Chapter Three
Becky leaned closer, desperate for Logan to agree to let her and Sophie stay in his house for a week or two. That would give her some time to figure out her options. If she got that loan, she could hire the lawyer. Would a restraining order keep Dylan from coming after her? Or Sophie? She needed time to sort it all out.
“Do we have a deal?”
He set his water on the counter. “Yes.”
The man was too sexy for his own good, and for her peace of mind. That she could handle, but that whole thing about him building a camp to help vets with PTSD pulled at her heartstrings and stirred a longing that went deeper than desire. But she needed to keep her mind on their trade. “Thank you. I won’t be home until midnight, but I can start in the morning. I’ll wash all the sheets, remake the beds, and move my stuff out of your room. Just leave a list of anything specific you want me to do.” She picked up her sandwich, determined to finish it before she left.
“I have one condition though.”
Wariness mixed with confusion. “What kind of condition?”
He flattened his hands on the island counter. “I’ll agree to you doing housekeeping chores in exchange for room and board. But that means you help yourself to my food or anything in my kitchen.”
Not only was he sexy, but he was generous without making her feel bad. Did he have any idea what that meant to her? “I have food.”
He glanced at the cheap peanut butter and cardboard bread she’d left on the counter. A second later, he leaned forward, his eyes catching the setting sun, turning them a darker shade of green. “Not negotiable. You don’t like being indebted and I respect that. I don’t like eating steak while a woman in my home eats a sandwich.”
“That really bothers you?”
“Sugar, it annoys the shit out of me.”
A laugh spilled out before she caught it. His bluntness worked for her; her respect for him notched up. Logan wasn’t a spoiled rich boy. “We can’t have that. I’ll eat your food.”
He leaned one forearm on the counter, and touched her wrist, holding the remainder of her sandwich. “Then I just have one question.”
His fingers lightly brushed over her wrist bone, shooting tingling sensations through her. “What?” Hearing the slight catch in her voice, she fought a wince.
“Forget the sandwich. How do you want your steak cooked?”
For a second, she wanted nothing more than to let him cook dinner for her. Idiot. Here she was on the run, hiding from Dylan, had a baby to care for and she fell into instant lust. Forcing a smile, she said, “Rain check. I have to get to work.”
…
Friday afternoon, he pulled up to his house with a twinge of disappointment. He was going to have to bail on dinner with Becky. Barely four days home, and he’d been summoned to his dad’s house for a mandatory family dinner.
That Logan had expected. What surprised him was his regret at not being able to eat with Becky. In a few days’ time, they’d fallen into a routine. He went out and worked on his land and searched for more stock to fill his stable. Becky did her thing around the house, taking care of her baby, and doing the agreed upon chores. Once Logan got home and showered, they had dinner that Becky cooked. Then Becky went to work.
A temporary marriage could work between them. They liked each other, but the sexual chemistry—yeah that could be an issue. Still, they were adults, and Logan fully understood the word no. If she didn’t want to complicate things with sex, he’d deal with it.
It’s only for a few months.
And the kid?
Logan grimaced. He’d be gone all day, beginning before dawn and coming home around dinner, and sometimes he’d have to go back out after that. Between his camp and the ranch, he’d be spending most of his waking hours working. He could handle the baby. Had to. He wasn’t letting his dad get the land. And he liked the idea of helping Becky secure custody. That was a sore spot with him, given that his own mom had lost custody of him.
Decided, he headed into the house.
Jiggy raced to the door, wiggling all over. “Dude, man up.” Yet he squatted down and petted the little guy while thinking about what he’d say to her.
“You’re home early.” Becky walked out from the hallway.
Logan’s hand froze on the dog’s neck. His body twanged as he drew his gaze up her bare calves and toned thighs to her black shorts. The waistband rested on her hip bones leaving a strip of her light colored skin bare. It took him long seconds to get enough brainpower to work out why her stomach was exposed. She’d tied a knot in the white T-shirt. He didn’t care what her reason for doing it was, he fully approved.
“I was cleaning windows and didn’t expect you home yet.” She fidgeted with the knot resting at the curve of her waist. “The shirt got in my way.” The material released from the coil and fell around her hips.
Straightening, he grinned. “Not complaining.”
“You were staring.”
True. How could he not? She brought out the sexy in window washing. But was she flustered or upset? She’d relaxed in the last few days. Logan circled the big chair and couch to stop in front of her. He was close enough to see the tiny green speckles hidden in her brown eyes. “You stared at me when I was in a towel.” Not that he’d minded.
She rolled her eyes. “Only because you were practically posing.”
“I don’t pose.”
“You leaned against the doorjamb and flexed. I know all about posing, cowboy. You. Were. Posing.”
Logan was entranced by her confident teasing. She was also right, but it’d take a superheated branding iron to get him to admit it. “That so? And what makes you so experienced? Do you strike a lot of poses while cleaning offices? Or at play dates with your daughter?”
Becky’s chin shot up and amusement tugged at her full lips. “Is that a challenge?”
His talk with her could wait a few minutes. This was too much fun. “Oh yeah.” What would she do? He had to fight the familiar urge to touch her cheek and stroke all her skin to learn the angles and planes that made her face so interesting. Becky made him laugh one minute, then turned him inside out the next. She had a sweet sexiness he was coming to crave. Being around her chased out the darkness in him.
“Accepted. Stand back, I’m going to need room to work.”
Did she now? Logan moved back to the table, leaving Becky in the walkway between the table and living room. “Have at it, darlin’.” He leaned his ass against the thick table, crossing one booted foot over the other. She looked cute in that hot girl next door way with her ponytail, loose T-shirt, and shorts.
Becky kicked off her worn athletic shoes, pulled the ends of the T-shirt up, and retied it.
Logan sucked in a breath. That flash of taut skin stretched across her slight curve of a belly made him swallow. His view was disrupted when Becky pulled the band out of her hair, leaned over at the waist and shook her head. Then she flipped her hair up and it fell around her in streams of wild honey.
His heart skipped a beat. What happened to that sweet, slightly embarrassed girl? This woman was…wow. The transformation stunned him. He opened his mouth to say something when she started to move.
The words lodged in his chest. Becky held her head high, threw her shoulders back, outlining her full breasts beneath that shirt. Her hips rolled with sinuous grace as she glided across the floor on gorgeous long legs. Once she reached the kitchen island, she stopped as if she hit the end of a runaway. Putting one hand on her hip, she arched her body in a provocative pose and flashed him a dazzling smile. She stayed that way for several seconds.
Logan jerked upright, his pulse galloping. Lust and need coiled low in his groin. It took everything he had to stay where he was. He wanted to touch her. Hell, he wanted to strip her naked and discover every inch of the woman who just a few minutes ago had been self-conscious about having her stomach exposed. Now she was brazenly working it. Which was the real Becky? He hoped it was both—sweet and spicy.
She dropped her arm, sliding into an agile turn, and creating ripples in her golden blond hair that couldn’t be an accident. She walked back.
Right at him.
Her breasts bounced, hips swayed, and that smile never once lost its glorious perfection. Total high-fashion model and girl next door rolled into one breath-stealing, hard-on inducing package. She coasted to a stop when her bare toes nearly touched the tips of his boots.
The sultry scent of honeysuckle wafted from her. Tilting her head up she said, “With more than ten years in beauty pageants, I know posing when I see it.”
Sweat popped out beneath his shirt and his dick swelled. It wasn’t just the sensuality of her walk and pose, but the way she’d just put him in his place. “You win.” His voice came out low and rough. For days they’d been dancing around this desire between them. He could almost see the streaks of electricity arcing between them.
Her flawless smile melted, and her gaze locked onto his. “What’s my prize?”
Those three breathy words fried his brain until all that remained was fiery need. Logan buried his hands in her heavy, silken hair. “A kiss.” Something he was supposed to do niggled at his brain while he waited to see if she’d say no, but he couldn’t focus on it. Didn’t want to. All that mattered was Becky and he stroked the soft skin of her cheek.
The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered, and her full lips parted. She leaned into him.
That simple gesture of her trust pulled him to her with a magnetic force. Her warm breath merged with his as he brushed his lips over her soft full mouth, catching her taste with the lightest touch of his tongue. The contact ripped away the veneer he kept ruthlessly in place.
The raw, damaged man in him exploded to the forefront. Logan wrapped an arm around her waist, that strip of bared skin branded his arm. He lifted and hauled her against his body. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He searched her face. No fear there, only desire turning this girl-next-door sweetheart into his brazen beauty.
Her tongue darted out, wetting her full lips like an invitation then retreating.
Buzzing ramped up in his ears, a need so visceral he could actually hear it. That mouth, oh yeah, he wanted Becky’s mouth, and the moans he hoped to entice from her. Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth over her damp, soft lips. Her taste teased him mercilessly, powering a fierce hunger to delve in and discover every sweet secret of this woman in his arms. Determined to keep control, to give her the best first-prize kiss in the history of kissing, he licked a slow sweep over the tantalizing bow of her bottom lip.
Not enough, he had to have more.
Capturing her lip, he gently sucked. Then he left her mouth, kissing across her silky skin, over the curve of her jaw to the sensitive spot by her ear and confessed the truth:
“Losing never felt or tasted so damned good.”
…
A tiny warning sounded in Becky’s head.
Are you doing it again? Jumping too fast in your desperate need to be loved?
But she’d never experienced this intensity. Her heart pounded, her nipples pebbled against Logan’s slab of a chest while his arms held her securely. The roaring in her head drowned out that thin voice of caution. Latching onto his shoulders, she turned her mouth to his.
His lips covered hers, and he licked deep into her mouth, exploring and commanding. She kissed him back, tangling her tongue with his, the rough wet texture shivering through her. She’d never get enough.
A low growl of approval rumbled in his chest, teasing her nipples. Tiny shocks shot straight down to her core. A hot ache bloomed there, throbbing. Spreading his hand over her lower back, he stroked his thumb across her skin and her nerves lit on fire. That ache intensified. She mewled, trying to get closer.
Logan slid a hand over her hip, hooking her thigh over his hip. She shuddered, the feel of his hand like a sensual brand searing through her pants.
He rolled his hips, and the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her core. Hot streaks of wild pleasure blasted her nerve endings. All the while he kissed her, his mouth consuming hers. Every part of Logan filled, surrounded, and cradled her, coaxing pleasure and need higher and higher. Unable to catch her breath, she broke the kiss.
Too much, too soon. She’d practically climbed up Logan, riding him. Reality crashed over her with hot waves of shame. She’d only known him for days and acted like a…
Gold-digging whore.
The accusation from Dylan’s parents screamed in her head. Scrambling out of his arms, she backed up, desperate to escape.
…
Confused by the sudden shift in Becky, Logan released her. “Hey, what’s wrong?” God, had he hurt her?
She shook her head, refusing to look at him. “I…uh…Sophie’s awake.” She whipped around, heading to the hallway.
He didn’t hear anything, but he sure as hell could see the humiliation burning her face. “Becky, wait.”
“I can’t.” She vanished into the bedroom she shared with Sophie and shut the door.
Logan followed; he couldn’t let her go like this. What had happened that caused her to run, her face stained with embarrassment? Leaning his forehead against the closed door, he said softly, “Becky, sweetheart, talk to me.”
Nothing. The utter silence on the other side of the door tore at his heart. Jesus, could he have screwed this up anymore? He’d come home wanting to discuss helping each other out with a temporary marriage. Instead he kissed her, and obviously crossed some line, upsetting her.
“My father is expecting me at his house for dinner, but I’m not leaving you unless you talk to me. Tell me you’re okay.” Now wasn’t the time to discuss anything else.
“Go to your dad’s.”
He let out a sigh, part relief that she’d at least spoken to him, and part regret. He didn’t want to leave her. “I can cancel.” Right now, he didn’t give a shit about his dad. He needed to find out what had upset her and fix it. “I’ll cook us dinner and—”
“Please go. I’m fine. I just need some space.”
Logan leaned back against the wall. What should he do? Everyone needed space, he understood that all too well.
“I’ll go, but I’ll be home later tonight if you want to talk.”