Page 27

I huff and my cheeks burn. He knows me as well as I know him. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re here.”

The burning in my cheeks cools and I laugh. He’s right. I am here—in Amelia’s house—despite what Dad and Ben told me to do.

“That reminds me,” I say. “Are you ready to rip out some carpet?”

Thirteen

“I hope you have a better tool.” I hold up Amelia’s butcher knife. “This didn’t work.”

“No, no, no.” Logan pushes my hand down.

“But—”

“Trust me. I can get this carpet up without murdering it.” His dark brows rise with a grin. “All you need is a little muscle.”

It’s as if he’s forced me. My gaze darts to that bicep, and when I divert, I’m once again looking at where I am certain abs are hiding beneath that shirt.

Get a grip, girl! I slap one hand over my eyes. I have never had issues with self-control before. Never have I ever jeopardized friendship because I found a man attractive. I’m with Ben. I love Ben. My ogling is only going to cost me this new friendship. And I don’t want that.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

“Yes.” With both fists, I rub my eyeballs. “There’s something in… my eye. Excuse me.” Like a really terrible stage actor, I walk back to the kitchen, where I continue to rub at my perfectly fine eyes.

Ugh. I’m an idiot.

All at once, Logan’s palms are at the sides of my face. His fingers brush at my wrists, and then he’s pulling my hands down. “Don’t rub them. That’ll only make it worse.”

I flinch at his touch, hoping he’ll buy this act and take one step back.

But apparently, I can’t have both.

Tipping my chin upward, Logan peers into my eyes, searching for the non-existent item assaulting me. “I don’t see anything.” His clean, soapy scent fills my lungs, and I immediately hold my breath.

I cannot breathe in another man. Because—Benjamin. Benjamin! Blinking, I step away from him. “Yep, all better. It’s gone. Thanks.”

“You’re okay?” Logan watches me, waiting for my nod. When I give it, he grins. “Then let’s get to work.”

I comb my fingers through my long hair, tying it into a knot at the back of my neck. “How long do you think this will take?” I stare at the carpet and purposely not at Logan.

“Not too long. What’s your plan for now? Do you want to take it all up tonight or just see if the hardwood is underneath? I can pull it up and roll it, but it will take a few guys to get it out of here.”

I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just need to know if the floorboards are still there. If there’s even a possibility that Amelia’s secrets aren’t lost. We could do all this work and she could have moved them. There might be nothing there. But I have to know. I have to look. “Let’s see what’s under it tonight. Tomorrow I’ll make a plan.”

“Sounds good.” Logan rubs his hands together before walking to the corner of the room. Kneeling, he picks at the edge of the carpet with his fingers.

“Are you sure you don’t want the knife?” I peek over his shoulder, watching as he meticulously plucks at the carpet.

“I’m sure,” he says, a low laugh rumbling in his chest.

And then, a small flap at the corner of the rug lifts. Logan works a couple of fingers beneath the flap and tugs. More of the beige mess peels up. “Move back.” Standing, he yanks at the carpet. I watch as it easily rips up halfway around the room.

I gasp, my heart racing. He did it—in minutes, no knives required.

Like a giant taco, Logan flips the rug over on itself, then he does the same with the dusty carpet pad.

Hardwood.