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“Cocky bastard.”
He slung his arm around her shoulders. “Why yes, yes I am.”
“Yeah. You’re definitely going home alone, pal.”
Logan laughed. “Mean.”
“You have no idea.” She stopped and scooped up her bra and panties.
He groaned. “You’re bare under that fucking dress. I was really trying to ignore that fact.”
Her lips twitched into a smile up at him. “It’s rather freeing and terrifying.”
“What would your mama say?”
Bella’s smile slid away. Her mother wouldn’t say anything. Her mother would just sniff disapprovingly. If she noticed at all.
Logan laced his fingers with hers and helped her stand. “I’m sorry, that was stupid to say.”
She waved it away. “Don’t worry about it.” She walked ahead, and Logan caught her hand, spinning her around.
“It was thoughtless.”
She lifted her hand to his cheek. “You were a good son. Loved your mom, huh?”
Logan’s lids dropped and his ridiculously long lashes shielded whatever emotions had flickered there. Then he stared right into her eyes. “I did. And I miss her every day.”
“I remember reading that you lost your mom. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Not many secrets when the tabloids pick into every corner of your life.” He kissed her gently. “But thanks.”
She couldn’t imagine people prying like that. Any sense of privacy was destroyed the more money, and fame a person had. Another reason why she wanted to walk away from him.
Not because she couldn’t hold up under the scrutiny, but because there would be the promise of it. How many women had been in his life for more than a moment? Five, ten? So many more than that? Had they reveled in his status, or had they longed for privacy like she did?
He drew her down the stairs to the back of the barn. The heavy door locked behind them as they escaped to the parking lot. Logan caged her against the door of his pickup. “I want this more than I can remember wanting anything, Izzy. I just want you to know that. No matter what happens.”
She dragged in a breath when he slid his thigh between her legs. She laid her hands on his chest, drawing in the heat and solid strength beneath her palms. Logan ticked off every box in the wrong-for-her column. No solid home base, bad boy written out in the bold, all caps handwriting he used in his setlist, and as far from steady as she could find a definition for.
Then why did his every touch feel right?
And why was this moment, in the dark, all she could think about?
He lifted his hand to her cup her cheek, his long fingers slipping into her hair. He lowered his mouth to hers. None of the previous heat scorched her. In fact, he seemed to be taking special care with her. He lightly sipped from her lips. His touch butterfly light, fragile in a way she never would have expected from this man.
That was why she wanted nothing more than to run down the path and escape him. This wasn’t the way to get him out of her system. This kind of kiss was an epoxy bond.
But she didn’t run.
And that scared her more than anything.
Fourteen
The heavy night air was full of her. With a helluva lot of reluctance, and no shortage of willpower, Logan stepped back. He opened the door and boosted her onto the seat.
Her legs fell open, and he had to tell himself to walk away. He didn’t know if there were photographers hiding around there. He didn’t have the neck tingles he always seemed to get when they were around. With everyone having left the barn well over an hour ago, the chances were slim.
But he needed one more touch.
