Page 74 of Whenever You Call

Cole’s legacy could go to Hell.

With a few cars already beginning to line up on the street, Livia and I had only one choice left to us. Bella would stay at Livia’s tonight, and if I could, I’d try and persuade Logan to take me away from the house in one of our cars.

I was thankful he didn’t take any persuading.

The three of us—Livia, Logan, and me—had bundled Bella off with nothing but smiles on our faces, promising her an exciting sleepover of ice cream, popcorn, movies galore, and all the sugar donuts she could suffer. Before she’d slipped out of the door, I’d pulled her into my arms and held onto her like my whole life depended on it.

And it did.

Without her, I had nothing to live for.

The very thought had my eyes drifting to the man beside me, who wore a black cap and dark shades as he sat in the driver’s seat of another SUV we had stored in the back of one of the garages. It had impenetrable blacked-out windows, but Logan had the idea to put all the windows down and have me lying in the footwell behind the driver’s seats, letting the photographers see he was a nobody they didn’t even recognize, and the car held no precious cargo inside for them to try and chase when we pulled out of the driveway.

It worked.

As soon as we were clear, I climbed into the front seat and sat beside him, watching as the muscles along his jaw twitched and his forearm tensed at the wheel. Logan had always radiated nothing but kindness, but right then, he radiated quiet anger and a sturdy power that I couldn’t look away from.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“My place.” He glanced my way, and I wished that he’d remove those dark shades so I could see his comforting eyes for just a moment, needing that connection with someone real. “That okay?” he asked.

“I don’t care where we go as long as I’m with you,” I told him, choosing nothing but honesty from now on. “Is that okay?”

“Whatever you need from me, it’s yours.”

He turned his attention back to the road, but every time I stole a quick glance at him, I saw the tension in his strong jawline. His muscles twitched, and his fingers constantly tightened around the wheel.

We eventually drove into the more urban area of Van Nuys, passing far too many coffee shops, as well as several parks along the way. I sank back into the passenger seat, grateful for a view that wasn’t Beverly Hills. When he pulled the black SUV into a downturned driveway, it rolled under a white carport, disappearing into a dark enough space for us to climb out and not be seen. He didn’t look at me before he got out of the driver’s side, but he soon opened my door to help me out. I hopped down into his strong hands, sucking in a breath when he caught me by the waist.

Heat rose in places it shouldn’t.

I wished I could have seen his eyes to see if he responded the same way, but those stupid shades and that black cap I’d convinced him to wear hid him and his reactions almost completely.

He took me by the hand and led me to a white door, where he pressed some numbers on the keypad. A moment later, we were buzzed in. We made our way up some stairs, until we came to another door at the end of a second corridor. Logan stopped to open it, holding it there for me to walk inside before him, removing his shades and hat as he did. I caught his eyes now, finally, and I saw the trepidation he tried to hide at having me in his home.

I stopped, just inches away from his face. “This is your private space. Why do I suddenly feel like I’m intruding?”

“Stop it, Hannah.”

“But—”

“I want you here. That’s where it begins, and that’s where it ends.”

Those words were enough to make me step into his room that held everything in one space, apart from the bathroom, including a small open plan kitchen to the right, with a double bed, small couch, and a television to the left.

“I hope you don’t feel the need for too much privacy while you’re here,” he said, walking in behind me and letting the door shut behind us. “It’s… compact.”

“I like compact.”

“Good job.”

“And there’s always the bathroom for me to hide if you becomethatannoying,” I teased.

“To the left, through that door.” He tossed his keys on the small kitchen island that you could walk all the way around without taking twenty steps. But the size didn’t matter, not when I could smell nothing but Logan here. I wasn’t very good with cologne ingredients. I couldn’t tell you what sandalwood, rosewood, or patchouli smelled like on their own, but I could tell you when a man smelled clean—the kind of clean a woman wanted to bathe in, unable to get the scent deep enough inside her body. When it was more than just soap or shower gel. More than musk and spicy flavors.

Whatever Logan’s scent was, I wanted to bottle it up and take some home to open up and smell when he wasn’t there.

“There’s not much to do here, but it’s an escape. Somewhere you can lay your head, get some rest, maybe watch some TV.” He studied me like he had something more to say. Maybe too much.

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