Page 73 of Mine to Love

CHAPTER NINETEEN

For five weeks, nothing changed, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Logan flies to Texas on Sunday nights or early Monday mornings and is back in Maine during the day on Friday. The one day a week we are in the office together, he is one hundred percent professional.

Logan wasn’t kidding around when he said he doesn’t mix business with pleasure. He’s never surly or rude, and he never flirts or teases. To anyone looking in, they’d have absolutely no idea he’s seen, touched, and kissed every centimeter of my body.

But when he steps into my apartment Friday night after work, the suit and all the personality that go along with it, are shed at the door. We don’t talk about work outside of the office, and we don’t hint at our chemistry inside the office.

It works. Sort of. Maybe for Logan. For me, it makes the tension build to a combustible level so by the time we make it to my apartment, I can’t help but claw at him, rarely making it to the bedroom. Logan doesn’t seem to mind and is an equal contributor to the clawing.

Other than a few walks along the beach or the trails through Acadia Falls Park, we stay in my apartment, which is fine with me.

This morning after making love and sharing a breakfast of French toast, Logan leaves my bed for the office to get a little work in before heading to his parents for a family Sunday dinner. Emerson invited, me, my dad, and Mariah to come over as well.

Since Mariah and my dad already had plans with her daughter, I contemplated turning down the invitation as well.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Emerson whines on the other end of the phone.

“We had lunch Tuesday.”

“Okay, we’ve done lunch dates, but your weekends have been busy with work.”

Work. That’s what I told Emerson the few times she asked if I wanted to hang out. Standing my best friend up for a guy—a guy I haven’t mentioned to said best friend yet—feels dubious and cruel, but Logan and I haven’t talked about how to classify our relationship.

We haven’t even gone out in public yet, except for a few private walks. If he told his brothers about us, Emerson would know and would read me the riot act for holding out. If Logan isn’t talking about us, neither will I.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Seriously, peanut butter cup. I thought you’d be over this by now. The Pierce family adores you. And now that her brothers are paired up, Cami is sad and alone. She needs you.”

I almost drop my phone. The French toast from this morning curdles in my stomach. “Logan has a girlfriend?”

How in the world could he squeeze in another woman? He stretched himself thin before we started...spending time together. Unless his time in Texas isn’t all work, like his time in Maine hasn’t been either.

“Logan?” Emerson snorts. “He’s married to his work. Always on his phone and distant, so he doesn’t count. Cami needs you. And I need you for when Holden goes off with the boys and plays horseshoes and tries to show off.”

“Oh, so I’m sloppy seconds,” I tease.

“You look good in a bathing suit, but watching my husband strip down makes me—”

“Blah, blah, blah. No need for TMI.” My phone buzzes, signaling a text message from Cami.

Cami: Family dinner tonight. Your presence is requested. Scratch that. Demanded. Be my side-hustle?

“Dinner’s at five. We’ll be there at four for cocktails and corn hole.”

“Cami just texted. I guess I’ll go.”

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