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Why wouldn’t he look at her? “You don’t…you don’t think it was me. Do you?”
Blue eyes veered back. “No. Not at all. You would’ve said something a long time ago if you were going to talk. It must’ve been someone from the grief group.”
At the front of the store, the door swung open. Paige whirled around to watch two girls begin to enter. But when they saw Logan, their eyes grew large. Jarring to a halt, they gawked at him before scurrying backward and out the exit.
Paige’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God. I cannot believe this. It was three years ago, people. And it was an accident.”
Opening her mouth to rage about the treatment he was getting, she spun to Logan and froze when she saw his pale features. He looked downright haunted.
Sending her a tremulous smile, he said, “Yeah. Well, not everyone has your ability to forgive and move on.”
She couldn’t handle seeing him so crushed. She stepped forward to hug him, let him know she wouldn’t abandon him, but the business phone rang, stalling her.
Logan jerked, and then rushed to answer. “You’ve reached The Squeeze. How can I help you?” He pulled back as if startled to hear whatever he was hearing. Paige shifted closer, focusing on his face. “Yes,” he answered before shaking his head. “No. Actually, it’s not at all…okay.” His gaze slid to her, the expression on his face unreadable. “Okay. I will. Okay. Bye.”
He hung up and continued to stare at Paige.
“Well?” she demanded.
He blinked as if…well, it was still hard to read him. But he appeared to be somewhere between perplexed, upset, and worried. “That was Gus,” he said slowly. “He said to close shop and lock the place up.”
Paige’s mouth dropped open. “What? Why?”
Logan shrugged. “He didn’t say.”
“And you didn’t ask?” Paige was furious. The angst in his eyes told her why he hadn’t. “You think it’s because of you.”
His gaze said yes, but his lips said, “I don’t know, but he wanted to make sure I walked you home tonight.”
Paige blinked. “Huh?”
Logan shook his head and lifted his hands. “Look, I have no idea. But this is really weird. I’m not getting good vibes. Let’s just do what he says and get out of here as fast as possible.” Turning away, he opened the cash drawer and began to clear out the register. “Can you get the front door?”
Paige stared at him a moment before she let out a sigh. “Yeah,” she said and left him to his task.
As soon as she locked the door and flipped the Open sign over, an upbeat hip-hop melody filled the air behind her. She looked back just in time to see Logan lowering his arm from the radio clock above the juice machine.
Grinning because he’d remembered how much she liked to work to music, she hummed along to the popular tune and found a broom to sweep the front parlor. Logan stayed behind the counter, starting the sink water, looking uptight and concerned. As he added suds, Paige twirled her broom, dancing with it as she swept. She glanced at him, hoping he was watching, hoping her silliness would help loosen him up.
He was, and his gorgeous half-smile tugged at his cheeks. Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the dirty dishes, but at least his shoulders looked more relaxed.
Though she put on a façade of being perfectly fine, her body remained tense and braced. Something eerie was going on, and it involved Logan somehow. But for Gus to request that Logan see her safely home suggested something else entirely.
She shook her head as she stowed the broom away and moved behind the counter to help Logan with the finishing touches.
When Jason Mraz’s song I Won’t Give Up came on over the radio, they were nearly done with clean up.
Paige sucked in a long breath. She needed something to distract her nerves. And she needed a reason to touch him again. Grasping onto this excuse, she swirled to him with a coaxing smile. “This is my favorite song.” Drawn toward him as she’d never been drawn to anyone, she held out her arms. “Dance with me?”
He hesitated, though the temptation was clear in his gaze. Shaking his head lightly, he gave a soft chuckle. “We don’t have time.”
She batted her lashes. “Come on. There’s always time for one dance.” When he didn’t immediately give in, her expression turned serious. “Besides, we need to talk…about last night. And this morning.”
If anything, that only made him look more wary. So she went back to coaxing. “Please. I want to dance with you.”
He shifted toward her, then stopped himself. “I don’t know. It’s been too long since I last danced with anyone.”
Her smile bloomed wide. She was breaking him down. “You can’t be any worse than the broom.”
