Page 50 of In Too Deep

The New Orleans Mystic has received several offers, and we are considering each carefully. At this time, no steps have been taken to engage in formal negotiations over any specific players.

Hope this helps.

After hitting send, I close my laptop, ready to call it a day and go home to unwind. Spencer and Eli need to be at the arena early tomorrow, which means Oli has to drive them, so I’ll be returning to my own bed, which sounds amazing. But as I’m packing up, my phone pings. I toss my hair over my shoulder,my guard already up. I doubt Gideon would text over this, but I’m ready to finish a fight if he chooses to start one. But my shoulders relax almost instantly and a smile creeps up my cheeks as I read the name.

Logan

My afternoon meetings got canceled. Mind if I stop by yours tonight?

You absolutely can. Eat in or take-out?

How about eating out?

Oh you mean for dinner...

I’ll bring something with me.

My cheeks heat as my heart flutters. Logan and I haven’t been alone together since I worked in his office before the All-Star break. Mostly out of an abundance of caution, but also partially out of respect for the rest of my alphas. The prospect of blowing off steam after what I’ve been through today sounds perfect.

I’m barely able toget home and tidy up the few stray dirty clothes from my bedroom floor before there’s a knock on my door. I haven’t even changed out of my pencil skirt and blouse from work, though I’d kicked off my heels the moment I’d walked through my door. I scurry to the front door, a little out of breath as I pull it open, my face breaking out in a bright smile as I see the massive alpha on the other side.

Logan’s smile should be illegal, the way it makes his green eyes spark and those tiny dimples pop... My pussy is already pulsing and he’s just barely crossed the threshold.

As he steps past me, I note the grocery bags in one hand, the other loosely holding the cardboard handle of a six-pack of Abita beer. He glances around as I shut and lock the door, and I circle around him, shamelessly admiring the curve of his ass in his tight slacks.

“I can put those in the fridge?” I offer, holding out my hand for the beer.

Logan’s eyes snap back to my face, and his smile softens. “Sure. I’ll take one to drink while we’re cooking,” he says as he passes the beer to me.

I furrow my brow at him as I turn and head toward the kitchen. Logan pauses to toe off his shoes before following, setting his bags onto the island counter and unpacking ingredients. I pull one of the glass bottles out of its slot, then close the fridge, using the opener attached to the wall between the side of the fridge and the garage door.

“You put that in?” Logan asks, nodding to the device as I hand him the open beer.

I chuckle. “It actually came with the house. But it’s too convenient to take down.”

He laughs and takes a sip of his beer, setting it down beside the groceries. Leaning against the cabinets beside the sink, I glance over the spread and try to puzzle it out. Salt potatoes, asparagus, a lemon, some sort of meat wrapped in brown butcher paper.

“Got any guesses?” Logan asks, pulling my attention to his face.

I give him a shy smile. “Not a clue,” I reply with a little giggle.

Logan doesn’t answer, instead turning around to unwrap the protein. I jump as I realize it’s a whole fish, head and all. I look back at him in alarm and find he’s grinning.

“As long as you’ve got a sheet pan, I can whip us up a wicked good dinner,” he says, a little of his Boston accent coming forward.

I’m not sure what to make of the fish sitting on my counter. But I blink and then jump as I realize Logan has crossed the distance between us, and is leaning in, his arms braced on the counter on either side of me. This close, his spicy apple ciderscent scrambles my brain, and my tongue seems to grow to three times its normal size.

“This all right, baby girl? We don’t have to eat Jerry if you’re not feeling fish,” he says, genuine concern in his tone.

My brain latches onto the first coherent thought and spits it out. “You named the fish? Even though you’re gonna cook him?”

Logan laughs with his whole body, leaning back and clutching at his stomach. I’m still frozen and confused, but I forget all about that as one of Logan’s massive hands wraps around the back of my neck and pulls me into a mind-melting kiss. There’s a hint of hops on his lips, but the rest is spicy apple cider, strong enough to make my head spin. I sway a little when Logan pulls away, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

“God, you’re so beautiful. If I couldn’t hear your stomach growling, I’d skip dinner and have my dessert now,” he mutters, like he’s speaking more to himself than to me.

As soon as I open my mouth to tell him that dinner can wait, my belly twists and lets out a loud snarl of protest, a swift underline of his point. I blush and turn my gaze elsewhere, which makes him chuckle.

“I’ve got you, baby girl,” Logan purrs, kissing me gently along my hairline before pulling away.

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