Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Logan stood outside Sparks Barbeque and cursed himself for being the world’s biggest jackass. It had been a week since Lacy had shown up at his shop and seduced the fuck out of him.
And for seven days, he’d done nothing but think about how he wanted her to do it again. After her mind-blowing blowjob, he had helped her dress and cuddled her on his lap as they sat in his desk chair for nearly an hour. He’d cuddled her, for God’s sake.
Then, he told her to take a week to decide if she wanted another round. Damn woman had said yes before he had finished speaking, but he’d rejected the response and insisted she really think about it.
Now, it wasn’t her at his doorstep, but him at hers.
He tried to reassure himself he wasn’t here because of the sex—yeah, right—but because of business.
He had to get her chaise lounge out of his shop.
It was driving him insane. He’d been a fool to make that her safe word.
Every time he looked at the thing, he recalled Lacy bent over his desk as he spanked her.
It was way past time to get Lacy Sparks out of his head. He hoped that by engaging her here—amongst her family—he’d remember why it was a very bad idea for him to become involved with his best friend’s sister.
Lacy homed in on him the second he crossed the threshold, her too-pleased grin doing funny things to his insides.
It occurred to him she had always lit up like that whenever he walked into a room, even when she was just a kid.
And it had always made him feel good. Made him want to be a good man, a positive role model, the kind of person who was worthy of her admiration.
Now it just made him want to push her into the nearest broom closet and have his wicked way with her.
“Hey,” she said as she approached him.
“Hi, Lace.” His fingers itched to pull her close to him, to hug her tightly. That impulse seemed odd. He would have expected to feel desire—and he did—but the urge to simply embrace her and soak up the smell of her perfume was even stronger.
“Did you come for dinner? I’m off the clock in about ten minutes. I worked the breakfast and lunch shifts today. I could join you.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not here for food.” He pointed to where his truck was parked out front. “I’ve got your chaise. Thought I’d see if you could take a few minutes to pop over to your place and unload it. Looks like I picked a good time.”
She leaned closer and murmured, “It’s been a week.”
Logan sighed. “I know.”
“Hey, Logan,” Tyson called out from his seat at the end of the bar. “Come have a beer with me.”
Logan nodded. “Go finish your shift. I’ll wait for you.”
He crossed the crowded room, stopping to say hello to a few people.
One of the best—and worst—things about living in the same small town your whole life was that everybody knew everybody else.
And not just in a “passing acquaintance” way, but in a “remember you when you were knee-high to a grasshopper” way.
As such, his buddy, Joel’s mom, Ms. Rodriguez had no compunction about asking him for the millionth time how he could have let that lovely girlfriend of his go. He politely told her the breakup had been Jane’s decision, not his.
TJ didn’t mind slapping him on the back and joking he’d been smart to avoid putting on the ball and chain. Then he’d not-too-subtly reminded him that his daughter Macie was still single.
Logan simply raised one eyebrow. “I think Macie is too much woman for me.”
TJ laughed loudly, the sound booming across the room. “Yeah. She probably is. What about my baby girl, Adele, then?”
TJ was always trying to play matchmaker for his daughters. Something that drove Macie and Adele nuts, since all those efforts were made right in front of them.
“Ignore him, Logan. We suspect dementia is setting in,” Macie called out from behind the bar. “And dear God, Dad. Why are you still here? You’re not even on the schedule to work today.”
“It’s happy hour,” TJ called out, lifting his beer and clinking glasses with Coach Carr.
Sparks Barbeque was actually TJ’s restaurant, but he left the cooking, waitressing, management, basically everything to the girls.
And between the seven of them, they had put the restaurant—and by extension, Maris, Texas—on the map.
The place had been featured in several national magazines as one of the best barbeque joints in the country, and just last month, Paige had received a call from the Food Network about filming a show there.
For several days, the local gossips had been all abuzz about the possibility of their little town appearing on TV.
Finally, Logan made it to the bar, claiming the stool next to Tyson. “Busy in here tonight.”
Tyson shrugged. “It’s Friday in Maris.” He let the comment stand as if that explained it all, which it did.
With the exception of Cruisers, which was on the outskirts of town and catered more to the party crowd, Sparks Barbeque was the only other option for social drinking.
It was quieter, and it attracted the older men who liked to toss back a few with TJ, and the established couples out on dates, looking for a place where they didn’t have to yell to be heard over the loud music.
“Budweiser?” Macie asked him, even though she was already pouring the draft.
Logan nodded his thanks as Macie went back to the other end of the bar, continuing the story she’d been telling Coop without missing a beat.
“You know,” Tyson said, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should get the band back together.”
Logan laughed as he shook his head. He, Tyson, and their friends Harley and Caleb had formed Ty’s Collective back in high school.
When Caleb and Tyson went off to college, they’d do local gigs whenever the guys were home over holidays and then they had resurrected it full-time after Tyson graduated from med school and returned to Maris. “Hell no.”
“Why not?”
Logan lifted his hand as he ticked off his reasons. “For one thing, Cal’s too busy running his father’s Feed and Seed while he recovers from his heart attack, and Harley moved away. Band wouldn’t sound the same without her killing it on the banjo.”
Harley Mills had been an integral part of their group of friends for the past thirty or so years, but that changed when she took off to Florida a year ago after her brother’s death.
They all felt her absence. With her departure, the band had dissolved.
Logan missed the music and the camaraderie, but he also knew Ty’s Collective only worked with Harley on the stage with them.
“I can be the lead singer,” Macie interjected.
“Jesus, Mace. How do you do that?” Tyson asked. “You’re in the middle of a conversation with Coop, yet you’re listening in on ours.”
Macie shrugged. “It’s not that hard. Besides, I don’t like to miss stuff. Like Mrs. Higgins over there bitching about the new sign outside the Baptist church. Let it go, Agnes.”
“I’m not bitching,” Agnes called out. “I just said it was hard to read.”
Macie ignored the woman’s outburst and pointed to TJ. “And Dad’s over there making a bet on next week’s Rangers game with Coach Carr, even though he promised my mom he wouldn’t gamble anymore.”
TJ frowned, hotly denying what everyone in the place knew was true. “I am not. And don’t be feeding your mother those stories either.”
Macie rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Logan and Tyson. “So I can be lead singer.”
Tyson shook his head vehemently. “No way. Never. Not in a million years. I’ve heard you sing, Mace. It’s bad. Really bad.”
Macie was infamous for her extraordinarily awful singing voice, a fact she drove home when she took it upon herself to sing “The National Anthem” at the annual Fourth of July picnic by the lake a few years earlier.
Patriotism hit a new low as everyone in attendance burst out in hoots and hollers, laughing until their sides hurt at the painful performance.
Which, of course, only encouraged an unoffended Macie to sign louder and to draw out the high notes longer.
“You’re tone deaf,” Logan added.
“I’ve been practicing in the shower. I really think I’m getting it. Tell them, Coop. You were here last week when I sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Paige. Nailed it, didn’t I?”
Coop looked at her, frowning. “You were singing? I thought you’d burned yourself on one of the candles.”
Macie chucked a peanut at Coop’s head, which he deftly dodged. “To hell with all of you.” Then she launched right back into whatever story she’d been telling Coop before interrupting them. She was impossible to keep up with, but funny as hell.
Logan had avoided the restaurant for two weeks, trying to hide from Lacy. Now, he realized he’d missed it.
“Maybe we can find another banjo player, and I can do most of the lead vocals,” Tyson offered. “We all took turns at the mic anyway.”
“Tyson, I know you’ll probably find this hard to believe, but we weren’t that good.
” It was a boldfaced lie. They were awesome.
More than once, it had been suggested that they all quit their day jobs and pursue the music career full-time.
None of them had been tempted. It was a passion that they all shared—on a hobby level.
Tyson chuckled. “Bullshit.”
“Why the big need to start it all up again? Aren’t you pretty busy these days?”
Dr. Tyson Sparks was the one who’d suggested they take a hiatus after Harley left.
He was one of only two general practitioners who lived in Maris, while the nearest hospital resided nearly forty minutes away in the neighboring town of Douglas.
As such, he was in constant demand, treating everything from cut fingers to the more serious medical concerns.
“I thought you might like the distraction,” Tyson explained.
“Distraction?” The only thing Logan needed to be distracted from was Lacy, but God help him if Tyson knew that. He was as overprotective of his cousins and sister, Paige, as Evan was.
“It was just a thought.”