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He removes the shoe entirely, dropping it to the ground and then slowly bringing my foot to rest on his knee before working the sore muscles in my calf.
“Can I ask you something?” he says while gradually massaging down my leg to the top of my foot.
My mouth waters at the pressure he places along the arch, and I have to grip the table to stop from toppling over. “You keep doin’ that, and you can ask me anything you want.”
One damn foot rub and my voice has gone pathetically gluttonous.
His low hum does nothing to extinguish the heat licking up the inside of my leg, all the way to the tops of my thighs. I close my eyes, mouth going slack on a groan when he rubs the hollowed dips of my ankle.
“Why didn’t you give George your true name?”
I wait a heartbeat or two, considering my answer the same way Dad does when he’s not sure how much to reveal. “Because I didn’t want him to connect the dots like most of the other islanders do.”
He switches to the other side, genuinely perplexed. “And that would be a bad thing?”
“My father’s name has a lot of influence, but it’s his name, not mine. It feels hokey using that as an advantage when I can live a happy, quiet life without it.”
“There’s nothing quiet about you, sunshine,” he says solemnly.
He frowns when I gingerly pull my foot from his grasp. “I guess that’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t want to conform to other people’s expectations of me, but it’s the one and only thing I do best.”
“If you don’t want to, then why do you?”
It’s an honest question, but I feel my guard rising defensively. We’re not supposed to go here, falling back into our old roles, trading smiles and touches that mend our hurts.
But we just can’t help ourselves, can we?
“The same reason I suspect you’re following in Silas’s footsteps—suited up and working your life away.” I deflect, shutting him out before he gets too close. Denying him access to my vulnerability. “Keeping him happy.”
A muscle feathers up his neck, twitching along his jaw. “This job provides an income that gives me security and stability.”
“Ah, so you’re breaking your promise for the money. How noble.”
Anger makes me petty, but I don’t care. Logan said he’d go his own way—make his own name—and I’ve never liked Silas.
“At least I’m taken care of, not living out of a rundown van, begging for scraps on the side of the highway.” His eyes are sharp as arrows. “I’ve been there, done that, and I’m never going back.”
A chill skates down my spine at the icy conviction in his tone.
“Wealth isn’t always the answer,” I fire back.
“Tell that to my father,” he mumbles, looking away from me.
“I don’t need to tell him. I’m telling you.”
Logan scoffs, lacing his fingers and bracing his elbows on the table, while I stare at him in disbelief.
“I guess he got his perfect little soldier, after all,” I say.
“Don’t.” His smooth warning has the hair on the back of my neck bristling when he stands abruptly. “You don’t know what he’s sacrificed to get us to where we are now.”
Sacrifices like me?
“Believe me, I have an idea.”
I swipe my heels off the ground before standing and meeting him chest to chest, both of us so angry, our fists clench tight.
“He was there when I needed him the most. Picked me up, dusted me off, and taught me what it means to be a man. To have pride in everything I’ve worked for, and I almost gave up on him for a dream I wished could have come true. More than anything, Pen, I wish it could have.” My heart splinters as his sad eyes bore a hole through me. “But it didn’t, and he helped me realize that sometimes dreams don’t become reality, no matter how badly we wish for them to.”
