“I don’t need you to take care of me.” I removed her hand from my arm and walked away. She didn’t want me anywhere near her, but if I got hurt, then she wanted to fucking mother me. My jaw tight, I changed and hit the noisy, wet streets in a hard run.
The drizzle continued. Fog swirled around the tall building. A half hour into my run, breathing hard and slick with sweat and rain, I slowed to a stop. God. I scrubbed a hand down my wet face. I had to go back, apologize for being such a dick. She needed the job, I understood that, but to paint a guy who got a fucking hard-on just by looking at her?
That I’d never accept.
I jogged back to the apartment, opened the front door as Logan shuffled out from her studio wearing low-riding, paint-splattered jeans and a tight, sky-blue tee, revealing a handspan of tan skin. She looked so damn sexy in her work clothes. “Logan—”
“Whatever it is, can it wait?” She removed her jacket from the coat stand. “I’m in a hurry.”
“About this morning, I’m sorry.”
“And last night? You terrified my client.”
Terrified the bastard? I wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands. “I’m not sorry about that.”
She blew out weary a breath, stirring the few short silky strands that had escaped her ponytail to seductively frame her striking face. “I have to get to the art store.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She lifted an eyebrow and looked me up and down, from my damp shirt to my sweaty face.
“I need a shower. Ten minutes, or I’ll come as is.”
An eternally long second passed before she nodded.
Grabbing fresh clothes from my tote, I headed for the bathroom.
Eight minutes later, showered and changed, I jogged barefoot downstairs.
She turned from staring out the window. She’d waited, hadn’t pulled her usual disappearing act. Hope renewed itself. I pulled on my boots, raked my fingers through my damp hair then grabbed my jacket and beanie since it was still raining. We headed outside. She stopped in the covered porch and pulled up the hood of her coat as I shrugged on my jacket then put on my beanie.
She cut me a quick look, her gaze flickering to my head.
“What?”
A tiny smile tugged the mouth I so badly wanted to kiss again.
“You look nice in that.”
Her words almost knocked me off my feet. “Wow, Logan,twocompliments intwoweeks.” Color surged beneath her skin at my edge of sarcasm.
I couldn’t resist tormenting her. “I liked it better when you nuzzled my neck and whispered I smelled good the night I carried you to bed.”
“It’s not very gentlemanly to remind me of how drunk I was.”
My smile vanished. “At least then you were more honest about your feelings.”
She bit her lip, head lowered as we walked out into the rain. I exhaled a frustrated breath then stopped short at the sight of my black Jeep parked two cars away on the curb. Jack had finally delivered my SUV. I’d been so pissed this morning, I hadn’t seen it—hell, a horde of reporters could have camped about butt-naked, and I wouldn’t have noticed the skunks either.
I snagged Logan’s wrist before she walked past the Jeep, hunkered down and reached beneath the running board for my hidden key.
“What are you doing?” A shocked whisper.
I winked, pressed the unlock remote and opened the passenger door. “Climb in.”
When she just stood there and stared, I picked her up by the waist and dropped her on the seat. “Max!”
Her minty breath swept over my face in a whisper of a caress. With barely an inch between our faces, the temptation to kiss her grew like a wildfire. With effort, I forced out the words, “I like hearing my name on your lips.”
