7. Crew

7

Crew

Q uit acting like you know me.

The trouble is that if anyone had asked me weeks ago if Logan Shepard meant anything to me, I'd tell them to bugger off, but now? I stand in the doorway of the bathroom watching her sleep. I can't help myself. The light seeps in from the dirty window, creating a soft haze that tangles with the ashy blonde highlights in her brown hair. Her chest rises and falls so gently that I forget how fast it can move when she's awake and angry. I try not to think too long about how small she looks swimming in the shirt I gave her, or let my eyes linger on how it falls across her bare thigh.

The trouble is that a few weeks ago, I didn't want to know anything about her.

Now I want everything.

She stirs, the light shining in her eyes and pulling her from the peaceful sleep she was in. As if remembering exactly who she is, her brows furrow and the classic Logan scowl returns to her face.

"Why are you looming?"

"I was brushing my teeth," I lie, and she sees through it but doesn't say anything. "Here," I tug her shirt and jeans from the towel rack behind me. "I hung these up to dry."

She sits up, the hem of the shirt falling down her thigh and exposing the soft curves of her skin as she reaches out to take the clothes.

"Turn around," she orders.

"That almost sounded like a thank you."

I roll my eyes and turn back toward the bathroom but I can see her reflection in the mirror as she strips from the oversized shirt and throws it to the bed. I can only see a selection of her curves and force myself to respect her privacy as she changes, but the urge to take in every inch of her body I can is strong.

"I'm ready," she huffs like I'm supposed to be reading her mind.

Up with the sun I had checked on the horse, put gas in the truck and collected what edible food I could find at the gas station for us to eat. But nothing moves unless Logan Shepard says so.

"Alright," I turn around to see her standing by the door hauling her long hair up into a ponytail. "There's coffee," I say to her as she walks toward the truck, but she's already climbing in and slamming the door before I can say anything more.

God sent her to test me, I just know it.

The drive back to town feels shorter and Logan keeps her eyes trained on the horizon like she's counting down the miles. I know it's because she misses Ash but there's a small piece of me that knows how badly she wants away from me. Getting her to stay a whole night had been asking a lot of her but we survived and not once did she try to kill me in my sleep. Though I wonder how many times the thought crossed her mind.

Her car is in the driveway as we pull into the trailer park and it's the first time she looks at me in two hours. "You left the keys on the seat, Bode brought it over so you could get Ash."

"What about the horse?" She asks hesitantly like it's some sort of test.

"I can unload a horse, Shepard, go get your boy. Thank you for your help yesterday."

She stares at me a moment longer, fire stoking behind those big blue eyes. "I work today at the diner; if I go now I don't get any hours in at the ranch."

I know exactly what she was thinking.

"It aint a test," I chuckle, "you've spent the last twenty four with me. I'll see you tomorrow."

She stares at me for a beat longer, like something else is on her mind before giving me a nod and climbing from the truck.

I wait until she's inside her trailer to pull the truck back out onto the highway and up to the ranch; it's another thirty minutes in the opposite direction to town. I think of nothing other than her the whole drive. Never has anyone consumed my thoughts like Logan does. I don't know if it's her eyes or the way she so readily fights back against me. I see something in her that I don't see in a lot of other people. She's so hellbent on proving she's not her family but even I can see that life keeps throwing one shitstorm after another at her.

By the time I get back to the ranch it's already early afternoon. I know that horse is getting antsy and, to be honest, I am too. I've never been so eager to see a sunset meet a sunrise just so I can catch a glimpse of her again.

Climbing from the truck I stretch my back and legs, glancing around the barns. There's not a whole lot going on in the corralls right now so I make my way over to unload the stallion we picked up. Just as I thought, he's a pain in the ass. It takes me a good fifteen minutes just to get him calm enough to lead him over to the empty ring.

I watch him run alongside the round fence, sprinting and kicking up dust clouds for a while. There's a lot that goes unspoken at the Ranch. Our pasts are guarded by the necessity to keep outsiders at arm's length. But sometimes, especially with troublesome stallions, my mind sinks back to a time when I was fresh out of the war and a pain in everyone's ass. Just lucky that Dot saw something buried beneath all my anger and distrust. And now I spend all my time trying to repay that kindness.

"You're back," Ford says behind me.

I turn to look at him pulling away from the gate. "Yeah, roads got washed out last night."

"Wasn't expecting a sleepover." He raises a brow at me.

"Neither was I."

"How did Shepard take that?" Ford leans against the fence, watching the horse for a moment before he turns his gaze back to me. Bandit appears between his feet, curling around him and climbing the fence to push herself into Ford's welcome palm. She stares at me with discontent but purrs uncontrollably as Ford scratches her head between where her ears should be. One crooked and bare, the other was taken off by an irate horse. I'm not even sure how the scruffy thing is alive but it only has love for Ford. That cat is the devil.

"Do you really care?" I only ask because not once in the weeks Logan has been here has he spoken to her. It's usually Bode roaming around distracting her from getting her chores done but Ford? Ford has kept his distance.

"If your getaway is going to cause issues, then yeah I do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's got a lotta baggage Crew," he says it like a warning, as if I don't already know.

"Again, what does that have to do with anything?" My hackles start to rise because I know he doesn't like her even though he doesn't have a damn good reason not to.

"It means I don't need her drama on the ranch and you don't need it in your life."

I bark out a laugh, "since when do you give a shit about my personal life, Ford?"

He shrugs. "Think about it."

"There ain't nothing to think about," I say, pinning my shoulders back and internally reminding myself to keep my cool, "Logan is a case, that's it." Even as the words fly out of my mouth, I know they're a lie. She's much more than that and I'm not really sure when it happened.

"Good," he nods, "keep it that way."

"Jesus," I breathe and move to head towards the truck, "I need a shower and this conversation is pointless."

"The guys need lunch," he calls after me, "think you can handle that?"

I pull open the driver side door, glancing into the cab and see Logan's dead cell phone sitting on the dash. An idea comes to mind and it isn't to spite Ford's warning. "Yeah I can handle it."

I make quick work of getting back to the bunkhouse and showering. By the time I get back in the truck and head into town it feels like my body is buzzing with nerves. A part of me hopes that she'll be happy to see me, but I'm smarter than that. I'll get that beautiful scowl and a snarky comment to take the edge off for the rest of the day until I see her again tomorrow. For now that seems good enough.

The diner has been around for as long as I can remember. There were nights spent here with an old group of friends after football games and too many Friday nights spent over baskets of fries and malt shakes. I remember Cammy telling me that the last owners sold it after I left for the Army. I haven't been back since but it's still the same beige color on the outside and I can make out the maroon booths through the windows.

I park near the back in the hope that she hasn't seen my truck yet and pocket her phone before climbing out. Her voice carries on the breeze and draws my eye to the back of the building by the kitchen door, where she stands with a greasy looking pot-bellied pig of a man.

Logan's shoulders grow tightly wound as he steps closer and walks his dirty fingers along her hip and over her jeans to her ass. He whispers something to her and she grinds her teeth together before angling her face away. I tuck behind the wall so she doesn't see me and take a moment to calm myself.

Drawing in a deep, settling breath, I tilt my head back around the corner. They're still standing there, his hand lingering on the curve of her hip. Her jaw is so tight that I'm worried she'll crack a molar.

"You were late again today," he coos in a voice that sends chills even up my spine. "That's four times this week alone, Logan."

"It won't happen again," she grits out. I barely hear it but the tension in her voice is clear.

"That's what you said yesterday," the man tsks. "Now," He draws out the word and it makes my hands clench into fists, "I could fire you or I could just take a bite out of this ass."

His hand slides around to her behind, gripping it firmly in his hand. I have to stop myself from bolting from the side of the building and sending my fist through his face. But Logan beats me to it.

Her hands press firmly against his chest giving him a strong push. It sends him back a good step and he releases his grip on her.

"I don't know when you stopped knowin' what the word no means but if you want your face to match Tommy's truck, I'd be more than happy to make that happen."

He chuckles right in her face. "It'll happen one day, Shepard. You'll be desperate enough for that paycheck, you'll let me have my fill."

"I doubt it," she sneers, giving herself space from him.

"Don't be late again," the man bites, "or I'll take it myself."

He shoulders past her, the backdoor slamming shut behind him. Logan's eyes close and I can see her lips move, but I can't hear what she's saying to herself as she slumps against the diner wall. The sight only makes the anger roll off me in waves.

My hands curl into tight fists, wanting more than anything to stop the harassment I'm witnessing, but Logan would only use it against me. I can't play white knight because that's not what she wants. Instead I give her the moment to take a breath and head into the diner. The smell of grease surrounds me as I plaster on a fake smile for the woman behind the counter. She's a little older and I don't recognize her as she asks for my order.

"Four burgers, Ma'am," I say.

She grins like I've just paid her a compliment, "you want fries with those?" The woman says in a sultry voice. It would normally amuse me but my eyes flicker up and I catch a glimpse of that asshole through the server's window.

"Yeah, throw in an order of onion rings too."

For some reason the woman giggles and nods. "Coming right up, anything else I can get ya, handsome?"

"The name of the owner," I say, glancing back down at her. Her eyes widen for a moment before she nods.

"Carl, Carl Jenkins." She leans forward. "Please don't tell him I called you Handsome, okay? It was a compliment, nothing more."

Her comment furrows my brow but I shake my head after a moment. "Secret's safe with me."

The woman gives me a nod of appreciation and sighs with relief before turning to put the order in. I wait another fifteen minutes without a glimpse of Logan before my food is set on the counter in grease-stained brown paper bags. Sparing one last glance at the asshole behind the grill, I push my way through the front door and head back to the truck, leaving before she sees me. I'll give her phone back tomorrow.

She'll still hate me either way and I'll still hate myself for not stepping in.