Chapter 27 Logan
Logan
She’s staring at me expectantly, but there’s only one thought in my mind that’s appropriate to speak about in a public space currently.
“I missed you,” I blurt out, though I keep my voice low as people walk by.
Her expression softens. She drops her arms and begins fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater.
“It was two days,” she points out in her soft voice. She keeps it low as someone walks into the coffee shop.
Her eyes drop to the folder in my hand and her whole being lights up with excitement.
“Any updates?” her finger points to it with eagerness laced in her voice.
It’s cute how happy the festival makes her. Sure, the whole town looks forward to this event every year, but Gwen’s excitement for it brings a whole new level. Makes me want to ask her to head it every year—which would mean a guaranteed connection between us.
I file that thought away for later.
“Aside from the online interest forms from Piper’s incredible social media ads, we have Bernie, Vinny, and Mary all signed up and ready to go. I have a few more stops I’m headed to now. Want to join me?”
She nibbles on her lower lip, her eyes darting to the cafe and back to me. “I wish I could, but I got to get back in there. I was gone for most of the day yesterday, so I need to catch up on inventory.”
“What did you do yesterday?”
“Went to a thrift store a couple towns over with Piper and my grandmother to find dresses for the gala.”
“Successful?”
She nods her head, a little pink coloring the apple of her cheeks. I want to ask about it some more, the thought of her in a gown stoking the ever present fire within me when it comes to Gwen Prescott, but she asks her own question first. “How was your time in the city?”
I scratch at the back of my head. The worry that had taken root the last couple days had quieted down a moment with my sights on Gwen.
But now, it was wiggling around making itself known again.
Anxiety starts to constrict my lungs and I push a deep breath against it.
I don’t want Gwen to know something is wrong, not until I know for sure I have the solution without jeopardizing her or anyone else I care about.
Wrestling internally with the proper explanation, I finally land on one word. “Long. What was supposed to be maybe a couple hour meeting turned into a marathon.”
Her brow furrows with concern. A small step toward me and her hand reaches out to touch my forearm.
The contact of her skin on mine is enough to send a surge of desire straight to my dick.
Now was not the time to get a hard-on, especially from a simple touch.
I can hear the complaints going straight to my father’s desk; his son sporting an erection in the middle of the street for all to witness.
Wouldn’t really bode well when the time came to announce my Mayoral take over.
On second thought, maybe I should just let my inhibitions fly and sabotage my reign—let it crash and burn before it even starts.
But I could never do that to Gwen. There are more important things at stake now.
I’ve never needed to take my father’s position as head of this small town until now.
And now it feels out of necessity, not true want.
“Something’s wrong.” She doesn’t ask. She states it as a true fact. I dodged her simple question yesterday through text. Out of pure exhaustion from the mental gymnastics I was doing all day, but also because I didn’t know what to say.
I release a long breath. “Something’s definitely not right,” I confirm, causing her furrowed brow to deepen. “Nothing for you to worry about though.”
Her mouth drops open to speak but I interrupt. “I promise. It’s mayor stuff my father is tossing into my lap. I’ve got it handled.”
That damn lip is nestled between her teeth again.
A sign I’m learning means she is worried or thinking too hard.
Goes right along with the scrunch of her brows that is present as well.
This time, though, I reach out and tug it free with my thumb.
And I really should drop my hand, but I can’t break the contact between us as my forefinger and thumb pinch her chin, tilting her face up to me.
“You can talk to me if you need to,” her words are breathy and it sends a shiver down my spine with anticipation of what they would feel like against my lips.
“I know.” I stare into her green eyes and I can’t help but be incredibly honest with her in this moment.
“I know it’s only been a short time since I came back and we became friends again.
But…” I shake my head slightly, trying to find the right words for how I’m feeling.
“You have become more to me than I could explain, Gwen.”
Her chest heaves with an inhale as her eyes widen. I worry that I said the wrong thing until her lips begin to curve upward.
“Would it be crazy to me to say I completely understand?”
I know my smile matches hers and I revel in her eyes dipping down to watch them. A clear veil of lust overtakes them.
“I wish I could kiss you right now.”
For a second, I wonder if she’s going to lean up on her tiptoes and do just that. Instead, we both jump away from each other, my hand falling away and my fingers tingling at the loss of contact, when a car alarm goes off down the street.
“Probably not the best place for that, I have to say.” She chuckles awkwardly, grabbing her long locks and placing them over one shoulder. “I should,” her thumb jutting over her other shoulder toward the cafe.
“Yeah, I need to finish up my rounds,” I wave the folder in the air.
Gwen smirks, clearly unsure how to end this conversation as she gives a small wave and turns away from me.
“Wait.” I call out, causing her to stop on a dime and look back at me.
One of her brows quirks up as she darts a quick look around us. “I don’t think a goodbye kiss is in the cards for us, Logan. We aren’t quite there in this friendship.”
I smirk. “Yet.”
She rolls her green eyes and patiently waits for me to continue with why I stopped her.
“I heard back from Frederick Jacobs.”
Her eyes quickly widen, and her mouth drops open.
“Well, his team,” I add. “They said they have some merch and concert tickets if we want them for the silent auction.”
Gwen bounces on the toes of her boots. “And you said yes, right?”
“Of course I said yes. But there’s a catch.”
She drops back down to her feet. “There’s always a catch.
I knew it was too good to be true. How much money do they want?
I think we have some extra funds in the decoration money since we are going to reuse everything from last year.
Though I’ll definitely have to run it by your parents first.” Her thumb goes to her teeth; this time nibbling on that instead of her lips.
I reach out and pull her hand down from her mouth. “No money. We have to go pick it up. They are on tour, and they can’t guarantee it’ll get here on time.”
Okay, that’s not completely the truth. But when they offered two backstage passes to meet Frederick and the band if we pick up the items, the thought of potentially taking Gwen there for a date formed in my mind.
“Oh,” she visibly relaxes. “That’s not terrible. Where do we have to go?”
“Lucky enough, he’s performing at the Orange Peel this weekend.”
Gwen’s green eyes squint. “I haven’t been there since high school. That’s easy enough. A couple of hours away is better than the few I thought you would say if we had to go to Charlotte. I bet Piper and the guys would love to go, too.”
“I thought we could make a night out of it.”
Her brows slammed down in confusion before her mouth popped open in a wide O. “L-like a date?” The stutter of unsureness makes me bite back a grin.
“If that’s okay with you. It would be away from these prying eyes,” I swirl my finger around to include all of Willow Grove. “And we could get to know each other better on a personal level outside of this place.”
Her lips purse. “That’s just another layer of the forced proximity trope,” she muses.
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “You and that damn trope again.”
She slaps my chest, but before she can pull it away, I trap it there with my hand.
Her eyes jump from my chest, around the street, and back to me again.
I know she’s worried about someone seeing us so close, talking for so long, but I’ll blame it on festival planning if my father questions it.
Not that it’s a total lie, just a bit of stretching the truth.
“Come with me.”
“Are we driving back right after the concert?”
“If that’s what you want to do. I’ll drive all night to get us back home, just say yes.”
She taps her fingers on my chest in quick succession, those damn perfect lips pursed again as she stares up at me.
“What if I want to stay the night?”
I gulp and try to be as gentlemanly as possible at the thought. “Then I’ll get us a couple of rooms in town.”
She shuffles her feet until she’s right in front of me. One deep breath from both of us and our chests would probably brush. She tilts her face up to me, and I fight everything within me not to tilt mine down and capture her lips.
“What if I want to share a room with you?”
Her words are soft, but they hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Isn’t that just another trope?”
She giggles, and I can feel it dance over my grin. I instantly decided it’s my favorite sound in the whole world.
“That would be the one bed trope. So it would only qualify if that’s what you book.”
I nod. “Maybe I need to pick up a few romance books and take some pointers. These tropes sound right up my alley.” I reach up with my free hand and brush a stray hair out of her face.
My fingers linger a little longer on her cheek when her eyelashes flutter at the feeling. “Whatever you want,” I whisper to her.
She hums in response. “Be careful. You keep giving me what I want, and you might have a hard time getting rid of me.”
“Maybe that was my plan the whole time.”
Gwen giggles one more time, but this time she pushes off my chest and takes a step back. I reluctantly drop her hand when she gets too far to hold on.
“Can I think about it?”
I nod. “Take all the time you need. Until Friday, that is. Because the concert is Saturday night.”
She reaches for the door handle of the coffee shop. “I’ll let you know.” With a wink and another wave of her fingers, she finally steps into her cafe and disappears from my view.
I wasn’t lying. I would give this girl whatever she wants. Because looking in her eyes, having her in my orbit, crawling under my skin in the best way possible is the most natural feeling in the world.
“Hot damn, I need a cold shower after that.”
I jerk my head to the side and find a customer set up at one of the bistro tables Gwen has outside. A cup of coffee in hand and a plate empty save for the pastry crumbs dotting the ceramic.
He grins at me, and I try to politely return mine; though this odd feeling starts to settle in my chest. He looks familiar, though that could just be the generic face he has or the ball cap low on his head obscuring the full view.
“I just love young love,” he sighs wistfully. “How long have you two been an item?”
I furrow my brow. “We aren’t together.” The words are true, technically, but they taste bitter in my mouth.
He hmms in response, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it. My wife played hard to get once upon a time, too. Happily married thirty years next August, though.”
“Congratulations.” I’m not completely sure what to say to this obvious tourist, so I just pull a page out of Gwen’s book and shoot a small wave as I start to walk away. “Have a good day. You picked a great time to visit Willow Grove.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He chuckles and tips his hat at me. “Have a good one, sir.”
I keep walking down the street, resisting a look behind me to see if the man is still watching me go. But I wave it off when I think about Gwen again. And the possible date that may or may not include a hotel room this weekend.
I can’t wipe the grin off my face the rest of the day if I tried.