Chapter 15

Valentine

Well, if there is one glaring, fundamental difference I’ve found between Logan and all the other men I’ve dated, is that he’s very clear in what his intentions are. There are no vague promises that can be reneged on or overinflated proclamations that make you doubt his goals.

Logan tells it like it is, looking you directly in the eye, or perhaps while tweaking your nipple to make a point, but when he pulled me out of Sarah’s house I was not left with one single question about his intentions.

Now there’s nothing wrong with a little mystery, but I have to say, this take-control attitude he has appeals to me, and being honest just with myself for now, I was ready to walk out of Sarah’s door with him to watch him follow through on everything he told me would happen today.

I’ll admit, the plane was a surprise and I liked that as well. Logan still has some mystery about him.

When he brings the plane to a stop, the bottoms of the floats scraping loudly along the rocks that line the shore, he cuts the engine, and removes his headset. I do the same.

With efficiency and even grace for someone so large, Logan disembarks and helps me out onto the shore, and then proceeds to set up a homey camp for our lunch. He pulls two folding canvas chairs out of the back of the plane, a decent-sized cooler that holds our food and then doubles as a table, and another bag with plates and utensils.

“Sit,” Logan says as he sets up our picnic lunch. It’s totally high-handed, but it’s also done in a gentlemanly tone to denote that he’ll get everything ready.

So I watch him as he pulls out a green salad with grilled chicken, fruit salad, and cookies. Then he pours diet cola into red plastic cups, makes me a plate and hands it to me, and I settle back while he dishes up his own food.

We’re quiet as we eat, and I take my time to study the surroundings. I’ve never seen such raw, natural beauty in my life. I’m wealthy and have the means to travel, and I do quite a bit. But never to a place like this. Never even thought to travel somewhere as wild and remote as this until Jeremy suggested it. I’ve been to Paris, Vienna, Rome, and Zurich, basking in European culture and history. I’ve taken charming trips to Vermont to ski in the winter, and I’ve been snorkeling in Jamaica. On a whim I’ve flown to Chicago because there’s a store that had a coat I really wanted, and I’ve been to LA to see movie premieres due to my family’s connections.

But not one single thing about all of the amazing places I’ve been could ever compare to what is laid out all around me right now. Just miles and miles of rich green forest and mountains tipped in glistening snow that sparkles like diamonds. The water is a blue unlike anything I’ve seen before. It’s not that greenish blue of the tropics, but almost a sapphire blue that actually doesn’t look real it’s so beautiful.

And as I’m chewing on a piece of chicken, I almost choke as I watch a large bird swoop down from above, its claws hitting the water hard and fast, before its massive wings are stroking against the air violently to lift back up again. In its talons is a massive thrashing fish—a salmon I assume, since that’s what most people come here to fish for.

“Whoa,” I say softly as I watch it fly away. When my face lowers, I find Logan watching me with a satisfied smile on his face. This should irritate me but it doesn’t. “What?”

“I’m just glad you’re getting to see things that you wouldn’t ordinarily get to see where you’re from.”

“I once saw a mugger swoop down on an older lady and grab her purse,” I offer, to show that I’m not without experience.

Logan chuckles. “You got me there. That’s not something I’ve seen, even working the Seattle streets.”

“It is so beautiful here,” I say on a contented sigh as I continue to look around while we finish our lunches. “Thank you for bringing me.”

Logan nods, eats more of his salad, although I notice he tends to eat more chicken than lettuce. When he puts his plate down on the cooler that serves as our table, he settles back into his canvas chair and stretches his long legs out in front of him. Lacing his fingers together and settling his hands on his flat belly he asks, “So what’s your story, Valentine? I know you’re from New York and you came here not to appreciate the Alaskan wilderness but to appreciate the abundance of men.”

“That’s true,” I tell him, not sugarcoating my original intentions at all. I’ve told him that from the start it was my intention to date. Granted, I’d changed that intention after I was intimate with Logan, but then he went and ruined that, so now I’m not sure what in the hell my goals are during my remaining time here.

“What is your life like back in New York?” he asks, and I’m extremely confused, because I thought this would be about the time he started to grovel as he’d promised he’d do this morning.

“Logan…does it really matter what my life is like back there?” I ask him softly. “I mean, I appreciate you bringing me out here and stuff, but is there really any reason for us to try to get to know each other better?”

Pushing up from his relaxed pose in his seat, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I want to know more about you. I think you’re beyond intriguing. You say you came here to sample all the men, but I don’t think that’s really you.”

“You know nothing about me,” I say with irritation.

“Which is why I just asked you about your life back in New York,” he points out calmly.

I just blink at him for the circular way he just brought me around, and it pisses me off that he led me there without any real effort. It’s almost as if I wanted to be led around by him.

Shaking my head, I say, “Listen…you’re a nice guy—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says as he holds his hands up, palms out to stop me. “Don’t even fucking go with the ‘nice guy’ brush-off. Clearly I’m not a nice guy, as I hurt your feelings to the point I can’t seem to make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to make up anything—”

“You see, I don’t think I’m really all that great with women,” Logan interrupts, and that statement is so surprising I snap my mouth shut. Despite him standing me up, it’s been my impression he’s pretty damn awesome with women. “I told you I only had one really serious relationship, and it wasn’t all that serious because we didn’t have any qualms about parting ways. And since then…well, I just don’t have a lot of experience.”

I cock my eyebrow at him in pure disbelief. What we did in his bed indicates he has a lot of experience.

Logan chuckles and clarifies, “I’m talking about the dating part. The getting to know someone part. The caring for someone part.”

“Because you are really damn good in bed,” I mutter, so at least I’m being truthful about his good qualities.

“I’ve been told that a time or two,” he says.

I do not like the way a surge of jealousy flows through me over that, which is utterly ridiculous. Who Logan fucks or when he fucks them or how often or how many orgasms or—

“Valentine,” Logan says softly, cutting into my thoughts. Still leaning forward in his chair and looking at me intently with those blue eyes. “I fucked up the other day. You told me you were here to date the locals. You and I were intimate and it was beyond amazing. You had not been intimate with the others. I therefore assumed that when you agreed to go out with me again, that there would be no other dates. It was a clear lack of communication on my part, particularly when I started listening to the gossip. I should have asked you straight up. Should have asked you what your intentions were with me and the others around here. I didn’t and I acted like an asshole by blowing you off, and for that I am really, really sorry. It was a stupid mistake I will not make again. It’s my hope you’ll forgive me and at the least we can be friends again.”

He stops and looks at me expectantly, clearly wanting to know if his words made an impact. And they most certainly have. As sad as it is to admit it, in my entire dating life, I’ve never had a man apologize to me with such genuine sincerity. I’ve never had a man shoulder 100 percent of the burden of fault. Usually the men I’ve been with want to pass off at least some culpability in a classic move of deflection.

But not Logan.

He just laid it all out with complete transparency and made it clear that I was the one wronged and he was sorry for it. How can I not forgive that? How can I not be impressed by that? How can I not give him a second chance?

“I come from money,” I tell him, and he blinks in surprise that these are my next words to him after his massive apology. But his eyes immediately brighten with interest to learn something about me, so he grabs his cup of cola and settles back down into his chair. “And when I say money, I mean a lot of money.”

“Where’s the money from?” he asks conversationally.

“Capital investments,” I say with a shrug. “I’ve had access to my trust fund since I was twenty-one, right after I graduated from Columbia.”

“What was your degree?”

“Arts and humanities,” I tell him with a sheepish smile.

“What is that?”

I shrug. “It’s about the easiest degree I could get. Not even sure what I can do with it.”

“You’re no dummy,” he points out. “You graduated from Columbia. So I doubt the degree is useless.”

“Needed a college degree to get access to my trust fund,” I tell him without ducking my head shamefully. Because I am a little ashamed I’ve done nothing with my life other than live off my family’s money and write blog articles.

Logan cocks his head at me. “While you clearly have money and were a bit out of place when you arrived, I don’t see you as being snotty upper crust.”

“Oh, I come from a snotty upper-crust family,” I assure him. “I just chose to march to the beat of a different drum.”

“The rich socialite that dances on tabletops,” he says with an incline of his head.

For the moment, Logan knows my backstory, but he hasn’t pressed me on whether or not I work. I’d rather not get into my blog articles because he’d want to read them, and that would not go over well at all. Besides, I have no idea where this whole social experiment I’m performing is going for the long term. In fact, I’d have to say there’s not even a social experiment anymore.

Just yesterday, I was making plans to head back to New York, because for the first time, a man truly hurt my feelings. That was new to me, and I didn’t think I could stick around, date the hot lumberjacks or fisherman, and run into Logan on the streets. But now I think we’re back on track, and that means I’m staying.

I just don’t know what it means for me to be staying.

“Have you forgiven me?” Logan asks.

I settle back into my chair and smile at him. “Yes, I think I have.”

“Can I continue to see you?” he asks with a boyish smile, and there’s no way I’m going to say no to that.

“Yes,” I say simply.

“Tonight?” he pushes.

“Yes. Let’s start with dinner and see where things go,” I suggest graciously.

“Sounds perfect.” He smiles, and his eyes are alight with mischief and confidence that it will be more than just dinner. “But let’s just say hypothetically you end up back at my house, and say we were to get naked and do things to each other. Then I’m going to insist that from now on I’m the only one you’re doing that with.”

“You want to go steady with me?” I ask him sweetly, batting my eyelashes.

“I want you all to myself,” Logan says with a gruff voice. “Might as well spread it around town…you’re off-limits.”

“Many hearts will be broken,” I say with mock sympathy.

“And yet I don’t give a fuck,” Logan says as he pushes up out of his chair. I sit up straighter in mine as he rounds the cooler and comes to squat in front of me. His eyes are warm as he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me forward for a kiss.

A very sweet, gentle kiss.

When he pulls back, his hand squeezes my neck and murmurs, “I’m really, really sorry, Valentine. It won’t happen again.”

I nod and place my hand along the side of his neck. “I know. Let’s move forward.”

Logan leans in again, his expression serious. “I have no clue how long you’re going to be here, but your home is in New York. We know there’s an expiration date on this thing. So let’s make every day count, okay?”

The words expiration date cause my heart to cramp slightly but he’s right. I’m going back home to New York eventually.

But I just made an exclusive commitment to Logan, and thus my social dating experiment just ended. I officially have nothing to write about for my blog right now, so until something comes to mind, I’m thinking this has just turned into a vacation for me.

And because I’m rich and have no obligations for the near future, I could stay here for quite a while and enjoy my time with Logan.