Page 60 of Mine to Love

A few minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of the restaurant. Logan leaves his laptop in his car, but I can hear the constant vibrating of his phone while we wait for our table. Every time he receives a message, his shoulders slump lower and lower.

After the waitress leaves us, I point to his phone, turned upside down, on the table. “You can answer that if you want.”

“I don’t want to be rude.”

“It’s not like we’re on a—” Yeah. Not a good idea to go there. The day had gone so well without the elephant rearing its ugly head.

“My phone never stops ringing lately.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I am.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You have. You are. You really did a great job today. Knowing I didn’t have to worry about the Odyssey deal was a huge load off my shoulders. You knocked it out of the park. Vincent was impressed. Especially Spencer.”

Is that a trace of jealousy in his voice?

His phone vibrates again. “Don’t leave Doug hanging.”

“I wish. Doug, I can handle. It’s all the other shit—sorry.”

“No apology necessary. Can Melinda take some of the work off your plate?”

“I’ve already asked so much from her. Once the transfer is done, things will settle.”

“Transfer?” I have no right to ask about his business or his personal life.

Logan nods and picks up his phone. “I’m not going to answer the calls, but I need to respond to a few emails while we wait for dinner. Is that okay?”

“I already said it was. Don’t worry about me. I’d be sitting here alone if you hadn’t tagged along anyway.”

Once again, I’m ignored for the phone, although he’d been polite and regretful about it. It continues to ring in his hands and every time he let out a tired sigh.

“Answer it or turn it off, whichever will make you feel better.”

He closes his eyes and bring his phone to his ear. “Good evening, Charles.” Logan mouths an apology and stands.

I hand him my car keys and whisper, “If you want privacy.”

He covers the phone with his palm. “Thank you.” He takes the keys and starts for the exit. “I’m here, Charles. What can I do for you?”

If Logan hadn’t bummed a ride I’d be eating alone anyway, I remind herself. When minutes tick by, and the waitress delivers our food with still no sign of Logan, I pick up my fork and eat a bite of pasta.

It’s delicious, and I’m starving. I set my fork down and finish my water, still waiting for him. When the steam dissipates from our food and it errs on the cool side, I give up waiting and eat my dinner alone.

I practically lick my plate clean, and his chicken marsala still sits across from me, untouched. The waitress comes back and points at Logan’s plate. “Do you want me to box that up for you?”

“Sure. That would be great.” I hand my credit card to the waitress. “We’re all done. Thank you.”

I use the restroom while the waitress takes care of the bill and pick up Logan’s dinner before going out to the car. I hold out the takeout container to Logan in the passenger seat and then pause. His head is tipped back against the headrest, his eyes closed, and his mouth hangs open in deep sleep.

His computer is open on his lap, the cell phone clutched in his left hand.

Poor guy. I set his food in the backseat and start the car, lowering the music. The final ninety minutes of the drive are as quiet as the first four hours, only this time I’m not annoyed with Logan’s silence. The man works too much, no one can argue with that. He’s respected and well-liked, and I can’t find fault with him for wanting to keep business and pleasure separate.

Logan is the kind of man who doesn’t have time for relationships. Heck. He doesn’t have time to eat. And he doesn’t like complications. I have to respect that. However, I really like the sexy, naked, animalistic Logan who ravaged me in my hotel room in Austin.

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