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And someone yelling at them to, ‘get a room’.
“What was that for?” she murmured, forehead resting against Logan’s.
His finger ran over the top of her hand and she shivered, moving so that she could see his eyes.
“I don’t care if we’re at the Twisted Lemon or the fast food joint across the street or even the Donut Diner for that matter. The fact that you went to all this trouble to plan a night for us.” His dark eyes glittered as they slowly moved down her body and then back up again. “The fact that you’re wearing a dress that only makes me want to rip it off? Babe, do you really think I care where we are?”
His hands slipped up to cup her face. “I care about you. I love you. And if we have to spend the night with these meatheads—“
“Hey! Watch who you’re calling a meathead,” Tom Jones shouted from behind Billie.
“Then move back a few paces, Tom.” Logan swept a light kiss across her mouth and then settled back onto his barstool. “We’re going to have a great night.” He winked as Duke set a couple of large drafts in front of them and Billie relaxed a bit.
“You’re right.” She frowned. “I should maybe check in with Bobbi. See how Abel’s doing.”
“Already done.”
Surprised, Billie gazed at her husband. “When did you manage that?”
“Sent a text while we were at the Twisted Lemon.”
“Really.” Billie hadn’t noticed him with his phone.
“It’s called multi-tasking, darlin’.” His long fingers wrapped around the mug of cold beer, and she watched him take a long drink. His gaze never left hers and just like it had when she’d first come back to New Waterford , the flutters in her stomach went wild. That’s what this man could do. With just one look.
He bent forward, voice low. “I’ve been practicing.”
“You have.”
He nodded. “The whole multi-tasking thing.”
“Should I be impressed?” she asked, trying to hide the smile and the tremble in her voice.
“I don’t want to sound conceited or anything, but hell yes.” His voice sent shivers across her skin. “Thing is?” He said with a wicked grin. “I still need to practice ‘cause there’s a few areas that need work.”
“Really,” she said, trying to catch her breath though her heart was beating so fast it was hard to do.
“Yes,” he replied, voice so low only she could hear. “I plan on doing a lot of multi-tasking when I get you alone. A lot of practicing.” He glanced at his watch. “You have until midnight.”
Billie could only stare at him in silence as another wave of those flutters in her stomach flushed her skin from the top of her head all the way to the tips of her toes. The sexual chemistry she and Logan shared was always there, simmering beneath the surface.
She felt it in a glance. In the unsaid words that hung between them.
Here she was in a bar that was full to bursting and yet, with Logan’s eyes on her and those unsaid words between them, she felt as if they were the only two people in the room.
Billie’s heart swelled, her throat closed and she looked away, feeling silly because tears stung the
corners of her eyes. Sometimes when she was with Logan, the love she had inside her was so big and strong that she was afraid it would spill out of her in a great big heaping glob of emotion that she would be unable to control. Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was just the way she was built. But when Billie was mad, she cried. When she was upset, she cried. And when she was happy, she cried.
If she let this ball of emotion inside her break, there would be crying and she wanted no tears tonight.
Nope. She reached for her beer. She was after some sugar and—she glanced up at the clock on the wall behind Duke—only had a few hours to go until her sweet tooth was satisfied. How long could it take to get a basket of wings and some garlic bread?
As it turned out, a hell of a long time. The kitchen staff was shorthanded—something about the flu—and by the time Logan and Billie got their wings, she wasn’t even all that hungry. But she picked away at her food, and the two of them joined in a spirited discussion with the guys sitting at the bar about darts.
Which led to Billie being challenged to a game, and Billie was, if nothing else, always a gamer.
By this time, she’d doffed her four inch heels (why was it that the shoes that made a girls legs look amazing, were always the shoes that pinched the most?) and with Logan cheering her on, squared up in a best of five with none other than Seth Longwood, Mr. Dickhead of New Waterford.
