Chapter 9 Logan
Logan
I’m doing my best not to stare at her ass as she walks in front of me.
But I’m only human and the jeans she has on are fitted perfectly.
I’m almost a split second too late to remove my eyes when she steps to the side and waves a hand into her office.
That would be just my luck. I was already late to our meeting, the cherry on top would be getting caught ogling her ass like a fucking creep.
The space is the perfect extension of the main rooms of the cafe.
All warm wood, including the desk facing the doorway, and the overflowing bookcases lining the back wall.
There’s a matching couch to the ones in the dining area against the opposite wall.
The coffee table in front of it is covered in books and notepads.
But it’s the framed posters that catch my eyes.
“The Wolfman. Dracula. Frankenstein. Still a fan of the classics, I see.”
Gwen sits on one end of the couch below them, shuffling the papers on the desk until they are in a perfect stack. Her eyes cast down as she hums out a response I don’t quite understand.
I take the opposite end of the couch, eyeing the notebooks and binder on the table as she flips through them before landing on already filled pages.
Her swirling script I remember from high school has everything organized in handwritten perfection.
The top reading “Festival Ideas” on one and “To Do List” on the other.
I let out a low whistle. Her eyes snap up to mine as a blush overtakes her cheeks. This causes her freckles to become more pronounced, and I like the flushed look on her face more than I should.
Clearing my throat, I gesture toward the papers. “You’re taking this incredibly seriously.”
The blush tracks down her neck on full display, with her hair done up in a high ponytail. The curled red strands flow behind her as she shakes head lightly.
“I wasn’t joking when I said this was a big deal for me. Even if it wasn’t, why wouldn’t I take it seriously? This is our town’s biggest event of the year. People travel from all over to visit. I’m not going to half-ass it.”
Putting my hands up between us, I stop her from going further. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I definitely did not mean it that way. I love that you have so much passion for it.”
She takes a deep breath, before dropping her shoulders. “That’s two apologies in five minutes. Is that a regular thing for you?”
I chuckle once. “What? Sticking my foot in my mouth or being late to something? The former probably, not so much the latter. Which, again, I am sorry about. I got caught up in a meeting with my father.”
The skepticism in her eyes tells me she doesn’t completely believe me, not that she has any reason to do so.
I wish like hell I could give her more so she would understand why I was tardy, but I can’t tell her what the meeting involved.
Thanks in part to the major secrets looming over us, but because I also reviewed a hefty NDA.
Not that I signed it, yet. My own lawyer was combing through every stroke of the letters in it in case my father was up to something else.
“Try not to let it happen again, please.” She says, pulling me back to the present.
“I promise I won’t.” I cross my heart, eliciting a brow raise from her.
Placing the biggest binder in her lap, she scoots a little further into the middle of the couch and I take that as my sign to do the same. The faint smell of peaches waft up to me as she fidgets with her ponytail strands that fell over her shoulder before tossing them back again.
“I already have a ton of ideas, obviously we can’t do them all, but we have plenty to choose from.”
I pull the book closer to my lap, looking over the detailed idea list in awe. “You came up with all of these?”
“I told you, this is a big deal to me. I’ve been compiling ideas in the off chance I ever got to work with your mom on the event.”
I nudge my elbow into her arm. “Look at you now. Skipping that step and going right to running the whole thing.”
She chews on her lower lip, her eyes stuck to the page in front of us. “I don’t know why. Your mom always seemed to thrive with this event.” Her eyes land on mine. “Why would she just hand over the whole thing? Not even a trial period? Doesn’t really seem like her.”
I can’t tell her the whole reason. That my parents are currently neck deep in contracts and lawyers. That they are trying to keep developers and CEOs happy with extra shmoozing.
I swallow back against the lump forming in my throat. “I think she just wants to put all of her focus on the Gala.”
Gwen nods her head, moving her gaze back to the list between us. “Makes sense, I guess. Plus, she’s probably getting ready to transfer everything over to your plate. I bet they have big retirement plans after all these years.”
You have no idea, I think to myself. Instead of responding, I pull the binder over to lay half on my lap, moving the focus back to the task at hand.
“Tell me which of these ideas you want to shoot for the most. Let’s see if we can narrow down the list to pick from today.
Then we can start figuring out which would be the best for execution. ”
“Smart,” she mutters. Her dark purple painted fingernail traces down the page before landing halfway down.
“Obviously we need to keep the silent auction. Not only because it is the biggest moneymaker, but I think the town would riot if they couldn’t have some friendly fire over who is going to win the vacation. ”
“Obviously,” I agree. “The chili cook-off is always a hit, so we need to keep that.”
Gwen looks around on the table for a second, and I’m about to ask what she was looking for when she leans over my lap, grabbing the orange highlighter. The scent of peaches fills my senses again as she rights herself. I have to refrain myself from following the enticing scent
She uncaps the lid with her left hand, tracing the two agreed-upon items with her right. When she looks up, she clearly mistakes my knitted brows for confusion with her action as she says, “Just so we can keep track of the good ones.”
What she doesn’t realize is that the only thing confusing me right now is why I feel the need so strongly to trace her neck with my nose and inhale so that she fills my lungs.
“Makes sense.” I clear my throat and return my attention back to the page in front of me. “What else do we have here? A fun run could be good. Something for the whole family to do, and we’ve got plenty of great trails to use.”
“We did one earlier this year. Just a family 5k, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. Plus, we raised a lot of money for the Patterson’s.”
“Wait,” I turn toward Gwen. My knee knocks into hers under the cover of the binder that lays over our legs. “My mom told me about the fundraiser after their crops caught on fire. She said the event went off without a hitch and was the biggest fundraiser the town had ever seen. That was you?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
I chuckle. “I’m not—just in awe. No wonder she is perfectly fine with you leading the charge. You’ve got talent. Why didn’t you go into party planning?”
Her nose scrunches. “I don’t think I could do it as a career, if I’m being honest. I love the cafe too much. Event planning is something I enjoy, sure, but I like doing it for a purpose. Not just because someone is paying me.”
“When you can use it for good.”
Gwen grins at me. “Exactly.”
I can’t help but grin back as I watch her heart shine through her eyes.
I’m captivated as she tilts her head just so, causing her bangs to slide from behind her ear.
I reach up, softly tucking the hair behind her ear, as if it’s the most natural gesture in the world for me.
Gwen’s lips part on a sharp inhale when my fingers brush against the shell of her ear.
Our eyes are locked, and it’s almost impossible to look away, but I force myself to look back down at the list. My hand drops back into the space between us on the couch.
“Let’s see what else you’ve come up with.”
She hums in agreement next to me. “Right. Um, here.” She leans over and quickly highlights fun run.
I track down the rest of the list, actively trying not to focus solely on the woman beside me.
Ultimately, that’s pointless as she unknowingly assaults all of my senses.
My fingers still tingle from the brief touch.
Her tantalizing scent still fills my nose.
My peripheral vision practically aches to look at her again.
I can feel her own eyes on me as I read, and I wonder if she feels the same pull that I do. Thankfully, though, she steers us back to the conversation at hand.
“The dunk tank would be great if we can get volunteers that have history in the town. Your dad, for example. If we could get him to do it, I bet the turnout for tickets would be record-breaking.”
I chuckle lightly. “I know I would pay a pretty penny to dunk him.”
She taps the page. “We could set up a projector in the town square for a movie night under the stars. We still have the popcorn machines from a few years ago. Probably needs a good cleaning, but it would be a good draw for more people to spend the day.”
I look up with a smirk. “As long as it’s not one of your slasher films. We don’t need to traumatize the town.”
She rolls her pretty eyes, but the tilt of her lips tells me I didn’t upset her with my comment. “How was I supposed to know you had a weak stomach?”
Laughter bubbles up in me as the memory plays in my head. “How was I supposed to know my lab partner required horror movies for comfort?”
“Hey, we aced that test with my study skills.”
“Because I couldn’t look up from the textbook without wanting to toss my cookies and there was no way I was going to waste Ophelia’s fresh-baked chocolatey goodness.” I shudder for effect, shaking the coffee table my knees are against. But it’s worth it when Gwen tosses her head back laughing.