“Okay, but let's back up,” Amy says, settling into the other chair. “You and Logan knew each other in high school, right? What's the history there?”
I take a deep breath and give them the abbreviated version. How I tutored him for three years. How I had the world's most obvious crush on him. How he left for Alabama without saying goodbye, and I thought I'd imagined the whole connection between us.
“But last night,” I continue quietly, “he confessed he used to count down the hours until our tutoring sessions. That I was...” I swallow hard. “That I was 'the girl' for him. Even back then.”
“Wow,” Julie breathes. “That's so romantic!”
“He's clearly crazy about you,” Amy adds. “The whole town can see it. That man looks at you like you hung the moon.”
“The whole town can see it because Mrs. Henderson photographed it and plastered it in a group chat,” I mutter.
“Small-town life, babe.” Julie grins. “You'll just have to get used to being half of Pelican Point's favorite couple.”
“We're not?—”
“Oh, you absolutely are,” Amy interrupts. “I've heard at least six people today mention how nice it is that 'our Logan' found someone local. You're officially town royalty now.”
I groan. “That's horrifying.”
“You know the deal, girl. That's the community.” Amy stands, smoothing down her sweater vest. “Everyone's rooting for you two.”
After they finally leave, with promises from Julie for dress shopping tomorrow evening, I try to focus on actual work. But my mind keeps drifting to Logan, to last night on the porch and this morning's kisses. And the way he looked at me across the breakfast table like I was the best thing he'd ever seen.
My phone rings around two o'clock. Logan's name flashes on the screen, and my heart does that stupid fluttery thing.
“Hey,” I answer, unable to keep the smile out of my voice.
“Hey yourself.” His voice dips into something warm and seductive, and my toes curl in response. “So, I have a question. Have you by any chance heard any interesting gossip today?”
I laugh. “You mean about how half the town has seen photos of us making out on my porch?”
“Those photos are everywhere, aren't they? My marketing director mentioned them in our meeting this morning. Apparently, the concept of our relationship is great for community relations.”
“What? Pictures of us kissing on my porch are a good marketing tool? Has Melody completely lost her mind?”
Logan chuckles. “She thinks the idea of our romance will help drive season ticket sales. Anyway…” He clears his throat. “I don’t care who knows about us and I told her she could use some things, tastefully that is, to promote the ball team.” He pauses. “I hope that's okay. That I said that.”
Warmth floods through me, although I still can’t quite make the connection between our budding romance and the increase of season ticket sales. “It's more than okay,” I finally respond.
“Good. Because I meant it.” There's noise in the background: voices, phones ringing. “Listen, I'm between meetings, but I wanted to confirm tonight. Pizza at my place, right? I stopped by to see Violet at lunch time, and she kept asking about Cookie.”
“We'll be there.”
“Great. And Heather?”
“Yeah?”
“For the record, I really liked making out with you on the patio last night.” His voice drops into that deep, gravelly tone that does things to my insides. “We should do that again tonight.”
I'm still grinning when we hang up.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a pleasant blur of paperwork. Cookie naps on a pillow across the room, occasionally making small running motions in her sleep, probably dreaming about chasing Violet.
At five PM, I pack up my laptop and gather Cookie's leash. She perks up immediately, her tail wagging.
“Ready to see your girl?” I ask.
Cookie's answering bark is definitive. Yes. Obviously. Why are we still standing here?
