Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Logan
W hen they got back to Rowan’s truck, Cassie had gone. As they had walked back to the truck Harper had grown silent, walking stiffly by his side. But when she saw only Rowan leaning against the side of the vehicle—scrolling through his phone—she visibly relaxed, smiling once more.
He frowned. He didn’t like the idea of Harper and Cassie not getting along.
Come on, man. It’s not like she’s going to be staying. What difference does it make?
He gritted his teeth and nodded at Rowan. “Ready?”
Rowan reached out and handed Logan the keys to his truck. “Nah, I have some shit to do. You two head on back, I’ll get a ride to pick up the truck later.”
Logan took the keys and nodded. “Thanks, man.”
Rowan sauntered off down the street, hands in his pockets. Logan watched him for a second before opening the truck’s door for Harper.
She slid into the passenger seat, and he rounded the hood, then settled himself behind the steering wheel. Turning the key, he started the engine but sat for a moment before turning to Harper.
“Are you alright?” He asked. “You really don’t need to see the doctor?”
Harper smiled and reached over to pat his hand where it lay on the gear shift between them. “I’m fine. Promise.”
Her touch was light, but it may as well have been a cattle prod for its effect on him. When he had taken her into his arms, he hadn’t thought about anything other than comforting her. But now? He shifted on the seat, his pants feeling too tight in a way he hoped Harper didn’t notice. He looked down at her hand resting on his and she pulled it away.
She smiled at him, seemingly oblivious to the chaos she brought to his state of mind.
And his pants.
He rolled his eyes at himself and started the truck, pulling out into the street and heading back out of town toward home. Logan tried to ignore the discomfort of the tight denim, but with her sitting next to him it was next to impossible. The scent of her shampoo and the light floral perfume she wore filled the cabin of the truck.
Logan wound down his window, but that made it worse as her hair began to fly around her face. She was so beautiful his chest ached to look at her, and she didn’t seem to know it.
He scolded himself for taking even quick glances at her as he drove. You should be looking at the road.
The ride back to Beaver Road was silent, except for the radio playing one of the two stations Rowan could get in the old truck. Country music filled the cab, and Logan was startled when Harper began to softly sing along to the music.
Her voice was like nothing he’d ever heard. So clear and perfect that he didn’t want to breathe in case he did something that made her stop singing. He slowed the truck, hoping to make the moment last, but the turn to Beaver Road came all too quickly.
Harper stopped singing when he pulled to the side of the road.
Would she sing for me if I asked her to?
Logan turned off the truck and they hopped out, quickly picking their way back through the debris strewn across the road.
“What did you do with the keys?” She asked when they made their way to his own truck.
“Keys?”
“For Rowan’s truck?”
“I tucked them behind the visor.”
Harper’s mouth drops open, looking from Logan to where Rowan’s truck was parked in full view of the main road. “Won’t someone steal it?”
Logan laughed as he turned to open the door for Harper to his own, much newer, vehicle. “No.”
Harper climbed in. “Because it’s so old?”
“Because this is Cape Wilde,” he said.
He was reminded again of how Harper’s world was so very different to his own. He’s from a small town, she’s from LA. He lived a quiet life, she was forever in the spotlight. Or at least so close to it she may as well be. They are very, very different people.
And yet he was still drawn to her.
She’s not Savannah.
He knew that, but Harper was still going to leave for a life where success was determined by popularity and looks. Didn’t Harper say as much herself when she was talking about how Isla was the one that belonged in the spotlight?
Logan scowled. There was something really wrong with that.
He picked his way back slowly to the house, the road still covered in debris. Normally, he’d stop and start clearing it up, but he wanted to get Harper home first.
Home.
It felt right having her by his side. He’d never brought another woman to his home, except for his sister and his mom, and they didn’t count. Not like Harper did.
The light was still good when he pulled into his usual spot next to the house. Logan helped Harper bring her things inside before heading back out to the truck.
“Are you going somewhere?”
He turned to see Harper standing in the doorway to the mud room, fuzzy socks on her feet and her hair dragged up on top of her head in a messy bun held in place with a bright pink scrunchie. She looked cozy and adorable, and he wanted to do nothing more than wrap her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
Don’t scare the woman. She’s had a rough enough time as it is.
He grunted and turned away to load the rest of his gear into the back of the truck. “Just to clear the road.”
“Oh. Ok.”
Did she sound disappointed? He looked up, resting his arms on the side of the tray.
“What? Starting to like the idea of being stuck here with me?” He grinned. Logan wasn’t a flirter, but with Harper he couldn’t help it.
“What?” She darted a look at him, flustered. “No. Of course not.”
“So you want me to go?”
She scowled and stomped her foot in a way that made Logan grin. She was utterly adorable.
“Argh!” She threw her hands in the air and turned to go back into the house. “Have fun with the… the stuff!” She called over her shoulder before letting the door bang shut.
Logan laughed and finished loading the truck. The work would tire him out enough that he wouldn’t think about the woman with curves just made to fill his hands. Amber-brown eyes that he wanted to see go liquid with desire. He wondered how much she’d blush if he told her exactly where he wanted to put his mouth.
Catching himself, he stopped laughing, and with a curse, yanked open the truck’s door and climbed in, determined to do whatever it took to wear himself out.
I t was starting to get dark when Logan came home. He’d managed to clear away most of the larger branches on the road, leaving just loose-leaf matter for the wind. His neighbor was visiting his daughter and her children in Boston, so he’d gone to check on his house. There was no damage, but Logan had to move a small tree from where it had fallen across the drive. It had taken more time than he’d anticipated, but it was better to do the job properly than leave it for someone else to do later.
Logan liked his neighbor and didn’t mind helping him out now and then.
The log that had washed up to block the road was too big for him to deal with on his own. Logan moved the smaller branches and cleared the site as best he could to make the job easier later.
While he was working, Rowan had arrived with Cassie, who’d dropped him off to pick up his truck.
“Can you apologize to Harper for me?” She asked Logan, wringing her hands.
He was pulling a branch away from the road, dragging it out of the way. He grunted as he tossed it into the ditch opposite where Harper’s little rental lay crushed.
“You can apologize to her yourself.”
“I’m not sure she’ll want to see me. Besides, she’s only here for a short time.”
Logan grunted, not wanting to answer.
The more time he spent with the curvy blonde, the more he didn’t want her to leave. And the reasons why were not something he really wanted to face up to right now.
So he’d kept clearing as much as he could, pushing until the light had dropped low enough that he was forced to stop.
Now, back home again, he closed the door on the truck and made his way to the mud room, stripping off his boots and tossing his socks in the hamper he kept there for dirty work clothes. He’d need to do a load of laundry tomorrow, he noted as he pulled off his sweaty tee shirt and added it to the pile.
Logan padded into the house, his bare feet quiet on the wooden floors. He’d never come home to someone in his house before and he smiled, following the smell of baking into the kitchen.
There was a tray of cookies cooling on a rack he couldn’t remember owning. He snagged one and blew on it to cool it before taking a bite.
Chocolate and ginger burst on his tongue and he moaned, closing his eyes and slumping against the counter. It was absolutely delicious.
He wondered where Harper was as he made his way to the fridge and pulled out a beer, flipping off the top. He grabbed another cookie, taking it and his beer to the deck.
She was sitting on the steps that led down to the grassy lawn, the last of the afternoon sunlight lighting her honey blonde hair in golden hues. From where Logan was standing, he could see her in profile, the guitar balanced on one knee, the strap around her neck. She had a pen gripped between her teeth as she carefully picked at the instrument.
Muttered curses accompanied the strumming, and Logan’s lips twitched. With the pen in her teeth it sounded more like ‘thuck’.
Logan took a swig of his beer. He trod softly on the boards of the deck and dropped down on the step next to her. She froze, hands immediately stilling on the strings and stiffened.
“Did you want me to leave?”
She shot a glance at him with wide eyes and took the pen out of her mouth. “No, not at all. I need to take a break anyway.”
Logan lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been at it for hours, haven’t you?”
She sighed, slipping the guitar’s strap from her shoulder and placing the instrument on the decking behind her. One of the notebooks lay next to her, scribbled notes on the page, the cover turned backwards underneath the book.
Harper saw what he was looking at and flipped the book over, hiding her work.
She doesn’t trust me.
The thought hurt, but how could he expect her to? They’d known each other so short a time. He turned away and took another swig of his beer, staring out across the waters of the small cove.
You trust her.
That was true. But not everyone was the same. She’d learned the hard way—and recently—that not everyone was to be trusted. Logan wondered how often that lesson had been drilled into her by her father.
He didn’t even know the man and yet Logan already had a lot to say to him.
“Is that one of my cookies?” She asked, looking pointedly at the baked item in his hand.
Logan grinned and took a bite. “Mmmhmmm.”
“That good, huh?”
The smile on her face was something Logan would do almost anything to keep there. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to work hard. It was that he had seen so little of her smiling, and he’d do what he could to keep her that way.
She deserved a little happiness.
She deserved a lot of happiness.
Logan finished the cookie and moaned in appreciation, not missing the glances Harper slid his way.
“They’re good cookies.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How many have you had?”
Logan laughed and lifted his hands into the air in surrender. “I plead the fifth.”
Harper laughed and looked out across the water, her features now cast in shadows.
She was so beautiful he found it hard to breathe. Hard to look away from her. But he did.
Logan managed to not notice the curve of her hips under the stretchy leggings that she had changed into.
He also managed to not notice the dip of her top that showed the tops of her breasts.
He also—and gave himself a pat on the back—managed to not think all the thoughts about what he would like to do with Harper if she was ever in his arms for more than just a comforting hug.
He shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden step.
Well, maybe he didn’t quite manage to not think about that.
“It’s beautiful.” There was a wistful note in her voice.
“Yeah,” Logan agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the water.
Harper sighed and rested her head on her hand with her elbows on her knees.
“Any luck?” He nodded toward the guitar. Logan took another swig of beer, mostly because he didn’t want to do something so stupid as reach out to touch her.
She shook her head mournfully. “It’s useless. I can’t do this on my own. I need Isla.”
“Did you try her again?”
“Yeah, a few times. I left a voicemail.” She sounded so sad, her voice small as she mumbled into the palm of her hand.
“Want a beer?”
She lifted her head. “You know, I think I do.”
Logan swallowed the remainder of his and went back into the house to grab them both a bottle of IPA from Wilde Brews I’ll sing.”