If I’m really honest with myself, my heart is breaking.
Into a million pieces.
And today’s party just pointed out the obvious—Logan belongs to somebody else now.
And any secret dreams I had of him being mine?
Those are forever dead.
69
As soon as we get away from the edge of the crowd, Logan starts walking faster. I follow him all the way to the parking lot and into his truck. He turns on the engine and rolls up the windows when we get inside.
“Hot,” I say.
He puts on the A/C.
“I didn’t know this truck had A/C,” I joke.
“Privacy.” He puts the truck in reverse and peels out of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?”
“I need to talk to you. This will only take a few minutes.” His jaw ticks.
He drives down Main Street and across town until he hits the open road we’ve driven down hundreds of times before. The same road we got stuck on last year, except then we were both very single.
He pulls off by a private stretch of land that borders the river running through this section of Hill Country. The water’s calm and almost level with the bank.
Logan keeps the A/C on and puts the truck into park before he leans back against his window and faces me. “So. Where’d you get it?”
“I got the salt and pepper shaker set at the mall.”
“I meant the quilt.”
I bite my lip.
“It looks hand-made,” he presses me. “Was it?”
I stare down at my hands, which I’ve crossed daintily over my skirt. I certainly appear calmer and less sweaty than I feel on the inside.
“Mace. Did you knit it yourself?” Logan asks me.
I look up at him now. Yep. He’s definitely pissed.
“Why are you mad?” I ask him. “It wasn’t like a planned thing. It was…”
“You know how bad that looked? How suspicious? I knew it was from you, and I felt…” He cuts off and starts in another place. “You shouldn’t have done that, Mace.”
My face goes hot and I swallow. “No one even gets it.” Remembering Mama’s reaction, I add, “Well, certainly not Gigi. Only you would know the meaning.”
Logan goes quiet.
“What’s this really about?” I ask him. “Seriously.”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
