Page 94 of Mine to Love

“Asshole.” Holden tosses his cards and stands. “We should get going as well.”

“If you guys are leaving too, I can bring Reese home.”

“No.” I covered my hand over his without looking up at him. “It’s out of your way. I don’t want you to miss your flight.”

“It’s five minutes out of my way. Not a problem.” He squeezes my hands and drops a kiss to the top of my head.

Not a problem because he owes me, not because he loves me.

“Five minutes until you turn a goodbye kiss into a hot and heavy make out session and miss your flight,” Cami teases.

“That’s true.” Reese stands. “You’re running on a tight schedule as it is.”

Logan squints in confusion then nods. “Okay. Walk me to the door?” He threads his fingers through mine and leads me to the front door. “Are you okay?”

He brushes his knuckles down my cheek and I shiver. It brings a smile to his lips, only because he interprets it as turning me on. “Tired. Lots of meetings scheduled this week, which I’m sure are nothing compared to your workload.”

“Somehow I forget about all of that when I’m with you.” He lowers his mouth to mine, and I receive the kiss.

His lips are always soft, his tongue gentle unless we’re in the heat of the moment. Logan is a phenomenal kisser, always knowing when to press for more and when to keep it soft and simple. He tastes like the chocolate brownies we had for dessert.

Damn him for ruining everything. Damn my weakness for believing in love. I sniff and end the kiss. “You’re going to miss your flight.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing, spending another night with you.”

“I’ll see you Friday.”

The space between his brows shortens, and then he nods. “Okay.” He places a quick kiss on my lips and leaves. So much for keeping things normal.

***

I’VE BEEN WORKING OVERTIME to keep up with my conference calls, meet with my clients, and do a little digging. I feel bad about canceling my lunch date with Emerson, but I’m in no mood to talk about my relationship status with Logan. Instead, I meet with Warren on Monday during my lunch break.

“How many people did you recommend to Mr. Pierce for the job?” I ask as soon as we get the formalities out of the way. How’s the family? Do you like your new job? When is retirement?

“Just you.” Warren leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Why do you ask?”

“Curious is all. I mean, I wasn’t even qualified.”

“That’s the funny thing.” He steeples his fingers in front of him. “He made it clear he wasn’t looking for experience. He wanted intelligence. Grit. Work ethic. All words I had used to describe you when I’d questioned your move back to the teller position.”

I stay longer than I wanted, turning the focus of the conversation to the weather and his grandkids. The last thing I want is for Warren to check in with Logan and ask about me. Better to leave suspicion at bay.

On Tuesday night, after back-to-back meetings with clients, I stop at my father’s for dinner. This time, I don’t beat around the bush.

“What did you tell Logan at Emerson’s wedding?” I don’t even let him take a bite of his lemon chicken before drilling him.

“At her wedding? That was a long time ago.” He slices a small chunk of meat off the bone and brings it to his mouth. A typical Johnny Elliot delay tactic. When he finishes chewing, he sips water and picks up his fork and knife again.

The stall confirms my suspicions.

“You talked to him about me.”

“I talk to everyone about you. I love you.”

“Dad.”

He sets down his fork and knife and casts a glance at Mariah, who’s been quietly listening. “I told him about MIT and your mother and sister. I told him how you sacrificed nearly a decade of your life to take care of me, and how my dream was for you to find someone to take care of you.”

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