Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“So, that is what stops you from pursuing a career in music?”
“Not just that. I love seeing people’s reactions to my music, but I enjoy the process and the arrangement more than singing it myself—unless it’s for you. I don’t crave the spotlight or the attention.”
Our food arrived, and he dove in, picking up his burger and taking a huge bite, chewing it slowly. “God, that’s good.”
I chuckled and added some ketchup to my plate. I loved watching him eat. I loved watching him sing. I pretty much loved watching him do anything.
I had to avert my eyes as I realized I probably loved it so much because Brianna was right. I was falling in love with him. It didn’t matter if it had been a week, a month, or even a year. My feelings were real and solid. And I wasn’t sure how to handle that.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Logan asked, his voice concerned. “Are you okay, Lottie?”
I was frozen, staring at him as the truth hit me. He leaned across, wiping a finger under my eye. “Why are you crying?”
I shook my head and reached for a napkin. “The onions are strong,” I fibbed.
“They’re fried. Try again. What is it, sweetheart?”
His endearment rocked me. The soft caress of his voice, the way he was watching me with concern. He made me feel as if I mattered.
I swiped at my cheek. “Nothing. Just so damn proud of you.” I picked up my burger, changing the subject. I wasn’t revealing my feelings over burgers at a diner. “And Carmen? What was he talking about?”
He told me about their phone call. He frowned as he dragged his fries through the ketchup and chewed them. “Did you tell him about the gig?”
“No. I haven’t spoken to him since our meeting.”
“Huh,” was his reply.
I couldn’t help but tease him. “He sought you out all on his own, Logan. No help from me.”
He rolled his eyes and pushed my plate closer. “Whatever, woman. Eat. I need you strong. I’ve got plans for you, and you’re going to have to keep up.”
“That sounds promising.”
He winked. “It will be.”
Chapter 16
Lottie
After we ate, we walked. Logan seemed restless and edgy—unable to settle. There was a light snowfall, and the streets were deserted. We strolled, not talking, simply enjoying the time. I felt him relax, his grip loosening, his footsteps not as rushed. We finally ended up back outside my building, and I hurried up the steps, anxious for warmth. I hadn’t wanted to admit to Logan the boots I was wearing weren’t meant for long walks, nor was my coat as warm as what I would choose for an extended stroll. He followed, quiet and seemingly reflective, his mood confusing me.
I had stopped at one point, staring at a small Tudor-style house. They were well ahead of the game, their Christmas lights bright in the darkness. “What a pretty place,” I murmured, admiring the lines of the house and the leaded windows that twinkled with the lights.
Logan stared at it. “You like that? It’s not fancy or new.”
“I don’t want fancy or new. It looks homey. I bet the rooms are filled with all sorts of hidden alcoves and weird angles.” I glanced around. “The neighborhood is quiet as well.”
“It is. I walk here a lot.”
We kept going, but I glanced over my shoulder, something about the house beckoning to me. I planned to walk past it again another time.
In my condo, I shrugged off my coat and ran my hands up and down my arms to warm them. Logan watched me, then cursed, yanking off his coat and boots and lifting me into his arms. I gasped at the unexpected move.
“What are you doing?”
He strode down the hall and into the bathroom, setting me on the counter. Wordlessly, he pulled off my boots, lifted me to my feet, and yanked my dress over my head, making short work of my lacy undergarments.
He turned on the shower, checking the temperature, and indicated the steaming water. “Get in.”
I shuddered as the heat hit my skin, gasping when Logan stepped in, crowding me with his body. He rubbed at my arms briskly, muttering.
“I forgot you weren’t dressed for a walk, Lottie. You should have reminded me.”
“I was enjoying it.”
He dropped to his knees, stroking my legs. “And now you’re frozen.”
“You’re doing a good job of warming me up,” I murmured.
He glanced up, his eyes dark. He stood, crowding me against the wall, his body teeming with tension, his skin hot against my cold.
“Do you know why I needed to go for a walk, Lottie? Stop and eat before coming here?”
“You were hungry?” I guessed. “Restless from performing?”
He inched closer, his chest melding to mine. He slid his hands down my arms, entwining our fingers and lifting my hands over my head, imprisoning them there. He stroked my neck with one finger, making me shiver, this time with desire and not cold.