Page 20 of The Write Off

“Not that I’m aware,” she replies. “Can I assume from the change in your demeanor that Logan is okay and that you’ve kissed and made up?”

“Too far, St. Claire.” I scowl to hide the heat on my face. A picture forms in my mind of Logan’s broad form towering over me. He pins my hips against his desk as he inches towards me, slowly. Just before his mouth touches mine he says my name, like a prayer whispered in the dark.

“Rilla.”

I’m back in my kitchen, my friends looking at me expectantly. It was Betty who’d said my name, although I’m not sure how long she’s been trying to get my attention. Instead of admitting I wasn’t paying attention, I chose one of the sharpest tools from my arsenal: Deflection.

“Why are you two here? Have you finally decided to leave your men and move back in? I mean it, come on. We could be The Three Amigos. The Three Musketeers. The Golden Girls, but with better bone density.”

Maggie laughs. “Since you mention it–”

A knock at the door cuts her off.

“That must be your golden boys now,” I say, padding with bare feet across the hardwood floors to welcome my brother and Callum. Reaching the door, I pull it open with a flourish asking, “Since when do you knock?”

Dark amber eyes meet mine, surprise flashing in them. “Given the nature of our relationship, I assumed it was the appropriate thing to do,” Logan replies.

Chapter 10

Logan

“What are you doing here?”

Great question.

Do I tell her that I tossed and turned all night, consumed by the fact she never received my message? That I paced my kitchen for more than an hour after Shannon picked up Travis and Anna, waiting for it to be an appropriate time to call? That after running every possible scenario and their outcomes, I decided that the best course of action was to show up at her door, unannounced, so we can deal with the misunderstanding. Just rip the bandaid off and start fresh?

That’s too honest, even for me.

I decide to approach this the way I expect Rilla would. Attempt a joke and hope for the best.

“I’m here for our meeting. You know what they say; better fifteen hours late than never.”

She laughs. It’s a pleasant laugh; light and carefree. Her curls bounce as she shakes her head and I take her in for the first time. There is a small pillow-crease on her left cheek, as though she’s just rolled out of bed even though it’s after noon. Her light purple tank top, while not low cut, is painted on, making me painfully aware of her lack of a bra. Torn jeans hug her long legs and bare toes complete the look.

“Stunning.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but I exhaled and it came out anyway. Her brown eyes widen and I clear my throat, looking anywhere but at her. “The architecture in these older apartments is stunning.” My eyes study the hardwood floor thinking now would be a good time for it to swallow me whole.

Rilla steps forward to join me in the hallway, closing the door behind her. I get a faint smell of coffee and that sweet scent I still can’t identify.

“I’m very sorry for standing you up.” We both straighten, the implication it had been a date hanging heavy in the air. “What I meant to say is I’m sorry that I didn’t show up. I had drafted you a text yesterday evening, but–”

“It did not send due to an error on your part. Yes, I listened to your message. It’s fine.”

“It is?”

“Of course.” Her slight shoulders shrug like my absence was barely noticed. “You really didn’t need to drop in. I was going to reach out and reschedule.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. My professional relationship with this woman has been so tenuous from day one, I was legitimately concerned this would undo any progress we’ve made.

“I have some time now, if you’d like to talk about how things are going with your revisions.”

She spares a brief glance at her apartment door, before shrugging again and dropping down to sit on the hallway floor.

“You don’t want to go inside?”

“Nah,” she says looking up at me with a smirk. “I operate under a sort of Buffy the Vampire Slayer code of conduct. You can’t come in uninvited.”

I nod slowly, as if what she’s just said makes sense and isn’t completely ridiculous. She gazes up at me expectantly and I force myself to keep my focus on her face despite the fact that I can now see down her top. The valley between her breasts looks warm and inviting.

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