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Joy’s expression was radiant when he finished. His heart tripped at the happiness in her face. She scooped up her phone and touched the screen to stop recording. “Got it. Thank you so much. I know she’s going to love that.”
He smiled back as his fingers absently strummed the strings. When he realized the tune his subconscious had chosen, his pulse skipped, but he made a split second decision to continue playing. It was the song he’d been working on when she’d first overheard him in the loft.
With the opening line, the widening of her eyes confirmed she recognized the lyrics. Her smile, and the approval in her expression, triggered a lump in his throat that roughened his voice. He ducked his head and closed his eyes to concentrate on the music so he wouldn’t get choked up.
It didn’t work, because halfway through the song, the words hit him in a way they never had before. Lyrics about home and family weren’t just phrases strung together to sound good anymore. They became a desperate plea for something he’d lost years ago.
His heart lodged in his throat, rendering his voice nearly inaudible.
What the hell? He’d written the damn song. How had he not recognized the depth of his own longing in the words?
His voice died out, and he couldn’t finish. He abruptly switched to something more upbeat to get his emotions back in check. Another one of his own, because the burning sensation behind his eyelids made him blank on any other choice.
After that was done, he was done, and thankfully, back in control. Joy slipped her phone in her back pocket as she stood and came to take his guitar from his hands. She leaned the instrument against the railing, then stepped in front of him. Logan kept his gaze downcast as he adjusted his stance to give her room to move up between his legs.
“I never heard that second one before.” She placed her hands on his chest, right over the rapid beat of his heart. “Was it one of yours, too?”
“Yeah.”
“I loved it. And you know, the whole guy with a guitar thing really works for you.”
Logan rested his hands on her hips, letting his fingers splay down toward the back pockets of her jeans. “Only where you’re concerned.”
“Good.” She ran her hands up to his shoulders and leaned her body into his. He met her gaze as her arms locked around his neck, and she gave him a slow smile that heated his blood. “Now, I can’t spend the night, but we have all kinds of time before I have to go home. What do you suggest we do with that time?”
“I’ve got a few ideas we could work with.” He smiled as he bent to scoop her up into his arms, then carried her inside, and up the stairs to his bed.
*
Friday morning at dawn, Logan stood on the porch, frowning at the blanket of fog covering the world outside his front door. Right now, he could see about as much of his farm as he could see of his future. The only thing he knew for sure? His future would change today.
He bit back a heavy sigh. It was going to change all right. With the sale set for noon, it was the last day he could call any of this his. The thought put an ache in his chest that hurt more than he’d thought it would.
It made the gray day fit his mood. He’d slept like shit. He was tired and ornery, he knew exactly why, and didn’t plan on apologizing to anyone for it. Well, except for Joy if she showed up.
He hoped she didn’t show up despite telling her the other night he’d like her there at his side. Al had given him the last two days off to prepare for the sale, but he’d told her he wasn’t planning to stick around for it. And he hadn’t planned on staying until this morning. He still appreciated her offer of moral support, but he knew now he didn’t want her to witness this low point in his life.
After he finished with chores—last time for them, too—restlessness sent him to his truck for a drive. He ended up at the gas station to fill up, and when he went inside to pay, he noticed the lottery ticket in his wallet that he’d bought a week ago for the hell of it.
He handed over cash to pay for his gas, along with the lotto ticket. “You mind checking that for me?”
The young blond nodded as she took both from him. His phone vibrated in his pocket, but when he checked the ID, it was only a number, and one he didn’t recognize, so he didn’t answer.
“Hey, Logan, how’s it going?”
He turned around to see Wes Carter behind him. “It’s going. Sale’s in a couple hours.”
“I know. Sorry we couldn’t figure something out.”
“It is what it is.” Sucky, that’s what it is.
He didn’t much feel like making small talk, so he turned back to the attendant as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. The blond handed him his three dollars change, then went to the machine to check his ticket.
A wide smile spread across her face. “Well, congratulations.”
Logan’s heart thumped in his chest. “What?”
“It’s a winner.”
