I don’t know why that struck a painful chord in my chest, but it did. God help me, I’d gotten used to being Logan’s friend. What if one of the things he needed to do differently was get rid of me?
“Lex,” he said lightly, filling each glass remarkably quickly. “Will you come to the back office with me and my parents? They’re begging to talk to you.” He turned to the rest of the table. “Courtney will be over in a second to tell you about what you’re drinking.”
I felt everyone’s eyes on me as I left the table and followed Logan through the double doors. He glanced down at me and extended his hand. “Do you mind if we...”
“Of course not.” I slid my fingers through his, feeling the familiar comfort of our hands locking together. If he was holding my hand, he couldn’t regret me, could he? Though, of course, we were turning the corner to a big kitchen, where his parents crouched over an island. The handholding was for show.This is why you’re taking a chance with Will, I told myself.With him, you don’t have to guess.
“Ah, Alexis!” Logan’s dad beamed. “Thank you for ducking away to see us.”
“Are you a hugger?” asked Petra. She barely waited for me to nod before flinging her arms around me. I dropped Logan’s hand and hugged her back.
“Okay, Mom,” Logan said gently, tugging her away. “Let Alexis breathe.”
Petra rubbed my back before releasing me. “We’re just so excited to meet you. Logan’s been gushing for weeks, and of course we’ve seen you on TV. Kit and I were kicking ourselves we hadn’t met you yet.”
“Mostly you were kicking me,” Logan corrected.
“Six months of dating without telling us!” Kit turned to me. “He’s always been private, but hiding you was beyond the pale.”
I stepped up to the island next to Petra. “In Logan’s defense, we both thought it would be best to keep things quiet. We didn’t want anything distracting from his election. Or my sister’s before that,” I added, in an inspired moment.
“That’s right, your sister’s a state senator.” Kit nodded as if that settled something. “You’re used to the political life. That’s important. Logan needs someone who understands what it’s like.”
“How about we talk about Logan like he’s standing right here,” Logan said, though he was smiling fondly at his father. Away from the campaign, he was remarkably at ease.
“How’s the wine-making business? Do you like it better than the farming you did before?”
Petra nodded. “Oh, much.” She reached up on her tiptoes and ruffled Logan’s hair. “This one kept telling us the Texas wine scene was going to blow up and we should get in on it. I’m so glad we listened. He was right. Business is booming. And we love working with the grapes.”
“Nice not to be on the verge of bankruptcy, too,” Kit said with a wink.
“At least I got one thing right,” Logan said. “Rare these days.”
I shot him a sympathetic look. He was clearly talking about the debate.
“We’re just two old hippies, really.” Kit smiled warmly across the counter at Petra. “We’ll go wherever the wind takes us, try our hand at anything. All you need is love, and the rest follows. Isn’t that right, dear?”
Theydidgive off a mellow hippie vibe. I blurted the first thing that came to mind: “How in the world did you two make Logan?”
Petra and Kit burst out laughing. “You know, sometimes I think he fashioned himself in opposition to us,” Petra admitted.
“Someone had to be the bloody responsible one,” Logan muttered.
“Oi, we were responsible,” Kit said. “Taught you all the essentials. Love, laughter, and Tottenham supremacy.”
The opportunity to get to know Logan better was too good not to press. “Was he always a serious child?”
“I have to show you pictures,” Petra said. “I know I have them here somewhere. I was going to scrapbook in my down time.” She started fluttering around the kitchen drawers, opening and closing. “Where did they go?”
“Mum,” Logan groaned. “There’s no need—”
“Here they are!” She waved a fistful of photos. “Look at him,” she said, pointing to the first. “Isn’t he the most handsome little boy? He got all our best features.”
In the photo stood a miniature Logan, glowering at the camera, wearing—I almost gasped—a pair of jean overalls. Just as I’d hoped. He stood in front of a large tree with his arms spread possessively around the trunk.
“He was guarding that tree,” Kit explained. “It was an old oak right in the center of town, had been there for hundreds of years. When Tex-Ag bought the land and was planning to tear it down, Logan chained himself to it and refused to leave for days. Petra and I had to bring him food and water and camp out with him at night. He was only ten.”
I looked at Logan, amazed. A faint redness tinged his cheeks. “You were a literal tree hugger. You can never let the RNC see this. What happened to the tree?”
