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Logan’s expression when she opened the door later said that he didn’t quite get the distinction.
“No.” He shook his head and shut his eyes for a beat. “I’m not going anywhere with you dressed like a cross between Catwoman and Lady Gaga.”
That was such a ludicrous statement, she actually glanced down. “Are you kidding? Lady Gaga would laugh at how tame these shoes are. Also, we’re not having this argument every time, are we?”
“Apparently.” He crossed his arms over his Dallas Mustangs T-shirt, bunching up his biceps in the way that drove her mad. Because she still hadn’t gotten her hands on them, not properly. “Until you get the memo that I’m a conservative, God-fearing baseball team owner who sells hot dogs, foam fingers and memories, not bondage equipment.”
“Honey, you’re about as conservative as a Ferrari.” And twice as sexy. He was a little windblown, as if he’d driven from the stadium in Arlington with the windows open. “No one who kisses a woman like you do could ever be described as tame.”
Windblown Logan was delicious. Almost as much as tuxedo-clad Logan. Maybe more. The tux had lent him an almost inaccessible air, too beautiful to mar, but today he had a ready-to-rumble look that said he’d throw down if she pushed. And she was in the mood to push.
“Tame and conservative are not the same thing,” he said with a once-over that had enough bite that her lady parts perked up. “Kissing you directly benefits my goals. You wearing that outfit does not.”
She crossed her arms to mimic him and let a slow smile spill over her face. “I’m not changing. We’re going to a club in Deep Ellum. I guarantee you I will blend in. You won’t.”
“Good. Then we’ll attract more attention if we don’t blend.” Without asking, he barged into her condo like a bull with the red cape in his sights, then whirled in the marble entryway. “Which direction is your bedroom?”
“Well, if I’d known that’s all it took to get you there, I’d have worn this outfit the first day.”
He scowled. “Stop being dense. You’re wearing different clothes. I need to find your closet.”
“Oh, that’s a terrible reason to be in a woman’s bedroom. Just curious, are you going to wrestle me out of this outfit?” Leaning on the open door frame, she contemplated him and pointed down the hall. “Because if the answer’s yes, my bedroom is that way.”
“Fantastic.”
And then, without any warning, he swung her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a child, slammed the door shut with his foot and carried her to her bedroom. Her pulse tripled as the hard planes of his torso cradled her body. God, he was as solid and strong as she’d always imagined, but he held her gently, as if he didn’t want to break her. If she hadn’t already been snuggled into his embrace, her weak knees might have put her on the floor.
Even though she knew he’d only done it to avoid the rest of the argument, the gesture was so...gallant. As many men as had crossed her threshold, not one had ever treated her like she was delicate, and honestly, she’d have shown every last one of them the door if they had.
There was something about Logan and his old-fashioned streak that hit her between the eyes, almost as if he refused to see her as a sex object, no matter how she regarded herself. It shouldn’t be so affecting. But there it was.
He deposited her on the bed without a word and strode to her closet, throwing wide the doors without hesitation, as if he’d dressed many a woman in his day. And maybe he had.
Oh, hell. She kind of wanted to see what he’d pick out.
“Here.” He came out of the closet with a pair of 7 for All Mankind jeans and a simple black T-shirt that she wore to spin class sometimes. “Put this on.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “So we can be twins?”
He threw the clothes on the bed and hunted around in her drawers until he found a bra and panties, both black, which was an interesting attention to detail she appreciated, completely against her will. When was the last time a man paid that much attention to her?
Handing her the undergarments, he stared down at her on the bed. “No. So I can see the real you underneath all of your deflections.”
The earnestness in his expression froze her lungs and dried up every scrap of amusement in this situation. “What do you mean, the real me? This is as real as I get.”
Before she could move, breathe, blink, he knelt on the bed and grabbed one foot, slowly unbuckling her platform sandal. Transfixed, she watched, too curious where he was headed to stop him.
