Chapter 11
Banner
One brilliant thing about New York? Everything is open late, and that worked perfectly for my defensive shopping last night.
When I walk onto the plane taking me to Gold Haven, I’ve got one more suitcase than I left with, packed with enough scandalous lingerie to destroy any man’s inhibitions.
Do I think I really need it to make sure I have no competition for Logan?
Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fucking fabulous, and that man is lucky to have me.
I remind myself of that no fewer than eighty times on the flight. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to leave anything to chance.
Also with me—more lube. Just in case.
Brown Town, here we come.
I’m a woman on a mission when I step off my last flight at six o’clock at night, annoyed it took me an entire freaking day to get here since I made my plans at the last minute. As soon as I leave the rental car desk, I’m headed for my first destination. Logan’s shop.
He’s never going to know what hit him. My skirt is short, my heels are tall, and my hair, skin, and nails are perfect from the pampering I managed to sneak in this week.
I pull into the parking lot an hour and a half later, mostly because I was so busy singing along to every kick-ass female anthem on my playlist that I missed the turn and went fifteen miles in the wrong direction.
But no one needs to know that little detail.
The lights are still on, and Logan’s truck is parked in its normal spot alongside the building. No other cars remain in the lot.
I pull out my phone and switch it out of airplane mode. I told myself I kept it there all day because I was worried about the safety of my flights and obviously because of the FAA regulations, but that’s total bull.
I didn’t trust myself not to answer what must be at least a few messages from Logan. I wanted this to be a surprise. Like when Logan thought I might be pregnant, this is a discussion that needs to happen in person.
A few text messages pop up from him immediately, and they’re progressively more . . . let’s call it assertive.
MY SEXY MAN: Bruce, call me.
MY SEXY MAN: Seriously, babe. Call me.
MY SEXY MAN: CALL ME.
MY SEXY MAN This radio silence shit will not fly. Call me, Bruce.
MY SEXY MAN: Banner Regent, don’t even try to dodge me. I know where you are, and I will come to you and show you how a real man handles this situation.
A smile spreads over my face. I’ve come to terms with a few things in the last twenty-four hours, and one of them is that I don’t care if I’m the first one to say those words I’ve been holding back. I love Logan Brantley, and I’m not going to let another day go by without telling him. To his face.
After I park, I slide out of the car, careful not to pull a Britney and flash anyone my vag because I’m going commando under this skirt, and strut my ass up to the entrance.
I push on the door that opens into the waiting room, but it doesn’t budge. Locked. Well, dammit, that’s not part of my plan. I bang on it, but no one comes. The beat of whatever rock song he’s listening to is thumping through the walls.
I pull my phone out of my wristlet and text him back.
BANNER: Open the damn door.
A response pops up in seconds.
MY SEXY MAN: What door?
BANNER: I’m waiting.
That’s when the music volume drops and I get my first real look at Logan after three weeks. Damn, he’s sexy, especially when he’s angry.
He’s still wiping his dripping hands on a rag and shoving it into his pocket when he stalks into the waiting room to twist the lock and yank the door open.
“The next time you wait twenty-four hours to answer me and have me thinking all the awful fucking things that could’ve happened to you in New York, I swear I will put you over my lap and spank some goddamned sense into you.”
I should probably be annoyed, but his threat turns me on more than anything. I’m also not about to let him forget how this whole situation came about.
“Maybe, just maybe, you might want to think twice the next time you answer your door in a towel to a woman who wants your dick.”
“I wouldn’t give a single fuck if she showed up naked at my door on her knees. The only woman I want is you.”
Lust and adrenaline burn through my veins as I smile. “I know.”
His eyes widen a fraction. “What do you mean, you know?”
“If you feel half of what I’m feeling, then you’re so in love with me, you wouldn’t notice if she twerked on your dick in the middle of church.”
“You’re in love with me.” The words come out slow and measured.
“You’re the best man I’ve ever met, Logan Brantley. Of course I am.”
He pulls me inside and locks the door behind me. Heat burns in his gaze. “Say it.”
“I love you.”
Logan’s lips crush down on mine before I’m finished speaking them, and he pours every bit of emotion running through him into me.
I pull my head back. “Now, you say it.”
“I fucking love you, Banner.”
He lifts me up, and my legs wrap around his waist instinctively.
“I brought the lube,” I whisper as he carries me into the shop and sets me on the unfinished hood of a car.
“You’re going to kill me, woman.”
“Only in the best way possible.”