Chapter 13

 

- LOGAN -

 

 

Exhaustion eats away at me as I plug in my cell phone to charge it and set it on the marred nightstand. The furniture in this hotel room could really use some updating, but I’m not one to complain. Compared to some of the places I’ve slept in my life, this is a five-star luxury resort.

Of course, I haven’t actually slept much here yet, just laid on the stiff king-size mattress, staring into the darkness and listening to the hum of the digital clock that’s probably been sitting on that nightstand since the late 1980s.

The only thing that is updated in the room is a flat screen TV on the wall, and I’m grateful for it since I spent plenty of last night watching yesterdays’ stock ticker scroll by and Cindy Crawford trying to get me to buy facial crème on an infomercial.

The TV should have lulled me to sleep, but it’s a trick that rarely works for me. My brain tunes out the chatter and replaces it with haunting memories.

I’m trying to focus on the good news of the day. I get to bring Kosmo home tomorrow morning. I miss my townhome, my hammock out back, and strangely enough, I really miss the little brunette who has moved in next door. It’s so easy to like Allie.

I pick up the flyer I found in the hotel lobby and look up a pizza place on Yelp to see if there are any good reviews. It’s bad enough being stuck here for another night, but there’s no need to be eating sub-par pizza.

I hear a knock at the door and don’t even stand up before shouting, “Who is it?” Probably some kind of turn-down service, but I’m surprised by that since last night I got in pretty late and didn’t find any little chocolate mints waiting for me on my pillow.

“Allie,” the voice on the other side of the door says. Immediately, my brain thinks the worst. It’s so damn predictable with me. Too many years in the SEALs on 24-7 recall were spent waiting for the other shoe to drop. I dart to the door and open it.

She’s struggling, juggling three bags of Chinese food, a six-pack of Sam Adams, and a bottle of Chardonnay. And there’s a deck of cards peeking out of the front pocket of her jeans.

“What are you doing here?”

She grins up at me, looking tentative and tempting at the same time. “Being spontaneous.”

Stepping to the side to let her in, her usual sweet scent is mixed with the familiar aroma of General Tso’s chicken, egg rolls, and chicken and broccoli. My mouth waters, more from the sight of her rather than from the smell of dinner. “You drove three hours just to bring me dinner?”

“Well, actually, I have my overnight bag in the car. I thought I’d sleep on your couch and snore for you. Make sure you got some sleep. I didn’t like the idea of you being here by yourself right now.”

My jaw goes slack. Honestly, that’s the nicest thing a woman’s ever done for me. And if my dick wasn’t as tired as the rest of me, it would probably be standing at full attention. But as it is, I just pull her toward me instinctively and let her softness meld into my frame. “That’s really nice of you, Allie.”

We just hold each other for a moment, and it’s surprisingly soothing.

When I finally let her go, even though I really don’t want to, she says, “So I brought dinner, drinks, and even some cards if you’re really desperate to kill some time tonight and the snoring doesn’t lull you to sleep.”

If I wasn’t so exhausted, I think there are about fifty things I’d rather do with her than play cards to kill time. And none of them are clothed.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” I tell her.

Batting her hand through the air, she blows me off. “’Course I did. You do plenty for me. It’s about time I did something for you.” Pulling out the containers from plastic bags, she fills the small hotel desk with food. “I got you chicken and broccoli like last time. And I got egg rolls because I couldn’t help noticing your mouth watering every time Hannah took a bite out of hers. You really shouldn’t deprive yourself like that.”

I grin at her know-it-all expression and realize that egg rolls aren’t the only thing I’ve been depriving myself of lately. “You notice everything, don’t you?”

“I have been told I’m an acute observer.”

I don’t know about acute. But she sure is cute. “I owe you dinner for this one.”

Stabbing a piece of chicken with a plastic fork, she gazes up at me. “Do not. You just bought me dinner the other night.”

“That was payback for the day at Buckeye Land.”

She laughs. “Like you really wanted to go to Buckeye Land.”

“I’ll admit, I didn’t. But watching Hannah have so much fun made it one of the best days I’ve had recently.” Of course, it hadn’t been just Hannah I had enjoyed watching that day. It was Allie.

“So did I succeed?”

“Succeed?”

“In making you less jaded. Remember? That was the deal. You make me more spontaneous, which obviously you did since I just drove three hours to eat Chinese with you. And I make you less jaded.”

I stare at her thoughtfully. I really want to say that she did. I know that’s what she wants to hear. But I’m still the same guy I was the day before I met her. If I were different, I would have slept like a baby last night. It’s just not in me to lie to her.

“I think I’m still a work-in-progress,” I confess.

She surprises me with a flash of a smile. “Good. Because if you didn’t need me anymore, then I might have to find someplace else to live. And I’m still officially homeless.”

I’m glad to not have disappointed her. However I choose to define Allie in my life, I can’t dodge the fact that she really does matter to me. “Any news from your real estate agent yet?”

“Nope, and I know she’s sick of me texting her. I just can’t resist, you know? I keep thinking a response from the bank might be waiting in her email and she just overlooked it.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d be the same way. That place is your dream.”

Her eyes are locked on mine as though I’m the only person who really understands the significance of that kennel. And maybe I am. I see it the same way she does—as a chance to really make a difference.

I’ve always had a mission to focus on. And without the SEALs, I’m grateful to latch onto someone else’s mission just for a small taste of what I once used to feel to the core.

Watching the faraway look she has in her eyes right now as she munches on a spice-laden chunk of meat, I worry a little about what might happen if she doesn’t get that foreclosure. The place is an eyesore, and pretty far off any main roads. But someone else might take an interest in it, someone with a lot more money than her. I don’t feel comfortable asking her what she offered on the place. My dad brought me up to believe that money, religion, and politics were cards you held close to your chest. But I’m guessing she couldn’t make a full-price offer.

I could have sweetened the pot, I consider. Money isn’t exactly lacking in my family and thanks to the money my grandfather settled on me after his death, I don’t have to wait in line to get it.

“You know, I’m not sure what you bid on the place, but if you need some money to bulk up your offer a bit, I’ve got some funds that aren’t tied up in anything right now.”

Her jaw drops about an inch. “Are you out of your mind? You’ve got five townhomes you’re trying to flip, Logan.”

“I can afford to invest in something worthwhile.”

Laughing, she wads up a napkin and tosses it my way. I think she’s being playful till she touches her finger to my chin to wipe a few pieces of rice off my five o’clock shadow. The feel of her skin on mine, even briefly, sends the faintest blip of awareness to my fatigued groin.

“You’re in serious need of help if you think dumping your money into a flailing nonprofit like mine is a worthwhile investment,” she retorts.

She’s ignoring my offer, and I let her. Being raised in my family, I can recognize stubborn pride when I see it. “You think it’s a worthwhile investment,” I point out. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Shaking her head, her smile is still wide on her face. “Because for me, it comes from here.” She knocks her chest with her fist. “When I walked into that dog pound for the first time, well, it was like my dad was talking directly to me. He always made a place in our home for any abandoned animals. Our house was crawling with secondhand dogs.”

I smile. “And what did his voice tell you?”

“Well, I was looking at all these dogs, trying to find the one that needed me the most, and I heard him whisper, ‘One is not enough.’ So I tapped on the worker’s shoulder as she’s taking out the poodle I had decided on, and I said, ‘I think I’d like more, please.’ She honest-to-God looked at me like I was nuts and said, ‘You want more? I got more,’ and handed me two more that were slated to get euthanized later that day. She didn’t want to see them die any more than I did. Then that night I called my boss and asked her how she set up her nonprofit.”

“When did you find out about the foreclosure?”

“Kim actually told me about that. She drives by it every day taking her son to pre-K. It was out of business before I even knew her, but when it started to fall into disrepair, she started eyeballing it for me, waiting for a ‘for sale’ sign to go up. It was on the market for a while at a price way too high for me. But when no one bought it, it turned into a foreclosure.”

“Seems like it was meant to be.”

“I’d like to think so.” She leans back in the weathered desk chair and sets down her fork. “So what about you, Logan? I’m always talking about my silly dreams. What kind of things are floating around in that serious looking head of yours?”

I take a moment to bite into my egg roll and my mouth absolutely waters as the fried goodness seeps into my mouth. As I chew, I think about what to say and realize I’m coming up dry. “I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing actually, Allie. Being a SEAL was everything to me. When my dad got sick, I let myself get caught up in the initial drama of it, you know. I can say I was trying to be supportive and helpful to my family, but I wonder if I was just using it all as a distraction from the fact that I don’t really know what the hell I’m going to do for the rest of my life.” In those few sentences, it was the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman. It was the most honest I had ever been with myself.

“Well, back when you were a SEAL, had you thought about what you’d do when you got out of the Navy? I mean, you can’t stay in forever, I’m guessing, right?”

“Yeah. I guess I thought I’d settle down in San Diego. Buy a nice sailboat. I figured I’d have a family by the time I retire, you know, have a couple kids that I can totally mess up the way my dad did for me.” I laugh.

“Your dad did a great job with you.” She gives me a playful pat on my thigh and the proximity of her hand to my crotch in that instant puts my hormones on high alert.

Shrugging as I pop the last bite of my egg roll into my mouth, I lean back in the stiff chair I had pulled up to the side of the desk, aching to stretch out on the bed. “He did a hell of a job with my brothers. The jury is still out on me.”

“How can you say that? You were a Navy SEAL. You protected our country. You got the Silver Star.”

“So, I was something great. Now I’m just some guy trying to flip a few townhomes.” I move to the bed, unable to suppress my need to get horizontal. “My brothers, however…”

Wiping her mouth on a napkin, she moves to stretch out alongside me. “I don’t care if your brothers are freaking millionaires, they can’t top your achievements.”

My brothers are freaking millionaires, I want to tell her. So am I, technically, though it’s something I don’t care to admit, even as I sip a Sam Adams and feel more relaxed than I have in days. Truth be told, JLS Heartland has kicked my family right into the status of billionaire, though my mother will never admit it and I tend to share her quiet view.

It’s only now that I realize how little Allie might know about me, unless she has been punching my name into a search engine. I know she’s aware that Ryan is acting CEO of JLS, but I doubt she’s pondered how a thirty-one-year old got to such a lofty position.

She’s just 24, I remember. Thirty-something probably sounds like the end of the road to her.

Some days it sure seems that way to me.

“Want your fortune cookie?” she asks, turning on her side.

“I think I’d rather not.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouts. “I’ll read yours.” Eagerly, she cracks open the cookie. “‘Be careful of the company you keep at night.’” She reads, her eyes lighting up.

“Does not. Give me that.” I pull it from her grasp. “Careful of the brunette next door. She brings disaster,’” I pretend to read. I feign a gasp. “My God, it’s what I’ve been thinking all along.”

She snorts, pulling it from my hand. “Liar. It says, ‘Tomorrow is a new day.’ Yeah, totally lame, huh? Fortune cookie messages are so vanilla these days. I swear the companies are afraid to put something scary in there for fear they’ll get sued.”

“Let me see yours.” I get up to retrieve it from the desk and immediately want to get back in a lying position. I’m that tired. I’ve gone without sleep before in the field without any problems. But the rush of adrenaline keeps me going. Right now, even the fact that an appealing woman is stretched out on my bed isn’t enough to combat the lure of sleep.

Cracking open the cookie, the message falls to the bed as I crash alongside her again. She pulls it off the timeworn bedspread.

“‘Yesterday is forgotten,’” she reads, and her face curls up in revulsion. “These totally suck. I want my money back.”

My laugh is low and weak as my eyelids start to droop. Downing the last of my Sam Adams, I roll to my side. “I’m beat.”

“You look it.”

“I’ll sleep on the love seat,” I offer.

“It doesn’t pull out into a bed?”

“Nope.”

“You’ll never fit. I’ll take it, or… I promise to not accost you if I can share the bed with you.” Her eyes are filled with laughter.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“Not a bit. You’ll hear me snoring better that way, anyway.”

“Your snores will be a gift from God to me, Allie.” I pull off my t-shirt. She averts her eyes as I drop my jeans and slip under the covers. The sheets feel cool and crisp to me tonight, not itchy and stiff like they did last night. I guess I’m not a guy who can sleep alone very easily.

A part of me worries I’ll wake up with a nightmare. I don’t want to scare the living shit out of her like I did Vanessa. Yet somehow, watching Allie quietly pick up the leftover Chinese and put it in the mini-fridge, I can’t even begin to compare my ex-girlfriend to her. Allie is cut from a completely different cloth. And it’s a cloth I’d like to wrap myself up in, I realize as my brain sinks into sleep.

Some other time. Maybe.