Page 99 of What Matters Most

“My girlfriend is walking beside me,” Logan said. “What’s gotten into you lately?”

Abby sighed. “Don’t tell me we’re going over all of that again?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She ran onto the field, shouting for Dick to pitch her the ball.

The game went smoothly. Patty basked in the attention everyone was giving her and had the team sign her cast. Abby readily agreed to add her own comment, eager to see what Logan had written on the plaster. But she couldn’t locate it without being obvious. Maybe he’d done that on purpose. Maybe he’d written Patty a sweet message on the underside of her arm, where no one else could read it. The thought was so ridiculous that Abby almost laughed out loud.

They lost the game by a slim margin, and Abby realized she hadn’t been much help. During the get-together at the pizza place afterward she listened to the others joke and laugh. She wanted to join in, but tonight she simply didn’t feel like partying.

“Are you feeling all right?” Logan sat beside her, holding her hand. He studied her with worried eyes.

“I’m fine,” she answered, and managed a half-hearted smile. “But I’m a little tired. Would you mind taking me home?”

“Not at all.”

They got up and, with Logan’s hand at the small of her back, they made their excuses and left.

The silence in the car was deafening, but Abby did her best to ignore the unspoken questions Logan was sending her way.

“How about if I cook dinner tomorrow?” Abby said brightly. “I’ve been terrible tonight and I want to make it up to you.”

“If you’re not feeling well, maybe you should wait.”

“I’m fine. Just don’t expect anything more complicated than hot dogs on a bun.” She was teasing and Logan knew it.

He parked outside her building and kissed her gently. Abby held on to him compulsively, as if she couldn’t bear to let him go. She felt caught in a game of cat and mouse between Tate and Logan—a game in which she was quickly becoming the loser.

—

The following evening, Abby was putting the finishing touches on a salad when Logan came over.

“Surprise,” he said as he held out a small bouquet of flowers. “Is this more original than perfume?” he asked with laughing eyes.

“Hardly.” She gave him a soft brushing kiss across his freshly shaven cheek as she took the carnations from his hand. “Mmm, you smell good.”

Logan picked a tomato slice out of the salad and popped it into his mouth. “So do you.”

“Well, if you don’t like the fragrance, you have only yourself to blame.”

“Me? You smell like pork chops.” He slipped his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled her neck. “You know I could get used to having dinner with you every single night.” The teasing quality left his eyes.

Abby dropped her gaze as her heart went skyrocketing into space. She knew what he was saying. The question had entered her mind several times during the past few days. These feelings they were experiencing were the kind to last a lifetime. Abby wanted to share Logan’s life. The desire to wake up with him at her side every morning, to marry him and have his children, was stronger than any instinct. She loved this man and wanted to be with him always.

“I think I could get used to that, too,” she admitted softly.

Someone knocked at the door, breaking into their conversation. Impatiently, Logan glanced at it. “Are you expecting anyone? One of your neighbors?”

“You,” she said. “Here, turn these. I’ll see who it is and get rid of them.” She handed him the spatula.

Abby’s hand was shaking as she grasped the knob, praying it wouldn’t be Tate. If she was lucky, she could ask him to leave before Logan knew what was happening.

Her worst fears were realized when she pulled the door open halfway.

“Hi. Someone let me into the lobby.”

“Hello, how are you?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“I’m returning the books you lent me. I really enjoyed them.” Tate gave her a funny look. “Is this a bad time or something?”

“You might say that,” she breathed. “Could you come back tomorrow?”

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