Logan clasped both handsaround his coffee cup, staring down at it. And blushing to the tips of hisears, as though people weren’t tempted to throw their panties at him in thestreet. I’dseenthe way people looked at him today, men and women.Hunger in their eyes.
And yet he didn’t seem to seeit.
He was adorable. How couldhe be real?
Unable to resist any longer,I darted in and brushed my lips against Logan’s cheek. The citrus-spicescent of his aftershave curled over my palate, not the cheap stuff I associatedwith men like him.
But then, I didn’tknowany men likeLogan. I knew men who wanted the world to see them as macho, who were afraid tobe seen covered in all my glitter or holding hands with fingers tipped withchipping nail polish. Logan was the opposite. A man who didn’t care about theglitter or the nail polish or anything else.
He was more of a man thanany of them.
“What was that for?” heasked. He didn’t screech and jump away, didn’t scold me for PDAs, didn’tthreaten that he wasn’t taking me out again if I didn’tcut out that gayshit.
I was still chasing the MikeEverlys of the world, desperately trying to be something they weren’t, and I’dforgotten there were other men, too. Better men. Men who were comfortable withthemselves and not threatened by my existence.
“For everything you’ve donefor me,” I said. “I’d offer to blow you, but you’d say no.”
Logan snorted. “You’re payingme. No further thanks necessary.”
“My grandma’s paying you. I’m…planning to spend a lot of afternoons putting jigsaw puzzles together with herafter this.”
“Sounds peaceful. Think she’dlike an extra grandson?” Logan asked.
“I think she’d love you,” Isaid, knowing it was true. Not because Logan was more like she’d expected me tobe, but because he had a good soul. That was all Grandma had ever cared about. “Consideryourself welcome to come put together jigsaw puzzles anytime.”
“Might take you up on that,”Logan said, stretching his legs out in front of him and tilting his face up tothe sun.
I was starting to think it’d be nice if he did.
TEN
LOGAN
“I guess you’re coming withme,” Ashley said, climbing out of the car.
“That’s how this whole thingworks.” I followed him out, heading around to the back to help with the bags we’dloaded in earlier.
I was looking at him again.Reallylooking.
Curiosity was primed to getthe better of me. I hadn’t stopped thinking about kissing him since it’dhappened, and apparently I wasn’taboutto, either.
“Tired of me already?” Iasked, taking the two heavier bags and leaving the lighter ones for Ashley.
“I doubt anyone ever getstired of you,” Ashley said. “I’m just… feeling a little claustrophobic, Ithink. Trapped.”
“I know the feeling,” Isaid, not sure if that’d help at all.
Being surrounded by threatstended to put people on edge. Yesterday’s incident still had to befresh in Ashley’s mind, and while heseemedto berecovering, things like that lingered.
Was I cut out for theseserious bodyguarding jobs? I had no idea what to say to him to make him feelbetter. I had no idea if therewasanything I could say to him.
“So, do you come here often?”I asked, half making conversation, half assessing the security threat. Thatpart, at least, I was getting the hang of.
Ashley snorted. “You’ve gotbetter lines than that,” he said, grinning at me as he strode ahead, one bagslung over his shoulder. I had no idea what was in them, although Ididknow thatwhatever it was, it was soft.
“You know what I mean.”
I couldn’t get mad athim. I wasn’t in the habit of getting mad at all, but Ashley was impossible tobe annoyed with, even when he was teasing. He had a way of making teasingflattering, like having hisattention, no matter what form it took, was a privilege in and of itself.
