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and Mac jumped off me and onto the floor, snorting once before laying down on top of Sadie. The shirt that I was wearing rode high, nearly up to my hips and revealed the navy blue boyshorts I had on. I quickly reached for the blanket but Logan was faster and snatched it off the couch, shaking a much less swollen finger in front of my face. “No way. I get to enjoy this for a minute.”
I tugged the shirt down to my knees and glared at him. “Give me the blanket.”
He crossed his arms over his bare chest and cocked his head to the side, clearly enjoying himself as he checked me out. My cheeks flamed and I wanted to go outside and bury my face in the snow. I wasn’t used to being… ogled. Logan Ashford was ogling me.
“You’d look good in one of my t-shirts,” he said casually and then tossed the blanket at me, laughing when I wrapped it around myself and pulled it up to my neck.
That was it. There was no innuendo, no hidden message. Just the small comment that I’d look good in his shirt. He wasn’t expecting anything else. It was almost nice to not have to worry about some follow up comment that my legs would look good over his shoulders or something equally crude.
Although, well, my legs would look good over his shoulders.
Get it together. What is wrong with me? I never think like this, I thought to myself before shuffling over to my bag and yanking on a pair of black leggings. Logan watched, amused, as I managed to pull them on all while not dropping the blanket from around me. Afterwards, I tossed the blanket on the couch and followed him into the kitchen, taking notice of his nice assets as he brewed a pot of coffee.
He was lean and strength radiated off of him in a subtle way. The way he moved was slow, purposeful, and it was very obvious that he liked to be in control of his life and his body. So I could only imagine how hard it was to cope with the fact that his own body was betraying and hurting him and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
The more I got to know Logan the more I found myself being drawn to him. I appreciated the way he didn’t talk too much and how he was genuinely interested in my line of work. We had a mutual appreciation of hard work and independence, something that I was deeply attracted to in a man. In this day and age a man who could support himself, maintain a career, and take care of his body was hard to come by. But Logan made it all look so easy.
I was getting myself into trouble, I felt it. Feelings were developing somewhere deep inside a heart that I’d long ago closed off, and that wasn’t part of the plan. I’d made a promise that I wouldn’t open up and wouldn’t fall in love because, from what I’d seen over the last twenty seven years, nothing good came from falling in love. A career, a nice home, and travelling were attainable. Falling in love and having my happily ever? That couldn’t happen because I wouldn’t let it. I couldn’t.
Which was something that I clearly needed to remind myself as I thought about how nice it would be to drink coffee in Logan’s kitchen every morning while he complimented my legs and I checked out an ass that I could bounce a quarter off of.
“I can do that,” I offered as he moved to take two coffee mugs out of a glass doored cupboard. “I can make breakfast, too. What do you want?”
He rolled his eyes and then pointed to the table. “I want you to go sit down.”
I fidgeted next to him and gave him the once over. He seemed to be standing firmly on both feet and his body didn’t seem as stiff as yesterday. No dark circles under his eyes and his hands looked much better than yesterday. But still I didn’t feel comfortable letting Logan do everything while I just sat there and did nothing.
“You should be resting.”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”
I huffed, wanting to prove him wrong. I wasn’t a mother hen and if he wanted to do it on his own then fine, so be it. Tongue in cheek, I walked to the table and sat down, drumming my fingers against the light stained wood and watching Logan silently.
He moved quickly and his movements were sharper than yesterday. He took bacon, eggs, cheese and bagels out of the fridge and dumped them on the counter before turning to me and laughing.
“What?” I asked and sat up straighter.
“Your face. You’re scowling at me.” He laughed again and shook his head, his abs flexing. “You hate not being in control, huh?”
I didn’t hate not being in control, I just didn’t like not being in control. It was a personal preference that I liked being the boss. Essentially, I was my own boss at work, I lived alone and made all of the decisions involving my house and my dog. Being in control was natural for me. It was comfortable.
“I don’t hate not being in control,” I protested.
“But you don’t like it.”
With no proper response coming to mind, I simply narrowed my eyes at him.
Logan cocked his head to the side and narrowed his own eyes at me, curious. “I wonder…”
I waited for him to continue but he said nothing and turned around to finish making what I assumed were breakfast sandwiches. When he went to put bacon on mine I explained that I was a pescatarian and the look on his face was absolutely priceless.
Sitting across from each other at his small kitchen table, we shared breakfast and good conversation. Logan made jokes and told me about his his family and growing up in one of the most popular families in Port James. He was sweet, funny, compassionate, and had an obvious love for his siblings. His cooking skills were out of this world and I don’t know why I was surprised by that, but I was. Plus, he was a good dog owner and his love for Mac was obvious with all of the affection he gave the spoiled puppy.
I could get used to this, I thought for the umpteenth time that morning.
Chapter 7
T he next day, I was at work when there was a knock on my office door. I was in the middle of updating the adoption list, and with all of the snow things at Arden had been a real mess when I arrived. My list of chores was a mile long and something was wrong with the wifi, making things that much more difficult.
