Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Are we done?” I ask, letting out a breath.
“With the photos,” he says, giving my hip a squeeze as we walk inside.
The entrance leads to a large function hall, a stage at the front, and tables dotted here and there. Three chandeliers hang from the ceiling, catching the light, and making it glitter. Soft music plays in the background, though the band isn’t on stage yet. The music comes softly from the speakers.
There are glamorous people everywhere, models and actors and everybody in nice suits and incredible outfits.
It’s too much to take in, my head feeling like it’s spinning…not just the phrase people use, but actually like it’s going to twist off my freaking head.
“I so don’t belong here,” I mutter, then laugh at how surreal it is. “How crazy is this, Logan?”
He chuckles, leaning down and softly kissing my cheek. He moves away quickly; I know it’s because he doesn’t want anybody else to see us like this.
I know how badly he wants to keep me, and us, to himself.
“I felt the same my first time,” he says.
“I thought the first time was later,” I joke, even if the thought still makes me wonder if I’m going to be able to do it.
I’ve seen how huge he is, when he was between my breasts, I felt how massive he is.
He laughs gently. “That’s even more reason to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Don’t we have to…mingle, or whatever?”
“The main part was the photos,” he says. “Now we need to stay just long enough, so we’re not being rude.”
“Isn’t there a photographer at this event?” I ask.
Logan shakes his head. “I told them I wouldn’t come if there was.”
“What? When?”
“When you agreed to come. They got their fill outside. You don’t need them bothering you all night.”
My shoulders deflate, my smile spreading as if of its own accord, as I realize I might be able to enjoy this evening.
“Maybe I don’t have to be so grumpy then…and thank you.”
He chuckles. “Being grumpy’s my job anyway. And you’re welcome.”
“You’re not grumpy anymore.” I reach up and touch his face, I can’t help myself. “You’ve been real smiley today.”
He grins, touching my hips and leaning down. But he doesn’t kiss me. He just stays there, looking at me with all that acceptance swirling in his eyes.
“I can’t help it. It’s you, Lucy…the fact you didn’t run away the second I told you how I felt.”
“Or fly off the balcony,” I say, trying for a lighthearted tone as I step forward, smooth my hands to his chest and squeeze down. “I couldn’t believe it. But it feels so right, Logan. It feels like this is what we’re meant to do. Meant to be.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he says. “We belong together.”
“Hey, lovebirds.” Bryce walks over, holding hands with a shortish woman wearing a gorgeous purple dress and earrings to match. “This is my wife, Roxie. Roxie, this is Lucy, Logan’s….”
“Girlfriend,” Logan says, and my belly gets all warm and tingly. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Lovely to meet you.”
I shake hands with Roxie and then look around. “Where’s Jane?”
“She’s talking with William Lino,” he says. “They seem to be hitting it off.”
I grin, looking across the room, and sure enough… there’s Jane Lane speaking with a Hollywood actor like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He laughs and she places her hand on his arm.
“I’m happy for her,” I say. “She loves him. Well, his movies.”
“Maybe she’ll love him too soon,” Bryce says, grinning. “Shall we find our table?”
Logan takes my hand, and I squeeze his, exhilaration speeding through me each moment.
“Sounds good to me,” he says.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Logan
“He was an amazing man,” Lucy says, raising her voice over the sound of the band.
The meal and the auction went amazingly, and now we’re on the dancing portion of the night.
Well… me and Lucy are on the leave-us-alone portion.
We’re standing at the edge of the dance floor, Lucy looking like a princess in her dress, with her styled hair, my hands on her hips, ready to indulge in the rest of her body.
But then I lean down, nodding.
“He wasn’t a genius or anything,” she goes on, talking about her dad. “But he was smart. And he was a good person. The sort of hero people don’t really write stories about, you know? He never blamed me for Mom’s death. There was never any of that resentment. He worked two jobs when I was younger but still found time for me. When I was a teenager, he got a promotion at the factory, and he was able to quit his second job. He was truly an incredible father, especially because he was on his own.”
“I wish I could’ve met him,” I say, taking her hands in mine.
I’m about to say something that might be a mistake, even now – I’m about to tell her it makes me think of our wedding day when we hold hands like this – but then somebody laughs cruelly from behind us. Lucy’s eyes go wide as she peers around me, but I don’t have to turn.