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He flung his arm around my shoulders and grinned down at me. Logan shoved his arm off of me immediately.
“Knock it off,” he growled at his flirtatious brother.
Was I crazy, or was this not going well?
“Let’s all go into the living room while the chef finishes making dinner,” his grandpa suggested.
Logan’s hand was still on my back, more possessively now after Hayden had touched me, and I clung to the comfort that it provided as we followed the old man into a living room that was probably bigger than my whole apartment. The furniture was white leather and there was a gorgeous Persian rug on the floor that I didn’t want to step on and mess up.
Logan and I claimed the loveseat, sitting so close together that our thighs were pressed against each other. I tried to ignore the way that made my body feel alive, and how aware I was of his body heat and the spicy, enticing scent of his cologne.
This wasnotthe time for that.
Dylan came into the room from the kitchen with a woman at his side that looked so much like Logan’s mom that I had to do a double take. Upon closer inspection, the woman was a little short and probably about fifteen pounds heavier. She was still beautiful, despite her blood-shot eyes.
There was a glass of amber liquid in her hand and it sloshed around as she came closer and cupped Logan’s chin. When she spoke, I realized why her eyes looked the way they did. I could smell the alcohol on her breath.
“Look at you, Logan,” she said, giving him a sappy smile. “All grown up and ready to get married. When did that happen?”
“That’s a good question, Linda,” Logan’s mom said, her eyes landing on me again, making me feel like I was being scrutinized under a microscope. “This . . . engagement seems to have happened rather suddenly.”
“We’ve known each other for two years,” Logan said, his voice way too defensive.
“When did the two of you start dating?” she asked, taking a seat across from us.
“We’ve always had feelings for each other,” Logan said, sounding a little calmer as he continued. He took my hand and intertwining our fingers, like we were truly a real couple and had been together for a while now. “And lately, I realized that I was ready to settle down and the perfect girl was right in front of me all along.”
He sounded so convincing, and I was in awe of him and his quick tale. If I didn’t know better,Iwould have believed every word he said.
“I’m glad to hear that,” his grandpa said, giving Logan a not-so-subtle wink. “I told you, you just have to be open to finding the right one and it’ll happen. Just like with me and your grandmother.”
His grandpa’s optimistic point of view was charming. Our “love story” had to seem a little convenient to him, since it was coming right after his ultimatum. But I figured that the man was nearly desperate to make sure that his plan worked out. Why else would he pull something like this in the first place?
“Your home is lovely, Mr. Reid,” I said, feeling like I should contribute something to the conversation.
“Please, call me Patrick,” he said with another one of those warm smiles of his. “You’re practically family. Now, tell me more about yourself.”
“Well, I studied business in college and I’ve been working as Logan’s assistant for the past two years.” He squeezed my hand, and I took the nonverbal cue and added, “In that time, I fell in love with him. I just had no idea he felt the same until recently.”
The lie came easily.
Patrick continued to ask questions about our relationship, and Logan took the lead on answering most of them. In doing so, he revealed that he knew even more about me than just my mom’s money troubles. I didn’t know what to make of that.
A woman in a simple black maid’s uniform walked into the living room.
“Dinner is ready,” she announced, and we all moved into the dining room.
The table was huge, but all the settings were at one end, and I found myself sitting between Logan and his Aunt Linda, who eagerly accepted a glass of red wine when the maid went around the table with a bottle.
Across from us, Hayden sat between Dylan and his mother. Of course, Logan’s grandfather took the position at the head of the table. Things felt less awkward as the meal started and we could all focus on the food.
But that didn’t last long.
“So, Maria, is it?” Linda asked as the dessert was being brought out, and I could tell that she was fully drunk now.
“Mia, actually,” I said, smiling politely.
“I don’t suppose you come from money, being an assistant and all.” She wrinkled her nose at me.
