Bracing both hands on the counter, I did exactly that—eyes shut, heart open.
First came the soft brush of his fingertips under my chin, coaxing me closer gently. Then the press of his lips—warm, full, steady—landing on mine in a kiss so tender I nearly melted into it. He kissed me like I was something delicate. Precious.
Before I could even begin to crave more, he pulled back and whispered, “Okay, open up.”
My eyes fluttered open to a bouquet of fresh-picked wildflowers and a bag of my favorite candy. The kind of flowers that only grew wild on my family’s land.
And judging by his appearance, dirt-smeared, sweaty, rugged in that irresistible Logan kind of way, he’d come straight from work to me.
“Oh,” I breathed. “These are so pretty.”
I reached out to take them, smiling up at him as I bent down to grab a glass vase from under the counter.
“Good thing I work at a flower shop,” I teased.
With a few practiced fluffs, I arranged the flowers just right. “Voila! I’ll add water when I get upstairs.”
“I did pretty well, didn’t I?”
“You did perfect. The colors go together beautifully.”
I stepped out from behind the counter and melted into him. Logan’s arms wrapped around me like a cocoon, his chin resting on top of my head as he gently rocked us side to side. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until I was in it.
When we pulled apart, he studied me, that easy warmth in his expression giving way to something more serious.
“What’s wrong?”
I blinked. “How the heck do you know something’s wrong?”
“I can tell, Ace. I know you better than you think.”
His words wrapped around my heart like a bandage, tight and healing.
He waited, and I sighed, stepping back behind the counter to begin counting out the till. Partly to distract myself. Mostly to delay the conversation.
Logan didn’t push. He leaned a hip against the counter, casually waiting while I pretended to be too busy for a heart-to-heart.
Eventually, he started cleaning up around the store, helping so we could get out of there faster. Sandy was still working inthe back, likely wrapping up whatever last-minute task had her attention.
“Miles came by today,” I blurted, the words catching even me off guard.
Logan froze, then straightened, storming to my side in three long strides. “Excuse me? Did he try to talk to you? Why didn’t you call me?”
“He did. But I shut him down,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though my voice wavered ever so slightly.
“What did he say? How did it go? Did he lay a hand on you? I swear?—”
“Logan,” I cut in gently, laying both hands on his biceps. “Everything was fine. He didn’t put up much of a fight. Sandy came out, and he left.”
“Sandy? She scared him off?”
I nodded, biting my lip to keep from laughing as the tension in his shoulders finally eased. Logan let out a deep, belly-shaking laugh.
“What a wuss,” he muttered.
“Oh, you should’ve seen her,” I said with a giggle, crossing my arms and striking the same stance Sandy had used earlier. I mimicked her voice, adding a little extra sass: “This is my shop. Which means my rules.”
“I don’t sound like that,” Sandy called from the back as she appeared through the swinging doors, arching a brow. “If you’re going to tell the story, at least get it right.”
