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My throat hums softly as I become one with my surroundings, with the house of the Lord and its safety. I become one with my thoughts, my mind, and soul. With my breathing, that now goes in and out as solid puffs of air.
When the church bells start ringing, I awake from my trance. It’s eleven already, I realize as I finally open my eyes. I look at the altar in awe, before gazing down to the stand in front of me. A paper with the order of the next service. It contains a handwritten message and has my name on it. I look around, my heart hammering, and my eyes find Logan, who comes striding toward me. He still looks tired, his hair a disheveled mess, stubble on his jaw, slight grease on his forehead. He looks sexy as hell.
Without hesitation, I stuff the paper into the pocket of my coat and accept Logan’s outstretched hand. He turns to stand next to me, facing the altar in silence, for a moment.
“True,” he mumbles and I smile softly.
“Yeah.”
He turns to face me and brushes my chin with his fingertips. “I can’t change your first love, but I’ll make sure to change the big love. Into me. I want to be your big love, angel.”
“Let’s go.” I squeeze his hand and he follows me back to the exit where I see the older man from before lingering. He holds the door for us and as we leave our gazes meet and he tips his head.
Outside, the sun is shining and the city is showered in its usual casual buzz.
“You hungry?”
“Yeah. I’m meeting Prue later today for some girl time, but I could definitely use another coffee,” I admit. Mason joins us as we make our way to the coffee shop on the corner where we find a seat at the window. The waitress comes and Logan places our orders, two eggs sunny side up, white toast, bacon, coffee, and a small OJ. I don’t know what the latter is or whether I can finish this monster plate, but I smile anyway.
While Logan’s on his phone, Mason and I fall back into some casual chatter. He’s actually very pleasant when his uptight boss isn’t paying any attention. Plus, it’s nice to talk about other things than blackmailing and crime. I tell him about my weekend, about the girls, about our discovery of the city on bicycles. He promises me a tour, on the bike, through Brooklyn. Logan looks up and watches Mason with a dark stare, but I place my fingers on his hand and give him a smile. “You’re welcome to join, you know.” He gives his usual huff, but the corner of his lips slightly curl and I wink at Mason, who shakes his head with a grin. “Well, we’ll have to do it before you go. When are you flying back?” I swallow, then clear my throat. Suddenly the air feels too dry as I search for my words. My face flushes and I fumble with my napkin.
I don’t want to go.
I don’t want to go.
I eye Logan, who’s staring at me from over his phone.
“I-I should look into flights. I haven’t—”
“Stay.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
MONDAY – ANGÉLIQUE
“With me.” The words have left his mouth a moment before I fully register them. I’m sure my mouth hangs open, agape.
“I—” I stutter again. I’m lost for words, though that’s a bit of an understatement. To be fair, he looks equally as shocked as I do.
“Angélique!” A loud voice. We whip our heads toward the sound, and I see Prue’s dark curls bouncing around, followed by a wave of her hand. A waft of sweet perfume clouds us when she brings me in for a hug. “Babe! You didn’t tell me you were still here. Ah, it’s so good to see you again.” She pulls back, eyeing me, before her gaze darts to Mason and Logan. She tilts her head slightly. “And you are?”
“None of your business,” Logan growls. I gasp and turn to face him.
“Come on, she’s my friend. Prue, this is Logan, Logan, this is Prue. And this…” I point at the bodyguard, “is Mason. And we,” I stand up, relief washing over me, “are going to spend some time together. I will see you guys later.”
“Not so fast.” Logan stands up to his full height and I can’t ignore the way he hovers over me. I square my shoulders and as if he realizes his demeanor, he takes a step back. “Mason will accompany you today.” The other guy looks baffled, but stands nonetheless.
“No.” I give Logan what I hope is a reassuring smile, but also a shake of my head. I love him being protective, but there are limits. I will not give up my freedom. “I’ve got your number. If you want to pick me up later, that’s great. I’ll give you a call, okay?”
The muscles in his jaw flex when he grinds them and his eyes lock with mine. Then he nods. “Okay, great,” I quip. “I’ll see you later, then.” I wonder what to do now. Do I give him a kiss? Or not in public? He doesn’t seem to move, so I give Mason a small wave and take my bag. Right as I want to leave, he pulls his hands firmly around my neck and pulls me against his chest. He brushes his mouth on mine and looks over my shoulder. “If she doesn’t come back in one piece, I’ll find you.”
I gasp, expecting Prue to feel intimidated at the least, and plain scared at the most. “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one with bodyguards,” she counters, voice laced with pride. He frees me and I hear him chuckle, before he gives me one last peck. “Have fun.” Then we’re on our way. The weather is truly lovely today, golden rays coloring the trendy streets of Greenwich Village. I still ponder over her words while we walk in silence side by side.
“So, here’s the deal.” We stop at a bakery. “This place has got the best donuts in this neighborhood. We grab some, go for a walk, youtalk, because I wanna know all about the hunk in that coffee shop, and then we’ll go to the photo museum. How does that sound?”
“That sounds good. Although you really have me curious. Doyouhave a bodyguard?”
Prue gives me a soft smile, then tilts her head to the store. “First, donuts.”
