of the unknown stop you. And besides, when have you ever been afraid of anything?”
“What if I fail or I’m not good at it?”
This time Logan spoke up. “Then I’ll hire someone else.” He shrugged at his mom’s sideways glance to him.
He knew his mom and he had no doubt that she was capable of running his gallery.
She looked back at his dad. “I want to do it.”
He watched as his dad kissed her smiling lips. “Logan, it looks like you have yourself an employee,” he said after the kiss.
“I have a long way to go before I’ll even have a business, but I’m glad to have one thing taken care of.”
He stayed a little while longer, he and his mom talking through things that he was thinking about and giving her examples of things she would be in charge of. When he left, she was more excited than he had ever seen her, and his dad even pulled him aside and thanked him.
When he got home, he called up the mayor and asked for the contact info for the family who owned the old building. If he was going to do this, he needed to secure the location and get started on the renovations as soon as possible.
But, before he could purchase a building, he needed to secure a bank loan and that meant making a call to his financial advisor.
Chris was an old family friend and happened to run his business in Cedarville. When Logan had first started making money, he’d needed someone who he could trust to handle it. And that was Chris. His parents had used him, along with half the town, and Logan knew that he could trust him.
And now that he thought back on it, he was so thankful for his decision. He’d almost gone with a big New York firm that his agent had recommended. That firm just happened to have been Leah’s dad’s firm.
What a small world they lived in.
If he had gone with her dad’s firm, he would have lost everything, just like the rest of his clients.
Thank God for small-town loyalty.
Plus, he was certain that if he’d had his money with her dad’s firm, she would have never moved to Cedarville and then she and Bran would have never met and fallen in love.
His one decision impacted a lot of people and he was glad he’d made the right one.
Chris had a few ideas and wanted to meet with him the next day to go over things and set up some appointments with banks. And that meant that Logan had the rest of the day free. Melanie would be at work until after eight and even though they hadn’t made plans to get together, Logan was prepared to go to her place and stay if she didn’t come to him.
Grabbing his camera, he sought refuge in his office and for hours poured over pictures that he’d taken. Not since his last photoshoot had he had a chance to edit and review any of his pictures. When he came across pictures that he’d taken of Melanie just days after she had been knocked unconscious by Leah’s stalker, he stilled.
Melanie with a black eye.
Melanie with a bandage on her forehead.
Melanie talking to Carly, tears in her eyes.
His throat grew tight and he had a hard time catching his breath. He remembered the fear, the way he’d felt when he walked in and found her lying on the floor unconscious.
Helpless. He’d felt so fucking helpless.
It was at that moment, that something inside him had changed. And really, changed wasn’t even the right word. It was more like grew...yeah, his feelings for her grew. They grew from friendship into love. A love that had already been there for years, he had just been too damn idiotic to notice.
He wanted to stop staring at the photos, but he was drawn to how vulnerable she looked in them. He was still clicking through them when he heard a noise and then as if he’d dreamed her, Melanie was standing in his office doorway.
“What are you doing here?”
“I tried to call.” She didn’t enter the room or come closer. “But you weren’t answering.”
He looked around for his phone. “I must have left my phone in the living room.”
“You look sad. Is everything okay?”
“Just working.” He stood and started to move around his desk. She would not want to see the pictures of herself.
“Can I see?” And before he knew it, she was around his desk, staring at his screen.
“Oh,” she gasped and put her hand over her mouth.
“You don’t have to look at these.” He tried to turn her away from the computer. Instead she sat down.
“God, I look so fragile.”
He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Seriously, you don’t have to look at these.”
“Why were you looking at them?”
“They just came up when I was going through pictures.”
She turned her head and looked up at him. “Is this why you looked so sad when I walked in?”
Lying to her was not an option. One, because she knew him well enough and could tell and two because in his book you didn't lie to people you loved. He knelt and turned the chair so she was facing him. “You looked so...defeated and I'm just not used to seeing you that way.”
Her hand came up and caressed his cheek. “You took care of me and I was a total bitch to you the whole time.”
“You had every right to be bitchy.”
She tilted her head. “I was only mean to you because I was in love with you, and it was killing me having you fawn all over me.”
“That day was the day that I realized my feelings for you went way deeper than friendship. And touching you was almost like a healing for me. It let me know that you were alive and that I still had time to be the man you deserved.”
She slid off the chair and onto his lap, her lips teasing his jawline. “Make me feel alive now. Make love to me, Logan.”
Every nerve ending in his body was shouting yes. But there was one part of him somewhere down deep that kept saying no. He wasn't sure why he was even listening to that voice, but he was, and it wasn't going to change now.
“Not tonight,” he whispered in her ear and then taking it between his teeth. “But I'm game for anything else.”
“You're starting to give me a complex.” She sat back just enough for him to see her face, her sad pouty face. “I need to know why.”
Instead of answering he laid back on the floor and covered his eyes with his arms. He knew it was a childish thing to do, but what answer could he give her? He himself had no idea why he was waiting. It was just a feeling. He couldn't explain a feeling.
“Logan,” she said in her scolding voice. He felt her move off his lap and sit next to him.
Lowering his arms, he took one of her hands in his. “I don't know why.” When she started to pull her hand away angrily, he sat up, not letting her. “Melanie, I am not holding off for any reason that I can give you. All I know is that there is this small voice in my head telling me to wait. That's it's important that we wait.” Her expression told him that she was having a hard time believing him. So he went on. “It's the same voice that told me to take the job right out of college. And the one that told me it was time to move home again. Not to mention the one that showed me how much I love you. I have to listen to the voice. I always have and my life has turned out pretty fucking amazing.”
“Well why didn't you just say that?”
“Cause I sound like a freaking lunatic.”
She pushed him back down to a flat position and lifted her leg over him. Seated fully on top of him, he felt his dick stir. She leaned over, hands on either side of his head. “I was a dancer, if anyone understands superstition it's me.”
He searched her eyes. “You're really okay with it?”
“I didn't say that,” she laughed.
He gripped her hips in his hands. “Every second I wait it gets harder and harder.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I can feel for myself how hard it is.”
At her words, his cock twitched under her, making him lift his hips slightly off the floor. Words were no longer needed as their conversation turned from verbal to physical. Her lips brushed his in a barely there kiss that had his mouth searching hers out. But she denied him with a sly smile against his mouth.
His hands traveled up her torso, landing on her rib cage, his thumbs just under her breasts. Through her shirt, he ran each thumb along the underside and then went higher and felt her nipples pebble under his touch.
Her catch of breath told him that she liked it, so he did it again. She leaned into his hands forcing her chest almost into his face.
The view was fucking spectacular.
He was practically salivating for the chance to put her perfect breasts in his mouth. Lifting her shirt, he flung it over her head and feasted his eyes on the prize. Her bra was black and lacy and gave him every indication that she planned to be in this exact situation when she put it on. She sat up straighter on top of him and he watched in awe as she reached behind her and unclasped the bra. When the straps finally fell, he gave himself just a second to admire the tight pink nipples before taking one in his mouth. Looking at them was too much for him. He needed them in his mouth, his teeth biting down.
Her moans of pleasure and the way she was grinding on his cock, pushed him to be slightly rougher than he had ever been with her or anyone. He couldn’t get enough of her and his actions were a direct response to that.
When he felt her shake on top of him, he knew that she was about to come from just his mouth. And knowing that, that he had the power to bring this strong woman to her knees with just his mouth, had him working even harder.
Her panting grew and soon she was stringing together incoherent words and throwing her head back in ecstasy.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was fucking spectacular like this. Releasing her breast from his mouth, he dropped his head back on the floor and dropped both arms to his sides. Watching her come was an out of this world experience. She didn’t hesitate and didn’t hold anything back. And that was fucking sexy as hell.
She slid her legs out straight behind her and rolled to her stomach, resting her head on his abs. She eyed him for a few seconds and then said, “I always seem to surprise myself when I’m with you.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She gave a slight shake of her head. “No, just an observation.”
He was about to say something back, but his stomach chose that exact moment to growl.
She laughed. “Did you eat dinner, or were you holed up in here all night?”
He shrugged and sat up, taking her with him. “I get busy sometimes and forget. This was one of those times.”
“Come on then, I’ll make you something.”
He tried to help but she pushed him down on a chair and told him to relax. He watched as she made him a sandwich and talked aimlessly about her day. He could picture this same scenario ten years in the future.
“What are you smiling about over here?” She slid a plate in front of him and sat down across from him.
“I was just thinking about the future.” He bit into the sandwich she’d made him.
“About the gallery?”
“That and other things,” he said. Which wasn’t a lie. “I talked to my mom today.”
“And?” she asked, excitement in her eyes.
“She said yes,” he said around a bite of his sandwich.
“Yay!” she clapped her hands. “That is so exciting.”
It was interesting, a couple of days ago he could have sworn that she was still not totally on board with him opening a gallery. But now it seemed as if she’d done a complete one-eighty. He wanted to question it but instead kept his mouth shut.
A smart man didn’t start an argument just for the hell of it.
And he was a smart man.