Chapter 12

It’s only once I’m alone that I let myself feel shaken. Once I”m alone, and I’ve spoken to Cole, assuring him in no uncertain terms that both the brewery and I are fine, and there’s no need for him to cut his trip short.

I can tell he’s going to anyway, but it had to be said.

I had three missed calls from Midge, so I call her too and tell her I’m just fine, thank you very much. No need for intervention.

“Tough titties, I’m bringing over a bottle of booze,” she said—and then hung up before I could tell her no. Now that I’ve made the calls and cleaned the bar, I’m glad she’s coming. My head hurts, and my heart hurts worse. I’ve lost any sense of up and down, right or wrong, and the messed up part is that I’m upset about Logan more than Tommy. I knew Tommy was an irresponsible asshole, so that’s not news. Logan, showing up like an avenging angel and then carrying me out of the bar and away from danger like I’m a damn princess? That feels significant.

If he didn’t care, would he have barged in like that? Normally, I don’t truck with being carried around like I can’t take care of myself, but in the moment, it felt good. It felt like he was protecting me, maybe even declaring himself, in front of anyone who could see. It’s something he wasn’t willing to do a month ago…

But then he stormed off, and I was too messed up and caught in my own head to tell him not to go.

There’s a knock on the front door. The glass part is covered by the blinds, but I don’t doubt that it’s Midge. So a gasp escapes me when I open the door and see Logan behind it, holding a bottle of Midge’s favorite whiskey.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my hand lifting to the bruise on my forehead on reflex, like I could possibly hide it from him when he already spent half an hour staring at it earlier.

His eyes on mine, he reaches up to gently trace the area around the wound, his touch warm and welcome—a caress—and my lips part in surprise.

“I shouldn’t have left. I was a fool to leave. But I was so fucking angry, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. I hate that they hurt you.” His voice is thick, hoarse. He’s been drinking. With Ivy, a thought that makes me feel a stab of jealousy. I like Ivy too much to think she’d ever pursue a man she knows I…care about, and after seeing her and Lou together tonight, I’m sure her interest lies elsewhere. But she’s just so pretty. So fresh and young and everything I didn’t feel like I was anymore before the divorce. I”m different now, stronger, and I’m getting stronger every day, but there’s still that little voice inside of me—the one that’s been there since I was a girl—telling me I’m plain as pumpkin pie without whipped cream. It’s my momma’s voice, and she never had it in her to appreciate someone like me, someone she considers hard and unfeminine. But it’s hard as hell to permanently silence it.

“I don’t know how to talk to you anymore,” he continues.

I reach up to touch his hand, my heart hurting because I didn’t want to make him feel that way—even if I feel the same way. I weave our fingers together and lead him in through the door, closing it behind him.

“I see you managed to talk to Midge just fine,” I observe, still holding his hand. He’s looking at me differently now, his eyes hopeful—and I feel hope filling my heart too. Maybe it’s not too late for us to figure this out. Maybe we’re not too screwed up and broken to make it work. “She wouldn’t give up her booze for just anyone.”

“I didn’t charm her,” he says quickly, as if it were an accusation. “She just asked me if I was done being a dumbass. I said I hoped so, and she handed it over, saying I probably needed as much help as I could get. I”m guessing she’s right.”

I take the bottle from him and set it on the closest table before turning back toward him. Letting myself soak him in—so tall and handsome. Too good for me, I used to think. He’d never settle for one woman. But when I look at him now, I only see a man who’s decided what he wants, same as I have. A man who’ll stand up for me and stand by my side. And I’m so, so relieved that he’s okay. I couldn’t have forgiven myself if he’d gotten hurt by someone while trying to protect me. Especially if that someone had been Tommy. I turn back toward him and stride purposefully forward, grabbing the lapels of his coat, which he must have found somewhere before coming back. His eyes widen, and then he’s grinning at me like the damn cat that got the canary.

“Midge is a genius.”

I laugh, my hands fussing with his coat, my whole being on the edge of something. “You know I don’t care about the whiskey, you big lug.”

“I’ve been an idiot,” he says, one of his hands lifting up to cradle the back of my head. “Worse than an idiot. But I didn’t know what I was doing, Brittany. Still don’t. I’ve never felt like this about someone before. It scares me.” His hand is playing with my ponytail, the nerve endings purring in pleasure like I’m a cat who’s decided it likes him, but my attention is fixed on the words he said.

“Why does it scare you?” I ask, taking a half step closer. Our bodies are only inches apart now. I can feel the crisp air he carried in with him. I get the urge to warm his skin with my own, so I unzip the coat and step in.

He groans and wraps his arms around me. Kisses the top of my head, the sensation bursting through me. “Because I’m scared I’m going to fuck it all up. I’m not good at this stuff. I…when Cole called me after Millie died, I froze up. And my parents… I don’t know how to love people.”

“Sounds to me like you don’t know how to lose them,” I say, nestling in closer, because this man I care about is finally opening up to me, and I’m not about to let him zip back up. “No one knows how to lose people. If you did, you’d be heartless.”

He tips his head down to me, watching me with something like wonder, but that’s not the only thing in his eyes. His pupils are dilated, and his hand, which has been caressing my back softly, slides underneath my shirt, his hand against the heat of my back. “I don’t want to lose you. I’m in love with you, and I feel like the stupidest fucker alive for what I said to you before Christmas. I wanted to bring you in close, but I went and pushed you away.”

“I still can’t hide with you, Logan. After—”

“You don’t need to say it,” he tells me, his hand rubbing soft circles on my back, the sensation sizzling through me. “The last fucking thing I’d want to do is hide that I’m with you. If you’ll take pity on me, I’ll be the most grateful man alive, and I’ll want everyone to know it.”

“Cole—”

“Will hear it from me,” he says, pulling me closer still. “And I’m going to prove to him that I can be a good enough man for you. I’m going to prove it to everyone.”

To himself, too, I can hear him thinking, and my heart is so hot and full and large, my chest must be struggling to contain it. “I love you, too.”

And finally, finally, he lowers his head to me and kisses me like it might be the last thing he does on this earth. When I kissed him the first time, bliss ended in mortification. The second time, anger. This time, all it does is make me want him more. So much more.

I pull back slightly, and he grins at me. “Wow.”

“Look at you, praising yourself,” I say, teasing, but my breathless voice is proof enough of how he’s affecting me.

He shakes his head slowly, lifting a finger up to trace my bottom lip. “I was praising you. You’re everything. When you stopped wearing my necklace, I wanted to burn the world and myself with it.”

“I’m glad you settled for ignoring me.” I thought I was still teasing, but some hurt slips into the words. Because I’d hoped. For weeks, I’d hoped he would come to me and tell me he didn’t want to hide, that he wanted us to be out in the open, come what may. And he didn’t…not until tonight.

Logan’s already shaking his head. “I never ignored you. I couldn’t ignore you. I’m always painfully aware of where you are.”

“Same,” I say, then I plant my hand on his chest for a second, needing to feel the frantic beat of his heart, and step toward the door.

“Please tell me you’re not leaving,” he says, his voice desperate.

I turn the lock. “I’m not leaving, and neither are you. Now, take your coat off. You’re wearing altogether too much clothing.”

When I turn, I have the pleasure of watching him take off his coat and throw it to the floor, and then he’s stalking toward me like a wild beast after its prey. He picks me up for the second time that day, only this time I’m facing him, and I laugh and wrap my legs around his waist as he moves with purpose toward the bar, kissing me as he lowers me onto it.