Chapter Three

Logan

"Phoebe is so cool. She told us that she would show up how she does her eyeliner and how to perfectly line our lips," Ruby says between bites of cereal.

"She showed us some cool songs she's been writing and she said they might not be for the band. That she might do something different with them, but she didn't say what," June adds.

"What do you think that means?" Ruby asks.

They keep talking about Phoebe all through breakfast and I just listen. Pretending to be reading on my phone, but absorbing every crumb of information they leave on the table. I'm obsessed with the pink-haired goddess.

Yesterday after I asked her to get a drink and she turned me down, I tried to stay out of the way of the guests. My staff answered any questions that came up. Ruby and June spent quite a while with Phoebe and then her sister, Maggie, joined them too.

I tossed and turned all night dreaming about the pop star and all the things I wanted to do to her. When she said no to the drink, I could see in her eyes that she wanted to say yes. I don't know why she turned me down and I would never pressure her, but this morning I woke up determined to at least talk to her again.

There is no way that I can just let her go. It's beyond all reason, but I just feel that she's meant to be mine. Meant to be here with us. A ridiculous notion that a famous woman who has everything and could have anyone would choose to be with a winery owner raising his two teenage sisters in northern California.

"Phoebe said that we could come to her room at two this afternoon. What are we going to do till then? It's forever." June cries out.

"Um, you could do your chores and maybe some of your laundry. I saw the pile in your closet," I suggest.

"Logan, how are we supposed to just do our chores and laundry when The Pandemonium Pixies are here?" Ruby asks.

"The same way you would if we had any other guests," I answer firmly. "I know you are excited and spending time with Phoebe is fun, but you have a lot of time until you can go to her room. You need to uphold your obligations. Do you think the band got where they are by flaking out on things? Especially family stuff?"

The girls look at each other and do that twin-talking-without-talking thing. They seem to come to an agreement that I'm right.

"We'll do our chores and laundry."

"Thanks, girls." I smile at them. I'm about to tell them how great they are, but then Ruby adds.

"If you tell us what you think about Phoebe and when you are going to ask her out."

"Excuse me?" I ask, stalling for time.

"We saw the way you looked at her. Like a dog with a bone. Are you going to ask her out?" June asks.

"Where the hell did you hear that expression?" I ask. "And I didn't look at her anyway. She's a guest and that's that."

I stand up and clear my dishes from the table. I will not be needled by two twelve-year-old girls into talking about the woman I have a crush on.

I can feel them conspiring against me. I will never regret having custody of them, but sometimes I wish I had a partner, so it wasn't always the two of them against just me.

"Okay, Logan. Phoebe is just a guest. We understand," Ruby says suspiciously.

"I mean, she's famous, pretty, rich and awesome. Why would you like her?" June adds.

I turn to look at them, but they are walking out of the room. They both left their dishes on the table, something they know not to do, but I'm not calling them back to put them in the dishwasher. I don't want to face the pre-teen inquisition. They're right. She's perfect and I like her. The question is why she would like me.

I wash the girls' dishes and head to my office. The rehearsal dinner is tonight and a few wedding people are arriving this morning. The photographer, the minister, and the caterer are all supposed to be here before noon. The photographer and minister have rooms that are ready and the caterer will have access to the party space where both the rehearsal dinner and reception are being held.

Everything was ready yesterday, so I'm just double-checking things. I am going back through the files when I hear someone talking very loudly and angrily outside my window. It's a female voice and I instantly worry that something has happened to someone in the wedding party.

Rushing outside, I stop abruptly when I see Phoebe Stone, standing in a T-shirt and tiny shorts with tears running down her face yelling into her phone.

"You promised me you wouldn't mess this up. I trusted you, despite all the evidence that you can't be trusted. I thought that since this would help your precious career you wouldn't mess it up."

A man's voice answers, "Babe, you should have known I wouldn't have shown up to take pictures of your crazy family. How would it help my career? You think you and your sisters are so relevant when you're just a bunch of overweight crazy bitches."

That's as much as I'm willing to listen to or let this goddess be subjected to. I walk over and gently take the phone out of her hand while pulling her into my body. I feel her sink into me and wrap her arms around my waist.

"Who is this?" I ask.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"My name is Logan Gibson and I own the winery where the Stone-Young wedding is being held."

"Why are you on Phoebe's phone? Put her back on."

"No, you can't talk to her anymore. No one who treats her with such disrespect deserves to even say her name. I'm not sure who you are or why you think you can treat any woman that way, but I just have one thing to say to you."

"I'm Trent McGregor," the man on the phone says like I'm supposed to know who that is.

"I don't care who you are. Never talk to Phoebe like that again. Never talk to Phoebe again."

"Who are you to tell me that?"

"I'm the man that's going to make sure you leave her alone." I look down into her deep chocolate brown eyes that are looking up at me. "I'm the one that's going to show her how a real man treats a woman."

I hang up the phone and toss it on the grass.

"Are you okay, Phoebe?"

"No." More tears fall down her cheeks. I wipe them away and place a palm on each side of her face.

"How can I help?"

"I don't know." She laughs. "Do you know a photographer?"

"Is that who that jackass was?"

She nods. "Yes, and my ex-boyfriend. He promised he would still do this even though we broke up."

"I'm sorry," I say, even though I'm not sorry that they broke up. I'm sorry that she's hurting. "I might know someone who can take the pictures for you. They aren't exactly a professional wedding photographer, but they take good pictures."

"Anyone would be better than no one, right?" she tries to laugh.

"What would make you feel better right now, Phoebe?"

She stares into my eyes for several minutes. "Logan?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry I told you no last night."

"You are?" I pull her body closer to mine. I can feel the rise and fall of each breath she takes.

"I am. I wanted to say yes, but I'm afraid I'll like you too much." A blush spreads across her cheeks.

"I already like you a lot," I tell her, my dick is hard and digging into her stomach. She has to know how much she turns me on.

"I know what would make me feel better right now."

Please let it be me. "What?" I ask.

"A kiss."