Chapter 17

ChapterSeventeen

Holy crap, that man is a good kisser.

Jeanie leaned back against the door in the dark trying to catch her breath. But her breath would not cooperate because all her brain wanted to think about was Logan’s mouth on hers and his hands raking across her body and his solid waist between her legs.

Oh God, had she actually confessed to wanting to jump into his arms since the day she met him? She could have been embarrassed about that, but then she remembered the way his groan had vibrated through her when she said it. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing she could have said.

But then whoever had been knocking over her damn trash cans had ruined the whole moment. It wasn’t just the trash cans. She didn’t want to tell Logan, but someone had been tipping over her new mums out front, too. Every damn night. Her flowers, her trash, she’d even found her mail strewn all over the sidewalk yesterday. Raccoons didn’t go through your mail. She was pretty sure of it.

Maybe it was kids screwing around? But teenagers loved her pumpkin-spiced lattes! Why would they mess with their supplier? It didn’t make sense.

She was determined not to be a hot mess every time she saw Logan, so she’d held back her theories about someone trying to get rid of her. Well, mostly held back. He was definitely skeptical of Annie’s Mac theory, but it was making more and more sense to Jeanie. Who else would want her gone?

Casper padded down the stairs to greet her. Her original ghost. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe there was a rational explanation for all the rest of this, too. But she was determined to leave Logan out of it. If they were going to ... well, going to make out in dark alleys ... she wanted him to see her in the best possible light. Even if that light was the dim glow of the streetlamp.

And tonight, she felt like she’d nailed it.

She’d gone out with friends. She’d had some freaking fun for the first time in a long time. It was nice.

Making out with Logan was just the cherry on top.

New Jeanie liked cherries.

* * *

Jeanie bolted awake.

The sound of breaking glass tore through her sleep.

What the hell was that?

Her initial instinct was to hide under her covers but then she remembered she had a business to defend and a cat to protect. She peered out from her blankets and found Casper staring at her, wide-eyed in the dark.

‘What was that?’ she whispered but apparently the cat didn’t know, either. Damn cat. She got out of bed and crept toward the window that overlooked the back of the café. A dark figure was back there with a baseball bat.

Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God. This is it. See, people always think cities are dangerous, but small towns are where all the worst serial killers live!

Jeanie bit down on her bottom lip to keep all the crazy words from spilling out. Why? She didn’t know. To appear perfectly stable in front of her cat, apparently. Which was a very stable thing to do.

She watched the figure. A man, probably. Men really had the market cornered on serial killing. He looked around, his movements a bit frantic but also kinda like he was confused and couldn’t really figure out what to do next. Maybe he was a first-time serial killer, in which case, he was just a killer. She would be his first victim. How quaint.

Okay, think, Jeanie. Do something!

She ran back to her bed and dug through the covers for her phone, cursing herself for her terrible habit of watching old episodes of Schitt’s Creek every night before bed. Inevitably she fell asleep holding her phone and it would get lost in the blankets. A few times she woke herself up when the phone fell directly onto her face.

Aha! Got it. Now what?

She should call 911, right? That’s what you were supposed to do when your life was very clearly in danger. But was it, really, though? She didn’t want to cause a whole big to-do if there wasn’t anything going on. The whole town already knew about her almost decapitating Logan, she didn’t really want to add fuel to the gossip fire.

She crept back to the window.

He was gone.

She pressed her forehead to the cool glass and peered left and then right down the alley. Nothing. Maybe someone was just cutting through.

She still held her phone clutched in her sweaty palm, Logan’s words ringing in her ears. She could text him.

It was 2.23am. What was she going to say – ‘Hey, sorry for waking you but there may have been someone walking through the alley?’ No. No, nope. That was not the Jeanie she was shooting for these days.

Laid-back Jeanie would look for the perfectly reasonable explanation here. A law-abiding citizen of Dream Harbor was simply taking a shortcut through the alley on their way home from their respectable law-abiding job – probably as an ER nurse or something brave and noble like that.

She tossed her phone back on her bed to prevent herself from doing anything rash. She would not wake up the sexy farmer to alert him about nothing.

No one was trying to murder her.

Unfortunately, her racing heart did not want to hear about that. It wanted to keep her up for the rest of the night.

It was only 11.30pm in California. She fished her phone back out of the blankets and tucked herself in.

She texted Ben.

Hey, you up?

Her brother responded almost immediately. She could picture him tucked into his own bed; his California king-sized mattress half covered in his pack of rescue dogs. He had three, which Jeanie felt was far too many dogs, but Ben claimed there was no such thing.

I really don’t want to receive ‘u up?’ texts from my sister.

Jeanie laughed out loud, startling the cat all over again. Casper jumped down from the bed with a long-suffering sigh. Or at least she imagined he sighed. It was impossible to tell with cats.

Shut up. I almost got murdered.

Again? Why is that always happening to you?

Don’t know.

What happened this time?

I think I heard breaking glass and then I saw someone possibly but probably not lurking in the back alley.

Jesus, did you call the police?

Jeanie paused, her fingers hovering over the keys. She could lie, but then she would inevitably feel guilty about lying and confess to it at the most inopportune time, like in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner.

Um ... no.

WHY NOT?

I didn’t want to seem hysterical.

Damn it, Jeanie. You need to stop with this crap. You are fine. A pain in the ass, but otherwise fine.

Nothing happened! And the person is gone now. I don’t want to waste town resources.

And what about the broken glass?

I’ll check in the morning. It was probably nothing.

It was definitely nothing. But she also was definitely not going to go downstairs by herself in the middle of the night and check. She was not lucky enough to have it be a sexy man two times in a row.

So, you texted me just to get us both worked up?

Yeah, basically. I can’t sleep now.

How’s the sexy farmer?

SHUT UP.

Hey if you can keep me up, I can harass you. So...

He’s fine. A very nice man.

A very nice man?!! Wow, calm down.

Okay, fine. You really want to know? He’s the best kisser in the entire world and his stomach has those lines and his forearms do the sexy flex thing...

Ok, ok! Stop! I surrender. Also, those lines are called abs.

Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had any.

Lol.

How’s life in LA? You going to Mom’s for Thanksgiving?

Probably not this year. Maybe for Christmas.

Oh, no! You have to come! Mom makes me sit with the little cousins at the kid’s table when you’re not there!

Hahaha why?

I don’t know. It’s like without you she bumps me down a level in the generations or something.

Well, good luck with that.

Jeanie wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet. And if Ben got to ask her about Logan, then she wanted some details on her little brother’s life, too.

How’s that girl you were seeing?

Don’t want to talk about it.

But I told you about the sexy farmer!

And now I deeply regret asking about him.

Bennnneeeettttt ... come on!

She didn’t like dogs.

So you dumped her?

That’s a deal breaker for me!

Ben...

I need to go to sleep.

Fine.

That little tidbit was actually more information than she usually got out of him about his love life. All she really knew was he dated but still hadn’t found anyone worth keeping, or mentioning, or bringing home to meet the family. Not yet, anyway.

Are you in danger?

No, I’m fine. Go to sleep. I’ll just rewatch season 4 again.

Schitt’s Creek?

Of course.

David and Patrick forever.

Exactly. Nighty night, little brother.

Night, Jeanie. Don’t get murdered.

Xo.

Jeanie then pulled up Netflix on her phone and pressed play. There was no way she was getting back to sleep tonight.

In fact, she was still awake at 5am when another text flashed on her screen, but this one wasn’t from her brother.

Just wanted to check in. Everything okay?

Logan was checking in on her. Damn, that man was thoughtful.

Good morning! Everything is great. Will I see you for your usual this morning?

Yep. See you later.

See you later!

Jeanie’s finger hovered over the kissy winky emoji. Nope. Too far. She would quit while she was ahead. This was good enough for now. Just right, actually. She could keep things with Logan casual and fun. No need to make things too intense, no need to demand things from Logan that he wasn’t ready to give.