Tia

 

I shrug my shoulders at Logan. I thought we had something going there, and I hope he understands that’s what I was talking about. It’s just my dad’s way. I sense rather than see Logan behind me as I follow Dad back to the main part of the station where they are holding the party. When one of the crew stops to talk to Dad, I carry right on, going through the big double doors.

Logan is right behind me. “Hey, Tia. Want to go for a walk?” he whispers in my ear.

I smile at him and nod, my heart beating a mile a minute at his closeness.

“You got a coat?”

“A wrap thing.”

“There’s snow on the ground.”

“I know.” Can I say I don’t care? Can I ask him to keep me warm? No. I can’t do that. But the truth is, I don’t care, and I want him to put his arms around me.

“We won’t go far then. Just say if you’re cold, and we’ll come right back to the party.”

I grab my wrap and follow him out before Dad can spot me. Logan takes my hand, and we head quickly for the little park about fifty yards from the station. I slide a bit on the ice in my strappy heels, but his hand steadies me. By the time we make it, I’m shivering with cold and anticipation.

“Hey, you’re freezing. We should go back. Bad idea,” he says.

“No. Good idea.”

“Right then.” He only has a cotton shirt and a thin suit jacket himself, but he doesn’t seem to feel the cold at all. He takes the suit jacket off, drapes it around my shoulders and then pulls the lapels toward him so I’m right up against him.

And suddenly his lips are on mine, and I’m not feeling the cold of the bleak winter night one bit. All I’m aware of is his mouth, the spicy scent of his cologne, his skin against mine, and his hard, hot body through the thin layers of our clothes.

Our lips and then our mouths take over and find their own rhythm, plundering, retreating, opening, exploring in the kind of all-consuming, take-your-breath-away kiss I never experienced before. I didn’t even know kisses like that existed outside books and movies.

When we break apart to catch our breath, I feel like I’m gawking at him like a schoolgirl who’s never been kissed before.

Before either of us says anything, we’re back kissing again, as if trying to work out if the first time was for real and whether this time can possibly live up to that.

It can. It’s just as good.

We’re outside much longer than I think either of us planned, and something changes inside me with those kisses. Being tied down by a guy, at least by this guy in particular, starts to seem like not such a bad idea after all.

But I can’t let myself get carried away. It’s a Christmas party. These things happen when people get in the festive spirit. It’s pretty well accepted that the unlikeliest pairs get together at times like this. Don’t they call that beer goggles or something? It’s just an alternative to photocopying their butts and having to explain themselves to the HR department on the Monday following the company party.

The only thing is, I don’t think either of us is experiencing the effects of too much drink. Call me a stalker, but I’ve been watching Logan, and I haven’t seen him drink more a couple of small bottles of beer all night, and I’ve only had two glasses of wine.

“We’d better go back. Your dad will be looking for you,” Logan says, giving me another hug that makes me feel all warm inside, his hands holding me at the waist under his jacket. “But I want to take you out properly. Just the two of us and without freezing you half to death.”

“I’d like that.”

He smiles and kisses my nose. “I’ll have to check when I can get out. I’m assuming you know about my situation at home already…”

My heart drops. “You’re married.” I hold my breath. Suddenly I feel the biting cold again. I pull away from him and hand him back his jacket. My worst nightmare. I know how it feels to be betrayed. Not another sleazy Simon.

“I was. Not anymore.”

“But why…?” Did they break up because he cheated on his wife? I don’t like that idea either.

“Long story. I don’t want you to get pneumonia by keeping you out here. Meet me tomorrow?”

I nod. “Okay then, I’ll meet you.” I hope it’s not what I think. But the spell is broken, anyway.

And even more broken when we see Dad coming over, just as Logan takes my hand and starts to speak again.