Page 9 of Because of Logan

I take another step forward. It’s finally my turn.

“Good morning, Skye. What can I get you today?”

Pat asks me with her big momma smile. Her brown hair is always in a ponytail. She has one of those faces that’s impossible to tell the age, but if I had to guess, I’d say she’s in her mid-fifties. The crinkles around her eyes are proof of someone who smiles and laughs often. Pat wears her happiness in the wrinkles of her face with pride.

I eye the goodies behind the glass and decide to be bad. I need a pick-me-up after the last couple of days.

“A red velvet muffin and a chocolate cappuccino, please.” It’s not so much a muffin as a giant cupcake covered in cream cheese icing, and it’s just what I need right now. I pay for it and step to the side, waiting for the barista to make my cup of heaven as Pat takes the person behind me. Then I hear a voice I never thought I’d hear again and shiver.

This time, it has nothing to do with the cold.

Chapter Four

I’m crossingthe street when I see Skye walk into Pat’s Cafe. If I’d planned to meet her there, it couldn’t have been more perfect. She doesn’t see me walk in right behind her. She’s completely distracted, and I take advantage of it to study her, letting my gaze drift over her small figure. I take in the long blond hair falling down her back and the way the ends curl in different directions, my eyes lingering on the curve of her ass in those tight pants she’s wearing. She moves forward and I step closer. Her scent fills me with longing. She smells like orange blossom flowers—the scent of my childhood and teen years.

Grandpa loved Vermont and the cold. Grandma loved summer and the heat. They compromised, traveling back and forth between Vermont and Florida, always making sure to be around whenever my brother Liam and I didn’t have school. We spent every school break and vacation with them. Every summer, Liam and I would fly down to Florida where we spent weeks on end with our grandparents. Grandma loved to garden, and she had several orange trees in the large back yard. The fragrance of orange blossoms hung in the humid, warm night air like a thick blanket. It’s been a couple of years since I made my way down south. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I caught my favorite smell on Skye.

Pat’s voice brings me back from memory lane.

“Hey, hon, good to see you here today. You got the morning off?”

I answer Pat, but my eyes are fixed on Skye. She turns as soon as I speak. A look of surprise comes over her face as her cheeks pinken in that way I’m getting used to.

“Yeah, I worked a late shift last night.”

“What can I get you, Logan?”

I glance at Pat then, and she’s watching me with eyes that miss nothing. She’s already doing the math in her head as her eyes move between Skye and me. Pat has clearly missed her calling. She should have been a detective. Just one glance from Pat, and I feel the need to confess all my sins and beg for forgiveness. I think of her poor kids growing up under that stare and shudder.

It takes me a second to get my bearings again, and I make it appear as if I’m thinking, but I can tell by the twinkle in Pat’s eyes that she knows better.

“What do you suggest, Pat? Do you have my favorite?” I ask, trying to buy time.

Pat snorts at that—yeah, I’m so busted—and goes to the glass case to get the pastries I’m addicted to. I very well know she always has them. I stop by almost every day to get a to-go coffee and something to eat.

I pay for it, place the small plate with the sweets on top of my coffee mug, and take a step closer to Skye, who’s still frozen in place.

The barista is trying to get her attention, but her eyes are locked on mine, and as I get closer, her head tilts up, still looking at me. I’m about a foot taller than her. I reach around her, brushing her shoulder with my chest, my face inches away, her eyes never leaving mine. She takes a quick breath in and holds it. With my free hand, I grab the drink she ordered, take a small step back, and nod back at the counter.

“Is that yours?”

She blinks and looks over to her side, breaking the connection as she grabs a plate with the muffin.

“Yes, thank you.”

I search for an empty table and find a small one in the corner near the window. Taking her mug hostage with me, I nod toward the table and hope she’ll follow me. She does.

Skye sits with her back to the large window. The still weak sun filtering through the morning haze shines over her head, making her hair even more golden. I’m mesmerized by the way the sunlight plays on her hair, trickles around her small frame, and glows around her. An unfamiliar ache in my chest has me questioning my sanity. What is it about this girl that has me so attracted to her? She’s cute, but not in an overt way. Certainly not as beautiful as the women I’ve been with before. Skye has a certain vulnerability about her that speaks to my hardened soul. I’m intrigued, and I can’t remember the last time anything had me this eager to figure out. I need to understand what it is about her that fascinates me so I can control it. She challenges me without even knowing it.

It’s just lust, I tell myself. It’s been a while. I push all the questions away, and an unbidden fantasy of what I’d like to do to her if I had a chance takes me by surprise.

I want to wrap those golden locks around my wrist as I tug her head back and nibble on her neck, working my way up to those full lips that are begging me to bite, lick, and suck on, and then reverse my path and work my way south.

Jesus!

I shift in the chair, trying to release the pressure building inside my jeans and shake off the dangerous track my thoughts are trying to lead me on. I’m sitting across from Skye—a small table between us—and the space underneath is not enough to contain my long legs. Her knees brush against mine and it sends a shiver up my spine. I get harder. Fuck! My dick is acting like I’m fifteen again.

Her eyes rove over me, taking in my gray hoodie, and I can almost hear all the questions swirling in her head.

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