Tennessee Welcomes You.

The sign flew by, blurred by the fine sheen of mist coating the windshield. Shifting in my seat, I tipped my head back to peek at the speedometer. A hair over ninety. And climbing. Just like my pulse.

“Can you slow down a little?”

My voice was steady. I heard it above the roar of blood pounding between my ears. But Logan didn’t acknowledge me. He hadn’t said a word since we’d left Chicago five hours ago. Not about last night’s kiss. Or my awkward game of show and tell. Not about the anger management classes. Or his plea agreement.

It was like he was going out of his way to ignore me.

Panic stole my breath when he gunned the engine, sliding over the broken yellow line to pass a slow-moving truck. Tears blurred my eyes out of nowhere, and my fingernails dug into my legs with enough pressure to leave half-moon indents on my skin.

“Pull over!” I choked when we were safely back in our lane. “Now!”

As if he just realized I was there, Logan whipped his gaze in my direction. His brows drew together over confused blue eyes, and that hurt me even more. Only I knew I didn’t look hurt. It was fear he saw.

And I was afraid.

But it had little to do with the road or the droplets of rain spattering the windshield.

I was afraid of Logan. Terrified of the way he pulled confessions from me like he tugged the threads on his frayed jeans. Effortlessly. And how he made my stomach flutter. But mostly, I was scared that he wasn’t feeling it too.

His eyes darted back to the road a second before he found his voice. “What is it? What—”

“Pull over!”

I hated the panic lacing my tone. And the way the car felt too small. Or maybe it was my stupid emotions, running wild and taking up all the space.

He looked around frantically, but since I chose to have my breakdown in the middle of nowhere on a two-lane road with no shoulder, he couldn’t comply with my wishes immediately.

What was it about this guy that brought out the crazy? It wasn’t my usual brand, which I covered with a layer of bitchiness. This was the messy kind. The kind that builds and builds until it explodes all over your leather upholstery.

And just to make things interesting, the spitting rain turned to a steady drizzle.

Burying my head in my hands, I fought the torrent of tears.

Breathe.

A minute later the car coasted to a stop.

“Victoria.”

Logan’s voice was calm, eerily so, but I was long past consoling. I clawed at the door, and when it opened, I tumbled out onto the dirt. Scratch that—the mud. Because of course it would be mud. Dirt you could wipe away. But mud clung to your skin and your hair and your soul.

When I heard his car door slam, I hauled to my feet, my cowboy boots sliding on the silt. And I ran. Which was the stupidest thing I could’ve done. Not only was my gait unsteady, but I had nowhere to go.

He’d parked on a small patch of ground in front of a gate that lead to a pasture where cows and sheep and horses grazed twenty yards away. Except for one baby cow who’d found her way to the fence.

“Victoria … stop!” Logan’s hand coiled around my wrist just as I sank to my knees in the grass. Crouching next to me when I reached through the barbed wire to pet the calf, he said, “She’s gonna bite you.”

“No, she won’t.” My fingers slid over her pink nose. “See?”

When I turned to Logan with a smile, he wasn’t looking at the calf. All of his focus was on me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t … I didn’t think …”

Guilt pooled in my belly since only a fraction of all this had to do with his driving.

My attention returned to the calf. “S’okay.”

After a moment, he sighed and dropped to his butt in the mud. Surprise parted my lips. Because he had to be as crazy as I was. Crazier.

“No, it’s not okay,” he said, pushing wet strands of blond hair out of his face. “I feel like I’m always apologizing to you. Why is that, princess?”

I side-eyed him as I scratched behind the calf’s ear. She didn’t move, as if she were as interested in whatever he was about to say as I was. Only he didn’t speak.

When he hung his head, it occurred to me that Logan wasn’t the jackass everyone made him out to be. Or else why would he be sitting out here in the rain, struggling to find the words to explain why he’d tripped over some imaginary line?

Any other woman would’ve taken the fun he had to offer instead of trying to forge some deep connection. There were no more breathless kisses after my confession. He’d just held me like any good friend would.

“You don’t need to apologize, Logan. Just take the anger management classes and the test. I was planning on flying back to Austin in a couple weeks anyway.”

Or a month. But that didn’t matter. Whenever he finished the classes, I’d be gone.

Logan’s head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

“Just some shit Mac is throwing at me. I’ve got to deal with it.”

“In Austin?” I nodded, and the furrow on his brow deepened. “How long will you be gone?”

I went back to petting Bessie. She was on the ground now, legs tucked under her body.

“Well, I mean, after you take your classes, chances are I won’t need to be here.” Banishing the frown tugging the corners of my lips, I swallowed hard. “I know the only reason you drove to begin with is because of me. I don’t blame you for being frustrated.”

A dry chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and when I looked over, his face was tilted to the sky.

“Fuck!” he growled into the air, and I jerked. Shaking his head, he pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I’m just …” His eyes found mine, pale blue and stripped free of any guile. “I didn’t have a chance to read your papers, so I don’t know what that’s all about. I drove because, well … whatever, that doesn’t matter either. As far as my mood, that’s what I was trying to explain.” Taking my free hand, he looked down at his thumb as it glided back and forth over my wet skin. “Last year when I found Laurel, she was here … in Tennessee.” His mouth twisted up like he’d tasted something sour. “She was working at a strip club. I spent a few months here looking for her. That’s what I was thinking about. How much I hate this fucking place. And the closer we got … I don’t know …”

His declaration ended on a sigh, and before I could process anything he’d said, he reached inside the fence and rubbed the spot between Bessie’s big brown eyes.

“What do you imagine she’s thinking?” he asked, his brows turning inward in contemplation.

I took the abrupt shift to mean we were done with true confessions. For the moment at least.

I shrugged, fingering the little tag on her ear. “Don’t eat me.”

He laughed, and the sound was like a melody. A song that spoke to a place deep inside of me that longed to hear music again.

“We should go,” he finally said, shoving to his feet.

Bessie rested her chin on the wire between two barbs and I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her nose before taking Logan’s hand.

When he hauled me up, he didn’t let go. “Where’s mine?”

I looked up at him, blinking the rain from my eyes. “Your what?”

His free hand slid to the back of my neck, and I shivered, because I knew. And he knew I knew. Which is why he didn’t hesitate to pull my mouth to his. The kiss was chaste and sweet and totally different from the one we’d shared in the suite. But I felt it in my toes and my fingertips, and everywhere in between.

He rested his forehead against mine. “You ready?”

The question tripped from his lips, filled with innuendo and dripping with dark promises.

He’s going to wreck you.

It should’ve scared me, that voice in my head. But I didn’t pay attention. Because I was already wrecked. Love had wrecked me a long time ago. And this wasn’t that.

Safe in that assumption, I nodded and let Logan lead me to the car.