Chapter 6

Holding a wedding in a back yard sounded easy. Logan found out quick enough that wasn’t the case. He helped Troy install an arbor, because Celeste wanted to be married beneath a “leafy bower.” The florist better bring extra vines. They dug a fishpond, because Troy’s fiancée wanted a water feature with live fish. After accompanying his friend to a local nursery to pick up flagstone, they laid a walkway from the back patio to the arbor and fishpond. 

Logan actually welcomed the physical labor because it kept his mind off fretting about when Jen would call. When it came to her wedding, would she have so many requests?

She would have more. He was certain.

The woman had drawn up a ten-page contract that essentially said they agreed to procreate and then part ways. He preferred not to get caught up in details. That tendency had gotten him into trouble in the past, so maybe Jen was smart to be specific and make her expectations clear.

Their disastrous date three nights ago had ended with an intriguing question. Was he still interested in her offer? He should’ve said no. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he said yes. Granted, he was hot for her, and there was the windfall he would get afterwards. But there was more to it than that—and the more was what scared him.

If he had half a brain, he’d mute his cell phone.

Logan pulled off his T-shirt. Despite the mild temperatures, he was sweating. He wondered if it was possible to sweat out this obsession he had with a woman he barely knew.

Jen confused the hell out of him. Taking him to that crowded bar when she obviously fought agoraphobia. One of his cousins had the same problem and he recognized the signs. He wouldn’t have taken her inside if she’d just told him about her fear of crowds. Even after she nearly passed out on the dance floor, she wouldn’t admit what caused it. She swung from chilly to warm, from affectionate to distant, and then reeled him in again by agreeing to have sex with him. Those were her words. Have. Sex. 

Then she hadn’t invited him inside. Instead, she told him she would call. When he tried to kiss her, she turned her head, and his lips landed on her cheek. A granny kiss, that was all she allowed, even though she committed to sleeping with him at some point. Awkward didn’t begin to describe how he felt when he walked away and left her at the front door.

He’d be flying home bright and early Sunday. Today was Thursday. The wedding would take place Saturday. That didn’t leave much time.

Troy filled in the spaces around the last flagstones with mulch, then straightened and stretched. He tanned rather than burned in the sun, but his shirt was just as wet. “Man, I’m done for the day. Let’s grab a beer and sit down.”

“Sounds good.” Logan trailed after his longtime friend, traipsing over the path they’d just created and up the steps leading to the patio. He reached into a cooler and snagged a cold bottle.

“What’s this?” He examined the unfamiliar label.

“Local microbrew. Celeste loves their amber ale.”

“As long as its beer, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, I’m not picky either. But it is good.” Troy used an opener to pop off the metal top, then did the honors for Logan. “She’s a real connoisseur when it comes to beer and wine, and other things I better not talk about.”

Those other things had been good enough to convince Troy to leave Texas and move to Georgia.

Logan chuckled as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “You got it bad, Tex.”

“Look who’s talkin’. That’s the fourth time you’ve checked your phone in the past two hours.”

Logan set the phone on the table next to an Adirondack chair. “Don’t want to sit on it,” he muttered. He wasn’t admitting that he’d been about to check to see if he’d somehow missed Jen’s call. Four times? Really? Something was seriously wrong. He hadn’t been this distracted by a woman since...

Wait, Jen wasn’t like Kelsey, other than wanting something from him, and at least Jen was more honest about her motives. She hadn’t led him to believe what they shared was anything more than a business arrangement.  He’d been the one pushing for more.

He vowed to stop pushing. If she wanted to seal their bargain, she’d call. If not, it might turn out to be a blessing. He’d be out the money, but he wouldn’t have to live with wondering about a child he helped make.

Troy flopped into a nearby chair and took a swig. “Um, addictive.”

“That good?” Logan took a drink. The ale did go down smooth. “Tasty, but I wouldn’t call it addictive.”

“Not the beer. Women.”

“Ah...” Logan settled against the seat back. “Yep, you’re a hopeless case.”

His friend nodded like it didn’t bother him to admit his dependency. He seemed proud of it, even. Logan didn’t intend to be so besotted, even with his future wife. Whoever that might be. Look at what happened to his father after his mother died. His dad had turned hard, cold. Bitter. Too much dependence on a woman could ruin a man.

“You need to bring Jen over. We’d like to get to know her better.”

“So would I,” Logan muttered under his breath. He didn’t elaborate when Troy gave him a questioning look. He couldn’t explain why he’d agreed to the arrangement between him and Jen, and he wasn’t comfortable talking about it. On the other hand, if she had a baby and Troy and Celeste knew it was his, they would be willing to feed him information.

No. He’d given Jen a promise not to interfere. He wouldn’t go back on his word.

He and Troy drank their beers, lapsing into silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like what he’d felt driving Jen home the other night. He hadn’t known what to say to her. She made it clear she didn’t welcome his questions or his concern, and acted like she was too strong to need it.

That’s what it was—an act. The few times she’d let down her guard, he’d gotten glimpses of her uncertainty and vulnerability. Enough to know she needed caring for more than she wanted to admit. That was the real Jen, the woman he felt drawn to.

Or maybe his soft heart was messing with his hard head. Something his brothers had warned him about. Something he usually guarded more carefully than he had over the past several days.

He took another long drink. Couldn’t help glancing at the phone, but he didn’t pick it up, and he damn sure wouldn’t obsess over it anymore. He would enjoy the evening and the time he had left with Troy and Celeste. If Jen called, she could wait.

His phone twanged the “Watermelon Crawl.” He’d set the ring tone for Jen’s number after seeing her dance. Damn, she was a natural, and her bold little move when she backed up to him and wiggled her ass had turned him on something fierce.

Troy laughed. “Great ring tone.”

The riff started over. He better not answer too fast. She’d think he was desperate.

But if he waited too long, she might hang up, and he wasn’t certain she would leave a voicemail. He grabbed the phone. “Hey, Jen—”

“Logan! You have to get over here. Now!” Her shout damn near pierced his eardrum.

He shot to his feet. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Come quick.” She wasn’t screaming anymore. Her voice trembled with anxiety, verging on panic, making his heart pound. Whatever the hell was going on, he couldn’t stand here and chat with her about it. For all he knew, she’d cut herself and was bleeding or something.

“On my way.” He stuffed the cell phone into his back pocket and took off at a run, not bothering to explain. There wasn’t time. If he needed to call 911, he had his phone.

Logan raced around the shrubs he’d trimmed two days ago. Her gate was open, so he let himself in the back yard and thundered across the patio to the sliding glass doors. The dog’s wild barking sent a rush of adrenaline through him.

Grabbing the outside handle, he tried the door. Locked, of course. He hammered his hand on the glass. He’d use a chair to break it if he had to.

On the other side of the door, Freckles raced back and forth, yapping like crazy, although her tail wagged, whatever that meant. She always wagged her tail, even when she sounded like she’d bite your head off.

Jen appeared, dressed in a big sweatshirt, bare legs, looking a little sleepy, like she’d just woken up, or she was groggy, or drugged. Shit, an overdose?

She pulled the security pin from the top of the door, then snapped open the lock.

Logan dragged the door open and rushed inside. He pulled her into an embrace. “I’m here, baby. It’s all right.”

His brain caught up with the wild emotion careening through him and cautioned him to handle her with care. She could be hurt. He kept hold of her arms, in case she might be weak, and checked her over. Didn’t look injured. A flushed face could mean fever.

“What’s wrong?” His voice came out sharp due to his concern.

Her astonished gaze fell from his face to his chest. “You...you don’t have a shirt on.”

He’d forgotten to grab it, and it was soaked with sweat anyway. “You told me to hurry.”

The dog stopped barking and racing around in circles and began sniffing at his leg. Freckles displayed no sign of distress.

Jen’s cheeks were bright, though not unnaturally rosy. No bloody knives lying around, no glass on the floor, nothing broken as far he could see.

“Is there some reason you called me in a panic?”

She swallowed hard before nodding.

“Do I have time to take my shoes off? They’re muddy.” His shorts were dirty too. But he didn’t think she’d appreciate it if he shucked them along with his shoes.

She waited long enough for him to take off his sneakers. Then she grabbed his hand. “Come with me.”

“Yes, ma’am...” He allowed her to guide him through the hallway toward the stairs. Her palm felt so smooth, incredibly soft. Was the rest of her skin like that? She didn’t seem willing to stop long enough for him to find out.

Logan dragged his mind back to solving the mystery that had put her in such a panic. “Is your toilet overflowing?”

“No, I didn’t call you over here to fix my toilet.” Her voice had a wry edge to it.

She started up the steps to the second floor.

Well, hell. She hadn’t called him over here for no reason. Nor could he believe she was so eager to have sex with him she’d phoned in a panic—after waiting three days.

He stood at the base of the stairs, riveted by the sight of her swaying backside, then ran to catch up. She still hadn’t explained why she’d panicked. However, it appeared that whatever had unnerved her wasn’t life threatening.

Logan’s tension drained enough he could focus on something other than impending doom. Two large works of art on the stairway wall caught his attention. Vivid landscapes with abstract, oversized flowers, painted on glass panes of what looked like old windows. “I like these paintings. Where’d you get them?”

“My friend is an artist. I love her work and those are my favorite pieces. She goes to estate sales and antique shops and scours abandoned buildings to find old windows. I’m not sure how she makes the colors so vivid, unless it has something to do with how she paints on the back of the glass.”

The stairs ended at a landing that overlooked a three-story marbled entryway lit by a wrought-iron chandelier. A loud tick-tock from a grandfather clock echoed in the cavernous space.  “You’ve got a beautiful home, and a nice blend of modern and antiques.”

“Eclectic.”

“Right. The house I grew up in looks like the set of Bonanza.”

“Is that what you like? Western décor?”

“Some of it, I guess. But it’s not my house. If I were to build, I’d make it different.”

“How different?”

“Haven’t really thought about it. I’ve been focused on finishing vet school. Expect I’ll settle somewhere near the ranch. Details beyond that are fuzzy.”

“I’ve had my future planned out from the time I was twelve.”

“Twelve?” He released a laugh, amused, but not really surprised. “At that age, I wasn’t thinking past what I wanted to eat for dinner.”

She pushed open a door and he followed her into a huge bedroom. Light shone through oversized windows with decorative leaded glass. He barely saw what else was in the room as his gaze fixed on the bed.

Blankets and sheets were thrown back. Pillows lay scattered as if she’d just crawled out of bed. Sleeping in on a day off?

She whirled around and went for the waistband of his shorts. She’d unbuttoned the first button before he snapped out of his shock.

His hands went to hers, enveloping them, stopping her frantic tearing at his buttons. God almighty, she’d lost her mind. “Jen, what the hell—?”

She looked up, tossing loose dark hair out of her eyes. Her hands were trembling. “We-we have to do this now.”

“That’s why you called me over here like the house was on fire?”

“It’s the right time. I’m ovulating, and there’s a only a short window of opportunity.”

“Okay, I get the technical stuff.” He drew her to him and slipped his arms around her waist. God knows, he’d been eager for this, and based on how his dick was reacting to her pawing, he’d have no problem doing it as fast as she wanted. But one look at her wild expression and the fear in her eyes told him she wasn’t anywhere near ready. Not to mention, he stunk to high heaven.

“We can afford to take a little time, you know, to set the mood. Let me wash off. I’ve been working in the yard. I’m sweaty and dirty.”

She gripped his upper arms tight, her expression strained. “We don’t have much time. Besides, this isn’t about getting into the mood. I just need you to...to impregnate me.”

Her blunt demand cooled the heated blood pulsing through his veins.

A stud, that’s all he was to her, and he had damn sure better remember it.

“Fine, I’ll do the honors—after I get a quick shower.”

“No, no, there isn’t time. We need to do this.” She backed away from him, practically yelling. That, more than anything, told him she wasn’t ready. Her way of dealing with fear was to put her head down and batter her way through the obstacle like a Billy goat. If he did her bidding, it wouldn’t hurt him, but it would sure as hell hurt her.

He responded in a controlled tone. “Jen, I need to be clean, and you...you need to calm down.”

The flush on her face deepened. “I am calm.”

Logan couldn’t help smiling at her outright lie. “No, you’re not. You’re anxious and scared.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him. “And you’re being a patronizing asshole.”

“Maybe. But this patronizing asshole doesn’t want to hurt you. If you aren’t ready for me, I will.”

Jen marched to the bedside table and picked up a tube. “Lubricating gel.”

Of all the... Damn if she didn’t confuse him one minute and make him laugh the next. “You got this all planned out, haven’t you?”

“What do you think?”

This was the same woman who had her life charted from the age of twelve. She’d probably printed out instructions on intercourse.

“I think I need a shower.” He strode through the doorway that led into the master bathroom and stripped off his clothes before heading into a walk-in shower. He wasn’t getting into bed with her stinking so bad he offended himself. Turning the knob, he waited until the water warmed, then stood beneath the rainfall, found the soap and washed.

A shower would cool him off. He refused to be rushed. Their deal was that she would go to bed with him and they’d make a baby the old-fashioned way. That didn’t mean wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

He would take whatever enjoyment he could take, and give her as much pleasure as she’d let him, and their time together, however brief, wouldn’t be a bad memory for either of them.