Page 34 of Three Hearts Hideaway

She liked to watch. She wanted to be watched. A little voyeuristic fantasy mixed with exhibitionist tendencies. He had no trouble getting on board with that.

Eventually, he’d have to tell her he listened to part of the message. Not before he made his case to her, though. And notbefore he had a chance to fuck any negative thoughts about him right out of her head.

He could be civilized.

He could be…nice.

He hadn’t always been such a stony bastard. Vague memories of being an excitable, friendly young boy came to mind. Sure, he had been a kid, but the memories were there.

When his dad lost their money and left, he’d been eight years old. All he knew was that his mom needed to get another job, so he saw less of her, and his dad wasn’t living with them anymore. Months of therapy told him it was normal for him to think he was at fault, even though he wasn’t. But Logan wasn’t great at therapy—what eight-year-old was?—and the lesson never quite stuck.

He’d spent most of his youth trying to win his father’s love. If he tried hard enough, got good enough grades, played the right sports, said the right things, his dad would finally say that he loved him. But his dad’s visits and calls became less frequent. Soon he only saw his good-for-nothing dad for a few hours on his birthday or at Christmas, if he was lucky.

Hitting the slots was more important. Losing one more round of blackjack was more important. Taking out another advance on another credit card was more important.

Eventually, his mother shared with him that his dad had a new wife and step-children. Logan and his mom weren’t a priority. Not that they had been for a while. He remembered not feeling angry or upset. Rather, he pitied the new family who now had to deal with his gambling addiction and credit card debt.

The year his father forgot to show for his sixteenth birthday was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. He should have closed the casket and buried it long before that day. But kids are kids, and they have hope.

From that day on, it became easier to guard himself from people. If no one came into his life, then no one had to leave. A simple solution to a complex problem. It wasn’t until a decade later that Logan realized how shitty his dad also treated his mother.

Now, twenty years later, he continued to cling on to his simple solution of being an asshole and pushing people away.

He had an inkling that this wasn’t working with Ava. Okay, more than an inkling. But it had been years since he let anyone new in.

The front door clicking open and closed grabbed his attention and brought him out of the pity party in his head. Ava was a fucking snack. Short, flowy skirt. Tight, cropped sweater. Not the best attire for riding on the back of his bike, but he wasn’t going to ask her to change. Not when she looked like that. He watched as she scanned the yard, searching. When her gaze landed on him, leaning against his motorbike with an extra helmet propped on the seat, her eyebrows shot up.

“Not afraid of getting on this thing, are you?” he teased, patting the helmet for good measure.

Her posture stiffened a fraction. “Not at all.”

He stifled the laugh bubbling up in his throat as she walked over to him, hesitation in each step. “I’m a safe driver, I promise. Roman wouldn’t let you ride with me if I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.”

“It is.” He handed her the lid and dug a spare leather jacket out of his bike’s back compartment. “Put this on too.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as she put on the helmet and jacket.

“You’ll see.” He straddled the bike and motioned to the pillion seat behind him. “Get on.” He owed Roman a fucking hugethank youfor convincing Ava to go with him today.

She awkwardly climbed on behind him, like she was trying not to touch him. Stumbling, she fell against him, one arm bracing herself against his hip.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

He bet if he could see her face under the helmet, it would be bright red. A chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to hold on tight, anyway. May as well start now.”

Ava settled behind him and hesitantly placed her arms around his torso. He drew her close. The heat of her body radiated up his spine. She was the hottest cling-on he’d ever had on his bike. Her skirt rode up, and the press of her pussy against him was almost enough to do him in. Cancel this stupid bike ride, take her inside, and beg her to let him fuck her six ways from Sunday. But that’s not what she needed.

She needed to see he was a good guy.

He could be trusted.

He could satisfy her.

He could not be an asshole. Maybe.

The backroads behind the bed and breakfast were long, winding, and scenic. Ava’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close, made him feel more invincible. It felt right having her snug against him on the back of his ride.

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