Page 61 of The Cutting Edge
He presses a swift kiss to my forehead. “Rain check?”
“Definitely.” I lace my fingers through his, and we walk over the sand to catch up with Poppy. She’s already splashing in the surf, her laughter carrying on the breeze.
We spend the afternoon playing at the edge of the water, building sandcastles, and searching for seashells. Logan and I steal kisses when Poppy isn’t looking, barely able to keep our hands off each other. The sun sinks lower in the sky, gilding the waves with amber and rose.
Exhausted, Poppy collapses on her beach towel. “That was the best day ever!” She yawns, eyes drifting shut.
“It really was,” I say softly. Logan wraps an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into his side.
Late in the afternoon, we pile into Logan's SUV for the drive back to my house. Poppy promptly falls asleep in the backseat, sandy feet and all.
Logan reaches over to lace his fingers through mine. "Did you have a good time today?"
"The best." I gaze out the window at the passing scenery, a content smile on my lips. "Thank you for including me. It means a lot."
The drive ends too quickly. Before I know it, we're pulling up in front of my place. Logan does a double-take as he pulls into the driveway. “Is this…”
“Yes,” I answer before he finishes, “Marissa and I live in Mrs. Markham’s guest cottage out back.”
Logan nods with understanding. He pulls my suitcase and gift bags out of the back of his SUV and walks me down the pathway to my front door. Poppy’s still passed out in her booster seat.
He lingers on the porch, a palpable energy between us. He glances over at me, "So, Coco… do you want to come to the practice rink with me tomorrow before I fly out? I'd really love to spend more time with you before I have to leave tomorrow night."
My heart flutters with excitement at the invitation. "I'd love to." Plus, it seems like it might be easier to bring Logan luck if I'm nearby. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Coach Rocco said my job as a lucky charm is to just do whatever I was doing before. So basically, my job description is lusting over an NHL hockey player, and regularly giving him crap. Best. Job. Ever.
"Great." His smile lights up his eyes. "I'll see you at ten. The guys have been asking about you, since the night of the...uh...puck. Everybody’s excited to finally meet my girl."
"Your girl, huh?" I tease, warmth flooding my cheeks.
"If you'll have me." Logan reaches over to squeeze my hand. "I know this is moving fast, but it feels right. Doesn’t it?”
My throat tightens with emotion. "I know what you mean."
"Good." He kisses my knuckles. "Because you might just be stuck with me now, Coco."
I've spent my whole life fighting for control, but when I'm with Logan, I want nothing more than to lose myself in the joy and wonder of whatever's happening between us. And that terrifies and excites me all at once.
"We should probably head home before Poppy wakes up," Logan says with a reluctant sigh. "But I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay." I smile, warmth flooding my veins.
"Goodnight, Coco." He leans down to kiss me softly.
I close my eyes, relishing the warmth of his lips on mine, still hungry for more. "Goodnight Logan."
Chapter twenty-four
Coco
Itwirlinfrontof the mirror, scrutinizing my outfit. Skinny jeans that make my legs look a mile long, a pale pink off-the-shoulder top, and silvery flats. Casual but cute. Hopefully cute enough.
Checking myself over in the mirror it hits me, “Shit, should I be wearing green?”
“I think that’s a little too on the nose,” answers Marissa from the other room. “I think you’re also safe to avoid anything with a four-leaf clover or leprechaun print.”
My fingers flutter to my hair, smoothing flyaways and tucking loose strands behind my ears. I pack a bag with snacks, my Kindle, fuzzy flamingo slippers because I always get cold, a pale pink cashmere duster, and a soft blanket. Overpacking? Probably. But I’ve spent my life in rinks and I’d rather be over-prepared than under. And warm. I'd always rather bewarm.
Logan’s practice starts in an hour and my stomach flips with nerves. And not just because the rink still gives me anxiety after The Incident.
