If the shoe fits…run with it! Breeze Cohen senses something is missing from her life, but her career doesn’t leave time...
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If the shoe fits…run with it! Breeze Cohen senses something is missing from her life, but her career doesn’t leave time for anything but retail business strategy—particularly the upcoming product launch for her cornerstone client, Nitrous. No way is she going to let live-for-the-moment Logan Chandler tarnish her professional reputation. Even if the ex-athlete poster boy for Nitrous makes her heart pound like she’s run a marathon. After surviving a near-fatal accident, Logan doesn’t want to waste a minute of life. It’s meant to be lived, ravished, enjoyed—and there’s no one he’d like to ravish more than Breeze. There’s a deep pool of mutual desire beneath her icy façade. He can feel it every time they touch. When a training snafu at Nitrous launches Breeze into damage control, Logan is ready and waiting to lace up and take her for a run on the wilder side— if he can catch her. Warning: Side effects may include a desire to melt chocolate with body heat, spontaneous phone sex, and an intense drive to find loopholes in your workplace fraternization policy.
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249 For Kicks Copyright © 2012 by Jenna Bayley-Burke ISBN: 978-1-60928-568-5 Edited by Heidi Moore Cover by Scott Carpenter All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2012 www.samhainpublishing.com
For Kicks Jenna Bayley-Burke
Dedication
For Mom, who likes this one best.
Chapter One
“You need to put some clothes on.” Breeze Cohen waved her hand dismissively at her department manager. Perched atop a ladder, she stretched her petite frame to reach the third spotlight. “Is it hitting the red stripe of the shirt?” she yelled down. She had eleven minutes until even the earliest of the early birds arrived for the regional best-set, where store managers from all over the Northwest expected to see the entire department store set for the back-to-school season, still two months away. Breeze intended to use all eleven of those precious minutes to make her departments beyond perfect. “Yes,” Anthony said, “but I’m more worried about you breaking your neck on that ladder than getting perfect lighting on the signature fixture.” “It’s all about the color story this set, Anthony. If we don’t tell the color story, then we have nothing to say.” Anthony Hale was the best department manager in the company, thanks in part to her molding him from a jewelry salesman to a manager, but he still lacked merchandising finesse. This was fine while she was in charge, but she’d been pushing to have him promoted. Both because of his abilities, and because he was the closest thing she had to a personal friend. “Red, white and blue on every lead fixture, gotcha.” He laid the sarcasm on thick, which she liked so long as things got done. “We’ll need to check the back stock and make sure we’ve worked every pair of shorts to the sales floor. We only have a week until the fall merchandise starts
For Kicks
to flow heavily. We need to move our shorts or they will be a clearance nightmare.” Breeze stayed atop the ladder for a moment, surveying the sales floor from men’s to jewelry and accessories, and smiled. She’d made it through her mental to-do list and her areas sparkled. She wished her grandmother were coming to the set. Since retiring as regional vice president, she hadn’t set foot in a Mendelssohn’s. Breeze missed her public assessments and private praise. Checking her watch, she saw she had just ten minutes to make sure everything was perfect and morph into someone else. Someone more like her grandmother. The real Breeze came in most mornings before five, much too early for blazers and heels. Standards of dress did not apply before the doors opened, and made it much easier to wrestle fixtures, process freight and climb ladders. Her black yoga pants hung loosely on her hips and a tiny powder-blue tank top barely kissed her navel. Each day she traded nine extra minutes of sleep for letting her long chocolate brown hair air-dry into tight ringlets. Mascara and lip-gloss were applied later, when she rolled her hair into a twist, donned the latest business fashion and transformed herself into a manager in high heels. As she backed down the ladder, she missed the last step and tumbled back into Anthony. Only it wasn’t him. Her rib cage tightened and adrenaline rushed through her body. These were not Anthony’s hands on her waist. Not at all. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Yes, of course,” she found herself replying. Her mind fixated on him. The slight curl in his sun-kissed golden hair, the bronzed skin, caramel-brown eyes, square shoulders. And that smile. My God, that smile.
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“I’ve never had a woman fall for me in quite this way.” The smile turned into a grin. “Breeze, I think we have—” Anthony began, breaking the spell. They both looked in his direction. “Sorry,” he said, glancing from the stranger to Breeze, then back. “You must be here for the Regional set?” he asked. “Yes.” The stranger turned to Breeze and flashed that smile. “I’m—” “Everyone is meeting in the break room,” Anthony interrupted. Breeze shook her head, needing to think clearly. She had no time to be getting dreamyeyed. “Just up the escalator and through the children’s section.” “I’d like to look at the layout of the shoe department,” he spoke to her. “No problem.” Anthony pointed down the aisle. “Just past the dress shirts on your left.” “Right,” he said with a nod, blinking hard. “Right.” Breeze turned and watched how his worn jeans clung to his backside as he walked away. Okay, he was officially fantasy guy number one. Cute face, incredible smile and a butt like that. Fantastic. “Do you know him?” Anthony asked once he was out of earshot. “Who?” Breeze snapped her head back, storing the image away for future reference. She had no time for men or relationships, but she did like to fantasize before drifting to sleep each night. “That guy.” “I don’t know.” She racked her brain, trying to think if she’d seen him before. “Probably one of the new assistants, hired from outside so the brass can promote him in six months. And I nearly toppled him coming off the ladder. Where were you?” “Checking the storeroom for shorts. You wanted to make sure they were all on the floor.”
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“And?” She smoothed her hands on her pants. Why were her palms damp? Why was her heart racing? “All shorts are on the floor. But let’s talk about something more interesting than back stock. I think he wants to get up to bat on your team.” “Please. How do you know he doesn’t play for your team?” A smile twitched at her lips. “He’s probably fast-tracked and will be my boss by next year. Moving me down even further on the roster. Besides, I don’t have time to date, and having a relationship with someone who worked here would be a career strikeout.” “Leave it to you to disqualify a player before he even makes it to the stadium. He won’t get anywhere with upper management dressed in jeans and sneakers.” Anthony smirked. “Speaking of looking professional, you’d better get to it. And doll yourself up, just in case.” She shook her head and turned to go. “Sling-back heels and the short skirt. It will make your legs look longer.” “Are you my dresser now?” she tossed over her shoulder as she made her way to the office she shared with the other assistant manager. No doubt Anthony had selected a few new items from last night’s freight for her to try. He had an eye for what worked for her, and she loved it, except when Christy, her office partner, made snarky comments. She couldn’t wait to get her own store and her own office. She knew the promotion was coming soon, but every time she thought she had it in the bag, an older candidate entered the picture. She’d worked for Mendelssohn’s for eight years now, but she knew being only twenty-six and having an even more youthful face held her back. It was too easy for upper management to say she needed more experience, a stronger track record. Still, she was a hairsbreadth away from becoming the youngest store manager in Mendelssohn’s history.
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It was all part of the retail game, and retail was in her blood. She’d known it was for her when she’d come to one of her grandmother’s stores as a little girl and watched the respect the older woman garnered from the staff. The staff would dote on Breeze, bringing clothes for her to try on. It made her feel like a princess. Coordinated ribbons and patent leather shoes made her mother cringe. Rachel Cohen lectured on consumerism and encouraged her children to follow her frugal, bohemian lifestyle. But her grandmother understood how important it was to look like the other kids. She closed herself in the tiny office and surveyed her options. Lifting two hangers from the hook hanging above the mirror on the back of the door, she held them up, trying to decide. The black pantsuit looked stifling. Even though the climate control kept the store cool, it was still the middle of summer. The other outfit had a skirt and was part of the fall collection, so she opted for it. In seconds, she stood before the mirror and checked her appearance. The pressed-pleat pink corduroy skirt hit mid-thigh, a dainty pink satin bow secured the boucle blazer. Professional, but cuter than she would have liked. She checked her watch. No time to change. She slipped into the shoes Anthony claimed were meant for the outfit—leather sling-back heels trimmed in velvet and crowned with a tiny bow. Sometimes having a gay assistant made her feel like a Barbie doll. She twisted up her hair and secured it with a clip, then made a beeline for the door. She needed to get to the break room and make sure she took an active role in this walkthrough. The district managers for the entire region would be here, and all of them had the power to request her for a store-manager position. Spinning out of her office like Superman from a phone booth, she ran smack dab into a body that sent hers on red alert. Her mystery man stood in the lobby
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of the back office, ready to catch her yet again. He gifted her with one of his smiles and she froze. In response, his gaze drifted over her head and his face marred into a scowl. “I fell on the Kicks brand manager,” Breeze whispered as she pulled Anthony between twelve-foot-high shelves of jeans in the storeroom. “Fell on him, fell for him. It’s almost the same thing. Did he ask you out?” His blond eyebrows waggled. “Would you pull your mind out of the gutter for two seconds and help me?” She wrapped her hands around her middle, trying to cage the panic inside. “How do I recover from this?” “From meeting a man who isn’t a rival, shopper or employee? You recover by giving him your number.” She stomped her foot so hard she worried for a split second about breaking the heel. “He wasn’t here to see the back-to-school best set. He was here to evaluate store readiness for the exclusive Kicks roll out. Remember how I told Glen we should set for it to show the brand marketing?” Anthony nodded. “And you were overruled.” “Now Logan wants to see every detail of our plans, and if he’s not satisfied, he’s pulling the plug on the entire campaign.” “Yikes. But what does this have to do with you?” She twisted her foot on the concrete floor. “I volunteered to show him how ready we are.” He gave a sinister chuckle. “You have to satisfy him?” “Shut it. It’s an amazing opportunity to show upper management that I work well under pressure, that I’m more than ready for my own store. It’s just that it all hinges on a guy that I fell on top of.”
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“Any straight guy would love to have you on top of him. I’m sure this Logan is looking forward to the one-on-one attention you can give him.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leveled her gaze at her best friend. Well, the best she could, considering he was a foot taller. “You know I don’t behave that way.” “But you should, honey. You should.” “My grandmother didn’t get to be the youngest store manager in Mendelssohn’s history on her back. She did it by working hard and seizing opportunities, like this one. I have two years to break her record, and this could do it for me.” “Your grandmother also had a husband and a child to keep her from turning herself into a robot who only cared about work. You haven’t been on a date since I’ve known you.” “Don’t change the subject. What do I say about falling on him? I have like two minutes before I have to take him to the Tanasbourne store.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “You don’t say a thing. Just move forward, business as usual. Sell him on the deal and the first impression won’t matter.” That she could do. Confidence in her professional abilities, she had in spades. Confidence about how men’s minds worked? Not so much. “But this would be an easier sell if you’d flirt with him a little. More girlnext-door than ice princess. Friendly, not methodical.” “I’m friendly, and I don’t need to flirt to make this happen.” “But you want to. You wouldn’t be worried about your clumsy first impression if you didn’t care what he thought of you.” “I’m not clumsy. He was just in my way.” She stood taller, stretching to what had to be five foot three in the heels. “He’s still in my way. I knocked him off his
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game when I fell on him this morning. This time he won’t know what hit him. By the end of the day, he’ll be singing my praises to top management.”
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Chapter Two
“What is it you’re looking to see?” Breeze asked Logan, sitting across from him at her desk. She knew a handful of upper management loomed just beyond the doorway. “I have schematics of the three main layout styles, so I’d like to see each of those in person if possible.” “Not a problem.” Breeze pulled a binder from her desk and flipped it open. “I have planning layouts of all the stores I’ve worked in. No store follows a schematic exactly, but you can see the similarities. Westside, Tanasbourne and Galleria are examples of each layout.” “This is great. Can I get copies of these?” “No problem. I could e-mail them to you, if you prefer.” “Thanks.” He let out a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want you to take it personally if I still need to pull the agreement.” “Business is business,” she said with a confident smile. She only had to convince him Mendelssohn’s could pull this off and she’d be promoted for sure. “I have more invested in this brand than just wanting good sales. Kellen Jackson has been my best friend since high school, and this is only the second shoe he’s endorsing. Soccer players don’t get the opportunities other athletes do. Nitrous wanted to build demand for the new Kicks sole by creating exclusivity. I never thought it was a good idea to hand off marketing and sales training to another company.”
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Great. He’d come here expecting the promotion would fail. She couldn’t let that happen. “But if you pull the agreement now, you’ll risk bad publicity. People might think it has to do with the shoe design.” He shrugged. “Depends on who has the better PR team, I suppose.” “It won’t come to that. Mendelssohn’s is an asset to you in service and distribution. We’ll make this happen, Logan.” He studied her for a moment and then gifted her with his amazing smile. “Would you mind driving since you know where all the stores are?” “That’s fine,” Breeze replied. “I like driving.” Logan nodded and rose from his chair. When he walked away he seemed to favor his right leg for the first few steps, but then walked normally. Breeze took a deep breath to clear her mind as she gathered her things. She had to spend the whole day with him. Ogling was not an option. Six managers stood just outside her office door. They surrounded Logan like shoppers around a clearance rack. From the look in his brown eyes she could tell he needed rescuing. “We’d better get going. There’s likely to be a lot of traffic this time of the morning.” “I was just telling Logan I’ll accompany the two of you today,” Nancy said, forcing the closest thing to a smile in her repertoire. Breeze had thought she’d find an ally in the newly transferred district manager, but Nancy seemed to only want to promote men. So much for sisterhood. “Okay.” Breeze surrendered, not sure if the emotion she felt was reprieve or vexation. “But you’ll have to drive. My car only seats two.” “Oh.” Nancy’s expression went blank. “I rode with Roger.” Relief was noticeable on Logan’s face. “I’m sure we’ll meet up with you later,” Breeze offered. “Of course,” Nancy said through pursed lips.
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Breeze stepped to the door, aware Logan was following close on her heels. Once they were on the sales floor she began to outline their day, what he could expect to see at each store. “Doesn’t that woman scare you?” Logan asked once they made it to the parking garage adjacent to the store. “Why?” Breeze asked, suddenly all too aware of her nervousness. She knew how to handle Nancy. It was Logan who made her uneasy. She hadn’t had the best luck with men, downright rotten luck in fact, so she tended to avoid them whenever possible. Except Anthony, but he played for the other team. “She’s huge.” Logan laughed, slowing his pace so he walked beside her. “She’s taller than I am.” “Really?” Breeze turned to look at him. That smile. The man should do toothpaste commercials. “I hadn’t noticed. Everyone is taller than me.” She pushed the button on her key ring to deactivate her alarm with the gratuitous headlight flash. “A BMW. Mendelssohn’s must pay pretty well.” Hardly. A Z4 was the smallest and least expensive BMW on the market. “I commute to other stores a lot, so I decided I deserved a nice car to do it in.” “It suits you. It matches your eyes.” He opened the door and slid in the passenger seat, cramming his legs inside. She stood still, stunned for a minute. He’d noticed her eyes? She pushed the button on the keypad to put the top down. Don’t flatter yourself, she thought. The icy blue color was exactly what had drawn her to the car. That and the convertible top. She locked her purse in the trunk and then climbed into the driver’s seat. Even with the top down the entire car smelled like him. Not cologne really,
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maybe soap? She’d be sniffing every cologne bottle in the store until she figured it out. “Thanks,” he said, rubbing the top of his blond head. “I don’t think they had me in mind when they designed this thing.” Breeze smiled and started the car. When she went to shift into reverse, she cursed herself for not opting for the black pantsuit. This skirt rode far too high on her thighs when she sat. To heck with Anthony, she needed to get her mind out of the gutter. With the temperature outside, she’d be far more comfortable in the skirt, she reasoned. Or would be if her companion would stop staring at her legs, thereby causing her body temperature to rise by the minute. Putting the car in gear, she slid on her sunglasses and hoped they would cover her nervousness. This was exactly why she didn’t date. This out-of-control feeling, constantly wondering just what the other person was thinking. Wondering what they’d say about you to their friends. She shuddered. It wasn’t worth the mental energy. “Why have you worked in every store?” Logan asked, seeming cramped and uncomfortable in her car. “I go where my skill set is needed. I was in the Galleria for the remodel, Tanasbourne to cover a medical leave, and Westside for training back in the day.” “When was that?” “Management training? Five years ago.” “Really?” She felt the weight of his stare on her face and knew what he was thinking. She barely looked out of her teens. And she knew her youthful appearance wasn’t likely to disappear anytime soon. Her mother barely passed for thirty.
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He cleared his throat and she smiled. He must be dying to know how old she was, but didn’t ask the way most people did. It made her want to tell him, to show her pride in making it so far so fast. She delighted in knowing that fleeing the high school drama of her hometown had been her saving grace, even if her parents still thought it had been a mistake. “So, how is it you were the only person at the store today who knew about the Kicks promotion?” “Everyone is very excited about it. They’ve just been focusing their energies elsewhere. Now that you have demanded a higher standard, I know we’ll rise to the occasion.” She was relieved to be able to talk business. She knew the floor plans by heart. It was easy to sound confident and in control talking about work, a reprieve since she felt anything but. She explained the pluses and minuses of the different store layouts. But every time she snuck a glance, she caught him staring at her hands, legs, body— everywhere but at the road. When she finished explaining, Logan leaned back in his seat. “Where have you been the last three months? I’ve been banging my head against a wall trying to figure all this out, and you explain it in ten minutes.” Breeze allowed a closed-mouth smile to escape her. She was good at her job and she knew it. And if she talked about work enough she could almost ignore the jumping jacks her stomach was doing. Almost. The woman never stopped. Not even for lunch as she toured him through not three, but four different stores. Every person they encountered treated her
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with respect and a little reverence. She was a shining example of non-stop high performance. He’d never met a woman so smart and loaded with energy. She walked at top speed, and even with their height difference he struggled to keep up with her pace. His stomach grumbled in protest and his feet throbbed from all the walking, every break and scar a sharp stab of pain, but he kept pace with her as they made it back to her car. “That’s amazing.” To the west, reds and oranges painted the sky in a perfect exhibition of raw beauty. It took Logan’s breath away. “Yes, Galleria is a well-oiled machine.” She deactivated her alarm and retracted the convertible top without missing a step. “I think Hannah may be on to something. The managers in this district may not be as excited about the program because Nitrous is so prevalent in our market due to having the world headquarters here. Nitrous is an Oregon brand, so all we need is to have it in stock to have great sales. I’m sure stores in other states are more eager to put the plan in motion so they can reap the sales boost.” “Breeze, stop for a second.” He put both hands on her shoulders in the quiet parking lot and turned her towards the sunset. “Look at that sky.” He left his hands on her shoulders, the tension radiating through his palms. Her anxiety was palpable. But why? They’d spent the entire day together. And while she seemed to have an allergy to talking about anything but work, they’d gotten along well. There was an undeniable chemistry between them. He knew better than to explore it when they had work to do, but work was over for the day. She shrugged out from under his grasp and stepped away, quickly putting the car between them. “Would you like me to drop you off back at the store?”
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He leaned his hands on the door and watched her climb in. “How do you measure your days, Breeze Cohen?” “Excuse me?” Her big blue eyes widened in surprise. Tired curls had slipped from her clip and softly framed her round face. “Is a day just a number on a calendar or a chance to see a breathtaking sunset?” “Are you making fun of me?” Her eyes narrowed and she sat up as tall as she could manage. “No, I wouldn’t do that.” He climbed into the car before she had a chance to take off without him. How to get out of this one. “I’ll warn you next time I make a joke so you can fall over with laughter.” He smiled at her hopefully. “Do you always go for the punch line?” She grinned and started the car. “Every time.” “Your girlfriend must love that to pieces.” “She will.” Breeze turned to look at him, but the second their eyes made contact, hers were back on the road. As if he hadn’t noticed the spark of interest there. “What about you? Boyfriend?” “Not at the moment.” “Good. Then I can take you to dinner to thank you for your help today.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why? Don’t you eat? You’re robotic, aren’t you? That’s why you never fed me lunch.” He rolled and stretched his feet, alleviating some of the cramping and ache. “I’m sorry.” She bit her lip, keeping her gaze on the road. “I never stop for lunch when I’m working, so I didn’t think.” “Make it up to me by joining me for dinner.”
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“I don’t think that would be appropriate.” “Why?” “Because you have a very important decision to make about the partnership between Mendelssohn’s and Nitrous, and dinner shouldn’t be part of your decision-making process.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. “I agree. You’ve shown me store readiness and tomorrow I’ll meet with the VP of stores about training and then go over the findings with our marketing, retail and distribution teams. Your role is over. So we’re free to do as we please without that looming over us.” “Have you made any decisions?” “If I tell you, will you have dinner with me?” “Why do you want me to?” “Because a beautiful woman fell into my arms this morning and I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind ever since.” He felt her weighing his words in her hurried glances from the road, but it didn’t matter. He told the truth. “Look, Breeze—” Breeze’s phone chimed to life from where she’d plugged it into the dash. She jumped at the sound and then became increasingly grateful for the distraction. Until she hit the button and realized who it was. “So, what’s the deal with this guy?” Nancy’s voice blasted into the car. Breeze wanted to grab the phone and switch it from speaker, but the car was so small it was likely he’d hear everything anyway. “What do you mean?” She downshifted for traffic. Great, just what she needed. No escape for him to hear her conversation with her boss.
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“Why is he busting our balls over this deal?” Breeze felt her skin prickle with the heat of a blush. Nancy was so eloquent. “I think we came off well.” Breeze kept her eyes on the red taillights in front of her. “We’ll have to make product training a focus, but that was our plan all along.” She tried to smooth things over, the peacemaker like the middle child she was. “Good, good. You’ll have a report ready by morning?” Was that a question or a command? “Of course,” Breeze replied, thankful the conversation was nearly over. “Great. Hey, at least you got to follow him around all day. Did you check out the ass on that guy? Yummy.” “Nancy, you are so naughty,” Breeze chided, wishing the last two minutes had never happened. Of course, Nancy would go there. Breeze shook her head, noting Logan’s gaping jaw from the corner of her eye. “Please, the guy is eye candy and you know it.” She wanted to die but had to settle for choking the steering wheel. “If he needs help with anything else, I’ll take him from here.” Breeze ended the call before further damage could be done. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think—” “Is that how women talk?” “No,” she lied, thankful traffic moved again. “Nancy is just, well, very direct.” His silence was agonizing as she drove them down the freeway. “Why didn’t you tell her I was here?” Because you shouldn’t be. “She didn’t give me much of a chance.” And if Nancy knew he wanted to go to dinner, she’d have snatched him up for herself. “What’s with your name?” He turned as far as he could towards her in his seat.
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“Excuse me?” As if being teased unmercifully as a kid wasn’t enough. “Breeze isn’t exactly Jane or Mary. There must be a story there.” “You really want to know?” No doubt the truth would get her out of a dinner she shouldn’t be having. Watching him nod, she decided to go for broke. “My mother named us after her pregnancies.” His eyebrow rose quizzically. “You’d have to know my parents.” “Tell me about them.” “My parents?” She shifted in her seat. “My mom is a midwife and my father is an obstetrician. They’re really into childbirth. Anyway, my mom thought her pregnancy with me was a breeze.” “Do you have brothers or sisters?” She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested or just being perfunctory. Either way, tales of her freaky family would end it. It wasn’t as if people hadn’t asked about her name before. “Two brothers. Sky is older. Mom was on bed rest with him, so she was always looking up at the sky. The complications with Sky were probably what made me a breeze. Then came my younger brother, River. So named because sometimes things went fast, sometimes slow, but always moving ahead.” Traffic came to a stop and she turned to look at him, challenging him to mock her. “Wow.” “That’s my folks for you.” She could almost hear Anthony whispering in her ear to be nice. “I knew I’d heard the name somewhere. Your parents, they wrote a book, right?”
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“Yes.” Her eyes widened as she tried to look at him and the road at the same time. How the hell did he know about a natural childbirth manual? Her parents’ laboring suggestions had been another source of ridicule in school. “Have you read it?” If he had, it probably meant he had three kids at home. “Actually, yes. Is that weird?” “I haven’t read it.” It all came together now. He didn’t have a girlfriend because he was married with children, and he asked her out to dinner because he could cover and say it was business. She knew he was too good to be true. “Do you have kids?” “Me?” He pulled his head back. “Oh, because I’ve read the book. No, no kids. My sister was on bed rest at the same time I had surgery on my feet. We spent two months on our backs at her house, reading and watching daytime television. I made her read Shakespeare and she forced me into discussing baby manuals. It was shockingly enjoyable. Not the childbirth talk, but spending so much time together again.” “My brothers would never do that.” She turned back to the road as traffic inched forward. Someone buy this guy a medal. Hanging out with his pregnant sister. Still, there must be something wrong with him. She wanted to ask what kind of operation, but asking would mean she wanted to know him personally, and she didn’t. Couldn’t. “I’m thinking Thai.” “Tie?” “For dinner. Or maybe a steakhouse. I’m so hungry I can’t decide.” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Her heart raced as she tried to will traffic to move. She couldn’t go to dinner with him alone. It would be too much like a date. “Why? Are you a vegetarian?”
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“Yes, but that’s not—” “Thai it is. Take this exit.”
“This is not a date,” Breeze said for the third time in ten minutes. Logan smiled at his date, having decided nine minutes ago not to argue the point. “Fine. But if we’re talking business, then you’re buying.” He leaned back in his chair as the waitress arrived, setting the appetizer platter between them. He thanked her and then spun the tray so Breeze wouldn’t have to look at the satay or beef salad. “The papaya salad is good.” He picked up a fork and motioned around the dish. “And the spring rolls are great too. All vegetables.” She spied the tiny piles of food on the large plate with apprehension before spreading her napkin in her lap and picking at the peanut-topped cucumber salad with her fork. Deciding that was good enough, Logan dug in, trying to quell the rumble in his belly and get sustenance to his brain so he could formulate some way to convince her that this was indeed a date, and would be ending as such—with a plan to see each other again and his lips on as many parts of her body as she’d allow. When he had cleared his half of the plate he looked up and noticed she’d polished off both the papaya and cucumber salads. He knew she had to be hungry. He pulled a bottle of pain pills from his messenger bag and downed three. He rarely had to take anything anymore, but she’d kept him on his pinnedtogether feet all day. He would have taken something sooner, but he didn’t like to take meds on an empty stomach. “Headache?” she asked, straightening the napkin on her lap.
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“Feet ache. I don’t know how you managed all that walking in heels.” He smiled wide, hoping she wouldn’t ask about his feet. He didn’t want to have to talk about the accident, the end of his professional soccer career, or the mental anguish at having to rework his entire life. With as crushed as they’d been, his feet had recovered remarkably. He’d never run a marathon, but the limp was practically unnoticeable now. “I’m in heels every day during store hours. Every inch helps when you’re vertically challenged.” She tilted her head, looking quizzically at the plate of food. “You don’t like spring rolls?” He plucked one from the plate, dipped it in the sweet chili sauce and took a bite. “What’s in there?” “You’ve never had a spring roll?” he asked after swallowing. “They’re vegetables and rice noodles wrapped in rice paper.” “Rice paper?” She wrinkled her nose. “Why would I want to eat paper?” “It tastes like rice, just rolled out so it can hold all the stuff together. Taste it.” Her smile was completely irresistible as she handled the roll like it might explode and took the daintiest bite. “It’s better with the sauce,” he said, just to encourage her to let him watch her take another taste. She did, and a satisfied grin lit up her face. “It’s like a salad you can hold in your hand.” “I guess so.” He laughed. “Haven’t you been out for Thai food before?” She shook her head. “I don’t eat out much.” “I eat out constantly, so I can be your tour guide of the best restaurants Portland has to offer. Egyptian, Chinese, Greek, Italian. You name it.” “Egyptian?”
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For Kicks
She must have decided this was a date after all. “Egyptian it is. I’ll pick you up so you won’t have to drive again.” “Pick me up?” “Dinner, tomorrow night. You, me, Egyptian food.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Logan.” She set down her half-eaten spring roll, put her hands in her lap and sat up straight in her chair. “Egyptian is not as risky as you think.” He was not about to let her squirm away. She worked too hard, had shown him as much today. He was just the person to make sure she had a good time. “But we could do something more traditional. Mexican?” “I don’t date.” “You don’t date?” Frustration tightened his jaw. “Why not?” “There isn’t room for it in my life.” “Well, make room.” A tension-filled silence sat heavy between them until the waitress returned to clear and then deliver plate after plate. “You haven’t told me what you’ve decided about the project.” She blinked her big blue eyes as if she hadn’t put the skids on their conversation and thrown it in reverse. What he wouldn’t give to be able to shake her aloof composure. “I’m just one opinion.” He surveyed the plates on the table and rearranged them so the green curry with tofu and vegetarian pad Thai were closest to her and pulled the chicken basil stir-fry closer. “Which is?” She placed a single bite of the curry and noodles on opposite sides of her plate. She tasted each with cautious precision. “Mendelssohn’s needs to focus on training to make sure their employees are ready for the Kicks roll out.”
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“We’re keeping the exclusivity program?” She piled half the dish of noodles on her plate and smothered them with peanut sauce. “Probably. But there will be some conditions, I’m sure.” He slid his foot under the table until it connected with hers. “Can we be done with work talk now?” “No.” She shook her head, the dark ringlets that escaped her clip swaying. “This is a business dinner.” “And after dinner?” He’d sensed the mutual attraction all day, but she’d opposed his flirtatious advances with her arsenal of retail knowledge. He knew she was just trying to keep her own attraction at bay. And all day he’d let her, especially since they were in her stores. But this was a restaurant. A quiet table in the back with low lighting. The only business going on was in her head. “It would be unprofessional for anything to happen between us.” She spoke in her ever-efficient manner, which he already found disturbingly endearing. “How so?” “We work together.” “No, we don’t.” “Excuse me?” “You’re a manager for Mendelssohn’s department store. I’m a brand manager at Nitrous. We work for separate companies.” “Companies with a tenuous agreement at the moment. One which I’d like to convince you we can honor.” An undeniable spark of enthusiasm lit her baby blues. “I have no doubt in your abilities, Breeze. But you have no bearing on a business agreement. So we’re free to explore whatever we’d like.”
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“I’m not interested.” She set down her fork and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I would never jeopardize my career by mixing my professional and private life.” “I’m not asking you to do that.” He set down his own fork and stared into her eyes until she dropped her gaze. “I’ve worked too hard to have people think my success is due to anything other than my professional abilities. And when you’re a woman, that’s exactly where people’s minds go.” “But we don’t work together.” “People will assume the Nitrous account ebbs and flows with how we’d be doing personally.” He dropped his head back and cursed the part of himself that found her protests charming. “Then you’d better give me your home number and address.” Her eyes were wide when he gazed down at her and squared his shoulders. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “If work is the only place I can get a hold of you, people will talk. If you want to keep things private, we can.” “I’m flattered, really. But there’s no room in my life for what you’re offering. I’m focused on my career. I work over a hundred hours a week.” His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Why would you do that?” “To be the youngest store manager in Mendelssohn’s history.” She picked up her fork again, smug satisfaction lighting her face. “How old are you?” “Twenty-six.” “And how old was the youngest store manager?” “My grandmother was twenty-eight when she got her first store.”
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So she was trying to follow a family tradition. Still, that was no excuse. “Aren’t you worried about burnout? Exhaustion?” “I manage my time very efficiently. I try not to waste a moment.” She returned to her food, obviously not wanting to waste a nanosecond debating the issue with him. What she needed was someone to show her there was more to life than work, breaking records, living up to someone else’s expectations. That living life in fast forward meant missing all the good parts. What she needed was him. He ate carefully, watching her every move. Planning how he’d launch his sensual strike on her. There was so much more to life, so many wonderful things he could teach her to enjoy. And exotic food was just the beginning. But it was a start. “You have to eat.” He set his fork next to his empty plate. “I couldn’t have another bite.” She pushed her plate away, a satiated grin playing at her lips. “No, I meant dinner tomorrow. If you really do make the most of every moment, then you can find a way to work us into your agenda.” Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he dropped some bills on the table and found his feet. “I thought I was paying,” she said, reaching for her purse. “Then it wouldn’t be a date.” He took her hand and pulled her up beside him. With her body flush against his, a feverish awareness heated his blood. How he wanted to take advantage of the situation. But he knew if he moved too fast, it would be the last he ever saw of Breeze Cohen. “This is not a date.” Her statement made him grin. Keeping her hand in his, he led her out of the restaurant and back to her car.
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For Kicks
“It is a date, Breeze.” He backed her up to her side of the car, stepping closer so she couldn’t duck away. “No, it’s not.” A hint of laughter danced in her eyes. “Then why am I doing this?” He ran his finger along her jawbone and her breath hitched as he tipped her chin up. Her eyes darkened to a cobalt blue as he neared, long lashes fluttering closed as he lowered his mouth over hers. All her resistance evaporated. In the kiss he only tasted intuitive surrender. She melted into him just as she had when she’d fallen into his arms that morning. Wholly and without the slightest reservation. His lips glided softly against hers, gently coaxing her into far more forbidden territory. He threaded his hand into her thick curls and slanted her mouth more securely against his. Her purse dropped to the ground with a distant thud and her hands reached for him. One hand rested on the arm he had braced against the car door. The other moved between them. She touched his chest tentatively with her fingertips, her palm, then flattened against him. Logan felt the imprint of her splayed hand through the thin fabric of his shirt as if she’d branded him without ever touching his skin. A breathy moan parted her lips, opening her to him. He dipped inside, tasting her, drowning in a softness that seemed to go on forever. Knowing this was as far as she’d let things go, he took his time. Sampling, learning, enjoying. Greed and lust had him stepping closer still, pressing the length of her body against his, and she froze, stiffening beneath his hands. Sensing her doubts, he drew his mouth away but couldn’t bring himself to lose contact yet. He brushed his thumbs along her jaw and pressed his forehead to hers. “Dinner, tomorrow.”
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“Logan.” She frowned, her finger tracing her slick bottom lip. “I don’t think—” “Breeze, if I have to kiss you again to convince you I’m not sure I can stop there.” She nodded. “Dinner. Tomorrow.”
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Chapter Three
Breeze floated into her office the next morning and grabbed the black pantsuit from the back of the door. Exhaustion should have set in after her marathon day yesterday, the restless sleep filled with echoes of Logan’s kiss, and arriving at the store by five to work new freight to the sales floor. But long days were nothing new. And that kiss still had her walking on air. Not to mention her dreams. As she changed, her skin prickled with heat at the memory of some of the things her unchecked mind had come up with. The thrill that Logan liked her and she liked him warmed her from within. And really, they weren’t working together. Technically. She groaned and twisted her unruly curls into submission. It was a terrible idea to get involved with him during such an important project. She knew that. Both times she’d tried to balance dating and her career had ended badly. Before a second date, at the moment they got grabby or demanding. This was the part she enjoyed. Before she was disappointed and pressured. While he was still enough of a stranger to be everything she needed. Before reality set in. “Breeze?” The intercom crackled. “Judy’s on line two.” The vice president of stores might be one of her grandmother’s closest friends, but she’d never called directly before. Pressing the buttons to find the call, Breeze greeted her.
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“I can’t believe this.” Judy’s anger seethed through the line. “They cancelled my flight. There’s no way I can make it there in time for the meeting with Nitrous. Michael flew home last night, so Nancy is the closest. Does she have the product knowledge to take this meeting?” “Judy, I’m not sure I can—” “I take it that’s a no. You’ll need to be there.” “Me?” Blood pounded in her ears and her stomach twisted. The potential of spending time with Logan disappeared faster than doorbusters the day after Thanksgiving. “I’m still an assistant. Don’t you think a store manager would have more clout with them?” “Michael said no one knows the program better than you.” Her pulse raced. This was exactly the kind of opportunity she needed to earn a promotion. She wished it didn’t have to be at the expense of a chance with Logan. “I’ll be there for whatever you need.” “Thank you. Nancy will pick you up for the meeting to present our training program to their retail group, and then there’s lunch with a few of their project leads.” “I’ll be ready.” Another day of floor time lost to this project. She’d have to cancel dinner with Logan to make up for it. But since she’d become so involved in the project, she should do that anyway. “We appreciate all you’re doing, Breeze. How prepared you were right out of the gate. It doesn’t go unnoticed.” Then promote me already. “Thank you.” “If we lose the Kicks account, Mendelssohn’s will have less than a week to redo the entire back-to-school advertising campaign. Promise what you have to in there to make this work.”
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“Whatever it takes.” She forced a smile over the fear. This was her shot. It could launch her or crush her. Either way, her career would never be the same.
Breeze let Nancy monopolize the conversation all through lunch. That way she could focus on pushing her baby lettuce leaves around her plate. And try not to think about how her boss had nearly blown the entire campaign. About how she’d had to promise to personally train staff throughout the country in the next three weeks. She hated lunching with Nancy. Nancy was always on some obscure diet that required detailed ordering, and then every waiter was berated for messing up her instructions. She’d then delve into a proselytizing explanation of how this eating plan had changed her life. Today was no exception. Logan listened politely as Nancy instructed on the necessity of flax seed oil and then ordered a bacon double cheeseburger and devoured it with flourish. “Of course, Breeze is one of those who eats whatever she wants,” Nancy fired her way, wakening her to the conversation. Breeze had explained to Nancy over a dozen times she’d been raised a strict vegetarian. But Nancy never remembered a word said to her unless it could be used to get her something. Breeze shrugged, glad for the reprieve from her imagination. Her sensual fantasies of the man across the table were plaguing her thoughts. Having to cancel dinner was one thing, but having to end everything completely didn’t sit as well. Not even Nancy’s presence or the nutrition lesson could bring her out of the fog. Which was exactly why she needed to end things. She couldn’t afford to be this distracted.
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She felt Logan’s eyes on her, yet she didn’t dare meet them. What happened to her body when she looked at him was so strong it felt tangible, and she didn’t dare give herself away. No denying they were working together now, which meant everything outside of their professional relationship was out of the question. She reached for a roll and realized why she hated business lunches. Sharing a meal had always been an intimate affair with her family, no matter how many were at the table. Everyone would hold hands for the blessing, breathing in her mother’s latest creation, the hearty aroma of freshly baked bread and the crisp scent of fresh herbs sprinkled over everything. There were no walls between people, no judgments. Just conversation and laughter. Exactly the atmosphere Logan had tried for last night at dinner. A nudge under the table brought her back to work. “Don’t you agree, Breeze?” Nancy asked. Logan shook his head slightly, but not wanting to look directly at him she couldn’t guess why. “Well,” Breeze began, wondering just what she was to be agreeing or disagreeing with. “Of course you do,” Nancy finished for her. “Carbohydrates are killing Americans. High protein is the only way.” It took every fiber of her being not to roll her eyes. “I’ve never tried it.” “You should. It will be so much easier for you when you’re on the road.” A sharp kick in the shin had her looking up, finally meeting Logan’s gaze. His brown eyes were smiling, but his face remained stoically calm. Not a hint of the perpetual flirting from yesterday. But then, he was kicking her under the table.
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For Kicks
“How will you handle being away for so long?” Logan asked, lifting a french fry. “A project of this magnitude is bound to cause some inconvenience.” “Nothing I can’t handle.” Her mental to-do list swirled. She needed to revise the schedule at work, put a month of plans in place for all her department managers, and talk Anthony into feeding her fish. She swallowed hard. The last time she’d been away, she’d come home to two of her precious goldfish floating. They were just goldfish, she knew. But the fifty-gallon tank brought a sense of tranquility to her life. No matter how many snails she put in to keep it clean or plants she loaded it up with before she left, they’d still need to be fed. She’d bought two dozen fish four years ago when she bought her condo. A few didn’t make it the first month, and now she was down to nine overgrown fish blowing bubbles when she wandered in after dark each night. She blinked back to the conversation. It was ridiculous to be getting sentimental about fish. Breeze caught Logan watching her from the corner of his eye. Did he realize this month-long project meant not just the end to dinner, but to anything more? Did he care? Forcing the indulgences from her mind, she sat up straighter and listened attentively to the conversation. Until Logan’s warm sock-covered foot began to slowly creep past the strap of her heel and beneath her pant leg. Not daring to kick him away lest she hit Nancy, she did her best to ignore him. At least in her mind. Her body seemed incapable of ignoring Logan Chandler. “I’d like a copy of your itinerary when you have it worked out.” Logan lifted his napkin from his lap, laid it on the table and folded it into quarters. “We have in-store marketing representatives in every state who’ll be able to give us feedback. I wouldn’t want to rate your improvement in an area you haven’t visited yet.”
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“I’ll be sure to get you a copy.” Nancy swirled the ice in her glass. “Our travel department is already hard at work coordinating everything.” “When will you be leaving?” Logan asked, stalling her heart. “We’re hoping tomorrow,” Nancy chimed in. “There is a regional set in Minnesota, and she’d start the program there.” “Your dedication to your job is amazing.” He finished his cola and set the glass down with a thud. “I hope Mendelssohn’s appreciates your sacrifice.” “Absolutely,” Nancy answered. “Breeze will be compensated with vacation time for all the extra hours she’ll be working. And being visible in so many markets will open her up to new avenues for promotion. Though of course, I plan on keeping her close.” Breeze merely quirked an eyebrow as her thoughts spun in a new direction. She hadn’t taken a vacation since she’d been hired, always opting to take the cash payout and sock the money away in her bank account, so that promise held little appeal. But more avenues for promotion? Now that was something to hold on to. Becoming the youngest store manager had always been her focus, and she’d volunteered for this project in hopes of securing that spot. So why did the thought of it happening anywhere outside her district seem so bittersweet?
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Chapter Four
“What do they expect me to wear?” Breeze tossed clothes about the room. “How in the world am I supposed to look presentable for thirty days on one suitcase? How?” “You could take two,” Anthony offered, sorting outfits on the bed. “Have you seen that itinerary?” Lonnie, Anthony’s partner, yawned and stretched his thin arms over his head. “She’s in an airport almost every day. That’s a lot of lugging. Plus, they usually have her going from the airport to the store, and not checking into her hotel until after, if at all. She doesn’t even get to stay in Utah. Back-to-back red-eye flights. I get tired just thinking about it.” Breeze leaned against the wall, closed her eyes and shook her head. At Lonnie, at the situation, at the time. She hadn’t made it home from the store until ten, and even with Anthony and Lonnie helping her pack for her pre-dawn flight tomorrow, it was nearly midnight. “Just buy something new each day, Breeze,” Anthony offered, unzipping her garment bag. “Charge it to the store.” “I don’t want to buy clothes I already own at home.” She pulled open a drawer and began to count. “I don’t even have thirty pairs of underwear.” “Hotels have cleaning services.” “Not same day, I don’t think.” She grabbed up as many pairs of white cotton panties as she owned. “Where are the ones we bought you?” Lonnie asked, eyeing her underwear choice.
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“They were a joke, and I knew it.” She stuffed each pair into the zippered compartment of her rolling suitcase. “But will they get you to thirty?” Anthony quirked an eyebrow. With a huff, Breeze marched to her closet and retrieved the box of lacy underthings that had been her holiday gift from her closest friends. Her only friends if she wanted to think about it. She didn’t. “You girls fight it out. I’ll be on the couch when you’re done in here.” Lonnie retreated from the doorway. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you both up so late.” Pulling the scraps of silk and lace from the box, Breeze was chagrined to find she did in fact own thirty pairs of panties. “That’s what friends are for. And besides, what’s good for you is good for me. Thanks for recommending I fill in for you.” “There’s no one else I trust. This way they’ll have no reason not to promote you when my slot opens up.” She smiled and stepped back to her closet. “Can I get away with only two pairs of shoes?” “Sneakers, the black slingbacks, cream sandals and the navy heels.” “That’s four.” She picked up the shoes he’d indicated. He shrugged. “It’s not like you’re packing boots.” “Your boyfriend is on his way over,” Lonnie said from the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. Breeze froze halfway between the closet and the bed. “Excuse me?” “Logan,” Lonnie answered. “Do we know Logan?” “He’s from Nitrous,” Anthony explained. “Why is he calling you at home, at midnight? Breeze, honey. That’s a booty call.”
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For Kicks
“I’m not—he’s—” Words eluded her completely. “I didn’t even hear the phone.” She loved Anthony and Lonnie, but they loved gossip. And Logan Chandler at her apartment at midnight? That would make the rounds before the doors opened tomorrow. “Is he cute?” Lonnie cocked a hip against the doorway to the bedroom. “In a David Beckham kind of way,” Anthony answered. “Why is he calling you at home?” How could he do this? Incite gossip on the eve of her biggest project ever? “I don’t—” “On her cell, technically,” Lonnie said. “He wanted to know what time her flight was so he could give her some visual material.” Lonnie waggled his brows. “Probably just handouts. Here I was thinking you had something going on. I should have known better.” Anthony sighed and laid another outfit across the bed. “You’ll have to mix and match.” “Or, Logan could come visit you and bring you new clothes,” Lonnie piped in. “If he looks like David Beckham, he should come get them from me.” “Mix and match it is.” Blood pounded in her ears and her chest tightened. Why was Logan really coming here? She tried to pay attention to Anthony as he came up with ways to stretch four outfits into twelve, but she doubted even he believed it could be done. They packed things tightly into the rolling bag. This bag, plus her overnight and laptop. Talk about lugging things around. Maybe she should just pack pajamas and pick up new stuff at each store. Anthony offered to help her get everything to the front door, but she wanted to make sure she could manage on her own. Finding a way to stack it all so she
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could roll it, she parked the lot by her front door and turned, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Thanks, guys, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” “You sure you don’t want a ride to the airport in the morning?” Anthony asked. “The town car will be fine.” She stepped forward, hugging them both. “And thanks for feeding the fish.” “I just hope they all make it through this time.” Lonnie let out another yawn. “You want us to stay for Beckham?” “Is he really coming?” “He said he had some stuff for you to take with you. I gave him directions.” Lonnie leaned his head on Anthony’s shoulder. “Good luck finding room for whatever it is.” “We can stay,” Anthony offered. “No, you two go home and get some rest. Who knows what his call was about.” She pulled open the door and hugged them again before they walked out. Bolting the door shut, she unraveled her hair from the clip and shook it out with her fingers. She wondered what Logan could possibly want at midnight. Her pulse raced as she thought what an unannounced visit like this might lead to if she were someone else, someone who hadn’t already learned that lesson well. Soft knocking on her door vibrated through her tense body. Wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans, Breeze tried to quell her fluttering stomach. She checked the peephole and her mouth went dry. She’d never had a man in her condo who she wasn’t paying to fix something. Even then, Lonnie usually let them in.
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She opened the door slightly and stood in the gap. “You know it’s after midnight?” “I was waiting for them to leave. I don’t think the guy on the phone bought my cover. They’re together, right?” “Who?” she stalled, wanting to know just what Logan was after before she let him into her home. “The big one is your assistant. I recognize him from the walk through.” He cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes twinkling. “Let me in, Breeze. We need to talk.” “Maybe when I get back. It’s really not appropriate.” “Why not?” He braced a hand on her doorframe and leaned closer. “It’s unprofessional for us to see each other personally when we work together.” “We don’t work together.” He shook his head. “We spent the whole day at work together,” she reminded him. “And what’s in your hand? More work?” “But it’s not like you work for me.” “You’re splitting hairs. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll be gone for almost a month. And when I get back I’ll have a lot of catching up to do.” She ran a hand through the mass of curls, wishing she’d looked in a mirror after removing the clip. “And then I’ll be running into the holiday season. It’s not fair to ask you to wait.” “I’m not planning on waiting.” He pushed her door open with his hand but stayed on the landing. “You’re not coming in. I’m not someone you can call at midnight and think coming over means…that we’re going to…” She waved her hand through the air, trying to make her point and push away the erotic scenes unfolding in her mind.
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“To what, Breeze? What is it you think I want to do?” He stepped closer, his toes on the edge of her welcome mat. He probably expected her to step away, but she held her ground and his gaze. “I don’t care.” She lifted her stubborn chin. He dropped his voice to a deep whisper. “Oh, but you do. You want to know if what I had in mind matches up with what’s running through your thoughts right now.” Her skin flushed a telltale pink, letting Logan know he was right. He knew he had one shot to get her to open her mind to the possibility of them together before she disappeared for a month. He needed her to agree to let him call and visit and make sure she took some downtime. Though his brief glimpse at the schedule Mendelssohn’s had faxed him showed little room for fun. “You want me to go?” She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. He reached for her hand and pulled it to him while she stayed still as a statue. He raised her wrist to his lips and felt the pulse point thrum. “You don’t want me to leave yet.” Her eyes fluttered open, the icy color melting into a blue like the center of a flame. His temperature rose at the sight, heating his blood to simmering. “Let me in, Breeze.” He clutched the stack of promotional photos tighter in his hand and considered throwing them to the ground. She stepped aside, each breath deep and labored. He stepped into the room and she backed against the door and then closed it. The only light in the room came from the glow of a large fish tank that was filled with greenery and gurgled softly. She watched him intently, eyeing the photos as he set them on her suitcase. “I thought I might need a cover. You don’t really need them.” He stepped to her
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and she pressed herself tighter against the door. He lifted a hand to her cheek and slid his fingers along the smooth skin. Her eyes opened wider, showing so much emotion he couldn’t guess what it all meant. Stunned, mesmerized, frightened. Wanting to calm her, he didn’t move closer, but instead indulged his curiosity and slid his fingers into her thick curls. There wasn’t a tangle in the silken strands, just tight, smooth ringlets. Her hair intrigued him. It was so beautiful, yet she kept it twisted and hidden most of the day. The smooth glide of his fingers held an erotic effect he hadn’t counted on, but then so did most things about her. “Logan?” she whispered, peering up at him. “No one will know, not unless you want them to.” “I can’t risk it. I’m so close to getting everything I’ve ever wanted.” “Me too.” Fisting his hand in her hair, he tipped her face to him, looking in her eyes so there would be no mistaking just what he meant. And then he lowered his lips to hers and showed her. It would never have worked out. Even if the man did have a superb skill for kissing. Breeze rubbed her eyes and checked her watch. The plane had sat on the runway for eighteen minutes now. Eighteen minutes she couldn’t have her laptop on, couldn’t work on the notes she’d made after today’s training classes. Four days into this marathon business trip and she had everything nearly perfect. Which scared her almost as much as not wanting to tell Logan no that night at her condo. His cologne must have pheromones in it because she’d wanted him, really wanted him. The impact of his kisses was like nothing she’d ever
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experienced. She had no frame of reference for how she was supposed to react. And so she’d opted for self-preservation. He didn’t understand, didn’t see how being caught with him could jeopardize the professional respect she’d worked so hard to attain. He’d even been so bold as to ask her if she was just using work as a front, a way to keep something between them. No matter how right on he was, she’d never admit it. Work was all she had, and no temporary thrill was worth risking her future. And she would be temporary to Logan Chandler. Huffing a sharp breath, Breeze reached into her laptop bag and drew out one of the books she’d picked up at the airport bookstore—an illustrated guide to astrology. She’d never put much faith in the stars, but she hated to be bored. Hated having time to overthink things. Almost as much as she hated sitting still. It was one of the reasons she worked so much. Her brain on idle was a scary place to be. Breeze took a deep breath, opened the pages and skimmed them one by one. The first book she’d bought on day two of the trip had been a guide to speedreading. With so much free time on her hands she figured she might as well learn something. And why read slowly when you can get through a book on each short plane ride? Information swirled in her mind as she felt the plane taxi for takeoff. The zodiac, elements, qualities and polarities, planets, houses, angles and progressions. And then she came to relationship astrology. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase, “Hey baby, what’s your sign?” With a slight chuckle, she read on, her pulse racing as she read that attraction can be instant between two opposite signs. And then she laughed out loud when she read about her sign. Leos were supposed to have a sex drive so strong they
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demanded regular satisfaction. If that were true she wouldn’t have sent Logan home. She also didn’t take too kindly to being labeled as vain. Yes, she cared about appearances, but vain she was not. She slammed the book shut and stared out the window as the plane cruised over Nebraska farmland. She was finally getting to see the country, from the air. She’d been to plenty of other stores, but always in the same time zone. If only she had time to look around, or the chutzpah to explore by herself. She had all the confidence in the world inside a department store, but she’d grown up in a very small town and felt like she stuck out in big cities like a sweater on a swimsuit rack. At the next airport she’d have to pick up a travel book about the states she was going to visit. Sure, they all looked the same. Similar hotel-room floor plans, comparable department-store layouts. But technically she was hopping state lines. Maybe when she made regional manager she’d opt for an extra day at the end of visits to check out a sight or two. But not now. Now she needed to focus on working in as many store visits as possible to make sure Kicks rolled out smoothly and she got all the appreciation. And a promotion. Perhaps her smile was smug as she reopened the book, but she deserved the recognition. Even if this trip gave her way too much time to do mindless things like read about astrology. And wonder just how to work “hey baby, what’s your sign” into a conversation with Logan. “Help me.” Logan leaned across the counter at his sister’s house and picked up an apple. “Logan, she’s right,” Janelle answered, plucking the fruit from his grasp and placing it back in the bowl. “This isn’t a good idea.”
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“What isn’t a good idea?” Janelle’s husband, Marc, walked into the kitchen, a freshly scrubbed Ashley on his hip. The redheaded toddler squealed and reached for her mother. “Don’t—” Logan tried to stop her, but Janelle kept nothing from Marc. “Logan is crushing on the Mendelssohn’s rep organizing the training for the Kicks roll out.” “Janelle.” He knew he sounded like a whining teenager, but was nothing sacred? “Really?” Marc handed Ashley over. “I thought you said she’d be traveling to make sure things worked smoothly on their end.” “She is. He wants me to tell him how to win her over when he meets up with her.” “Oh, buddy, you have it bad.” “What’s worse, he’s trying to tell me it’s work related. Like she needs him to make sure she doesn’t get burned out.” “Would you two please stop talking about me like I’m some kind of sitcom?” Logan grabbed the apple again and snatched a bite before Janelle could swipe it away. “So stop acting like one.” Marc leaned against the tiled countertop. “If you want to see her, call and arrange it.” “She won’t answer his calls.” Janelle had the nerve to laugh. “This is not funny.” “It serves you right.” “Excuse me? You’re my family. You’re supposed to be on my side.” “I’m a woman, and with as many women as you’ve made miserable, it’s about time one made you squirm.”
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“Thanks a lot.” He crunched into the apple, then tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean I’ve made women miserable? I’m a nice guy.” “Yeah, until they want to take you home to meet their parents or talk about the holidays. It all starts feeling too serious and you worm your way out of it.” Janelle handed Ashley off and promised to be up to read her a story in just a minute. “You’re exaggerating.” He took another bite and rested his elbows against the counter. “I don’t see any point in involving families if the relationship isn’t going to the next level.” “You never make it to the next level.” “Neither did you before Marc. Sometimes all you have is attraction, and that unravels. I’m waiting for something that coils tighter. Unbreakable. Like you and Marc, or Mom and Dad. Besides, this isn’t about that. Breeze is so wound up she’ll snap if she works non-stop for a month. She needs me to help her remember she’s more than her career.” “You only like her because she doesn’t like you. That’s safe, no worries she might try and push for more.” Janelle flashed a knowing smile, making Logan want to tell her exactly how he knew Breeze returned his feelings. “You just want to chase her, Logan. And she has a job to do right now. Let her do it, and play your games when she gets back.” “I don’t want to chase her. I want to catch her.” “Logan, she’ll be back. Deal with your infatuation then. You don’t want to jeopardize the Kicks launch, do you?” “Of course not.” He tossed his apple core in the garbage. “But my wanting to see Breeze won’t do that. It will help. They’re taking advantage of her with this schedule. She’ll turn into a walking ball of stress. She needs to actually live, not just punch a clock.”
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“You have no perspective on the situation. I think you’re chasing her because you see her brush-offs as rejection, and you hate to lose.” She held up a hand to stop his protests. “But you need to look at this from her side. Her managers must have a lot of faith in her to let her take on something of this magnitude. If it gets back to them she was playing around with you during her trip, they’re going to think she was playing with you all along. “And no matter how great she does, it’s highly unlikely Nitrous will trust Mendelssohn’s with another exclusivity agreement. I may work in the IT department, but even I have heard the rumors that Nitrous will never do an exclusive roll out again. You don’t want anyone, including Breeze, to think your relationship had anything to do with that.” “We won’t. We can keep it separate.” He still made his case, though he knew he’d need to look elsewhere for help. “Maybe you can, but can she? Can Mendelssohn’s? I doubt it. It’s hard to be a woman and be taken seriously in business. Especially retail. Having an affair with a vendor is seriously frowned upon.” “But I—” “No buts, Logan. Let her be. If she calls you, then you can pursue something. But if she wants to keep her distance, you need to respect that.” Janelle stepped to him and gave him a quick hug. “If it is in the stars, it will work out.” Logan huffed out his response and watched her ascend the stairs. He looked around the kitchen for something else to eat. His fridge at home was bare, and there weren’t any drive-thrus in the two blocks between his sister’s home and his. Rummaging through the fridge, he found the ingredients he needed for a quick sandwich. “Hey, lover boy,” Marc whispered as he tiptoed down the stairs. “Just go, let her tell you no in person, and that’s harder to do if you bring her a present. I’ve
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been there. Remember I had to wear Janey down for two years before she’d go out with me.” Guilt niggled in his belly, and he couldn’t write it off as hunger. After their parents died, Janelle put everything on hold to move home from college so Logan could finish high school and continue playing soccer with the same team and coaches. “Yeah, well, she had a teenager to take care of.” “Still does apparently.” Marc chuckled and stepped back to the stairs. “Don’t eat all the cheese.”
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Chapter Five
This hotel looked exactly like the others. Even down to the identical pattern on the upholstered chairs. It was almost as if she repeated the same day over and over. She’d check into the hotel, make it up to her room and be asleep in twenty minutes. The alarm clock on the right side of the bed would wake her at six. Thirty minutes later she’d be in the lobby checking out, then eyeing the parking lot for the local district manager who’d take her to the day’s group of stores before passing her off to yet another airport where the cycle would begin again. Whirlwind was an understatement. She’d been inside forty stores in just over a week. With her prior travel and this project, she’d be able to say she’d been in seventy-five percent of the stores. There weren’t many people in the company who could say that. Whenever she got too tired or overwhelmed, she’d remind herself how marvelous this would look at her next review. She gave the desk clerk her name and got out her expense card. Before this trip, she’d accessed her expense account exactly four times, all for business lunches with traveling managers. Now she pulled it out four times a day. “That’s already been taken care of, Miss Cohen.” Breeze blinked, twice. That was different. Her day had been the same down to the pretzels the flight attendant had given her on the plane. The desk clerk placed a paper folder on the counter in front of her, circled her room and the elevator to use to get there. Her key card was slid into the paper jacket as her
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mind came up with questions. That room looked twice as big as the ones she usually stayed in. Being Saturday, she’d stay two nights here. Best-sets were never held on Sundays. It would be great to have a nicer room since she’d be spending more time here, but she didn’t want to deal with the hassle of explaining it to the accounting department later. “I think there may have been a mistake. My company has a corporate plan. That room looks like a suite.” Though with as much as she’d been traveling they should give her some frequent-guest perks. “The gentleman said you would need the extra space to work in.” “Gentleman?” Her heart stalled in her chest. Just who had come to work with her? “Mr. Chandler made the change when he arrived this afternoon.” Logan? Logan was here? Her pulse started to tap dance. What was she supposed to do? Demand another room? Take her chances with Logan? Curiosity niggled her brain, a mind that had spent the last week so ingrained in monotony it welcomed the slightest spark. “Thank you. I’d completely forgotten.” Breeze took her folder and made her way to the elevator. The doors closed when she hit the button for her floor and she nearly panicked. What was she thinking? No, what was he thinking? Oh, she knew what he must think. But what in the world gave him the impression she wanted to share a room with him? Sure, she liked him, but she’d made it clear there wasn’t going to be anything more than business between them until after the project closed. She may have blurred that line when she’d spent too long kissing him at her condo, but the line was still there in the sand.
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The painfully slow elevator gave her time to admit that he’d called twice a day since she left, and he didn’t have to. She’d listened to every one of his messages, but had only answered him through e-mail to make it less personal. It wasn’t as if he could read her mind and knew the reason she fell asleep so quickly each night was because of the promise of dreams he starred in. She followed all the rules. Why couldn’t he? If he wanted to be with her so badly, then it would keep until she returned home and this project was over. Though, even she had to recognize the anger fuming as the elevator rose hid a different emotion. One she did not care to deal with for at least another two weeks. As the elevator doors parted, she came to her senses. She needed to get another room. To heck with being embarrassed, she needed to march back downstairs and say it was all a big misunderstanding. They needed separate spaces, and to sleep with some reinforced steel between them. She stepped out of the elevator and looked down the hall. Suddenly, in her world of sameness, everything was different. So accustomed to seeing the doors line up one after the other, she let out a sigh at the vast expanse of space between the doors on this floor. She promptly walked to the room with the number she’d memorized. Did that mean she wanted something to happen? She shook her head. No, this was purely practical. She wanted a change. And they had business to discuss. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as her stomach knotted and she slid her card through the slot, unlocking the door. The room was easily twice the size of the standard room Breeze had grown so accustomed to. And not a bed in sight. Drapes were pulled back from a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing the edges of neighboring buildings and city lights.
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On one side of the room, just past the overstuffed sofa and fireplace, was an open door. The other side of the room held a table larger than the one in her parents’ dining room. The eight chairs spaced around it sat on an elegant oriental rug. Beyond the table was another door. Was that the bedroom, she wondered, suddenly unsure where all the air in the room had gone. “I thought I heard you come in.” She spun around to see Logan smiling, standing in the doorway on the opposite side of the room. That smile. Why was his grin infectious? Why did his smile squelch her indignation and always leave her momentarily speechless? “I brought presents.” He stepped into the room and she clutched the handle of her suitcase tighter. “Presents?” “One from Nitrous and one from Anthony.” He crossed the room in front of her, opened the door at the opposite side of the room and flipped on the light. “Anthony?” Her chest tightened. What had he done? “Yes, Anthony.” He walked to her with a step so slow she knew it was deliberate. “We got a shipment of Kicks and I wanted to make sure I’d have your size with me, so I called. He said you’d be out of clean clothes and asked me to bring you a fresh bag.” “Anthony.” She shook her head and bit her lip. She wanted clean clothes, but she didn’t want the rumors to start. “I put it in your room.” He pointed to the door he’d just opened. Two bedrooms. Tension released from her in a sigh. A beautiful room, clean clothes and someone to talk to rather than instruct. Maybe this could work. She tried to maneuver around him with her rolling suitcase, but he blocked her way. “I missed you.” He reached out for the handle, laying his hand over hers.
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“Is that why you’re here?” She pulled her hand out from under his to let him take hold of her luggage and hiked her laptop bag higher on her shoulder. “That’s why I found a reason to be here.” He gifted her with that cocksure grin that would drop the panties of most women in under three seconds. Thank goodness, she wasn’t most women. “I’ll write a progress report, and I have a meeting scheduled in Lexington. We have some major competition in Kentucky. It’s not like in Oregon, where Nitrous is the biggest Fortune-500 company. We’re still well known, but not as prevalent on the east coast.” Perhaps he had come to work. Her overactive imagination was turning it into more. Still, as excited as one part of her was at his presence, years of wariness won out. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to share a room.” “That’s why our bags are in separate bedrooms.” He spoke with a slow, even precision that grated on her nerves. He had to know what she meant, and yet he brushed it aside as if it were nothing. “Unless you’re afraid of something. Think you can’t keep your hands to yourself?” She gave him a please-disappear-from-the-earth smile. “Don’t you wish.” Giving herself a mental shake, Breeze walked to her room. She felt Logan behind her, though he kept his distance. Inside loomed an enormous bed. She could lie across it the wrong way and still fit. One wall boasted the same floor-to-ceiling windows and view of the night sky. On the opposite wall, a doorway led to what she assumed was the bathroom. He set her bags at the foot of the bed and put his hands on his hips. “Have you eaten yet?”
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“I’m not hungry. If you give me ten minutes to get settled, I can give you an update on the roll out.” She stepped to the desk next to the door, set her laptop bag on top and unloaded it. Stacking the books she’d collected, she plugged in her laptop, MP3 player and cell phone so they could recharge. “There’s a whole side of you I’ve never seen.” “There are a lot of sides of me you’ll never see.” She turned from the desk, not wanting to know what he meant. She pulled her suitcase and the one from Anthony onto the bed and unzipped them both. “You certainly have a thing for flash cards.” She turned to watch Logan lift her latest discovery. Almost anything you wanted to learn about could be found in pocket-sized flash-card form. She shook her head and lifted the lids of the suitcases. She promptly closed the lid of the bag Anthony had packed. A black lace teddy sat on top of who knows what else. It could be Anthony being hopeful, or it could mean he suspected something. “Will you do a reading for me?” In his hands he had flash cards for Tarot, palmistry, and numerology. “I was curious about them. I’m not an expert. There’s not a lot to do on the plane so I picked up the decks at the airport bookstore. Buy two, get one free.” She pulled out what was still salvageable from her initial suitcase, laid the clothes on the bed and set the shoes in the closet. A big silver bag hung in the closet, the Nitrous logo printed on the front. “Is this my present from Nitrous?” She carried the bag to the bed before opening it up. Two boxes of Kicks tumbled out, along with yoga pants, a stretchy tank top and a zippered jacket. She rubbed the soft material between her fingers. “These aren’t from the Kicks line.” “No, those are from me. Anthony said he was sending dresses and blouses, but he didn’t mention anything to relax in.” Logan thumbed through her
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astrology guide and her stomach clenched. “Hey, Breeze. What’s your sign?” He laughed, sending another smile her way. “Leo. What about you?” She tried to meet his gaze, but he was busy thumbing through the book. “Libra. But look at you. Sex and romance are essential to your happiness, Breeze.” “What does it say about you?” she teased, returning to her presents and unpacking. In the bag from Logan were two pairs of fluffy slipper socks. Definitely not from Kicks, not even from Nitrous. He snapped the book closed. “That settles it. I’m made for love. You need love. It’s in the stars, Breeze. Best not to fight fate.” The sexy scent of his cologne grew stronger and she looked up to find him standing right beside her, so close she barely had time to duck away when he dipped his head. “I don’t know what you thought this stunt would get you, Logan. But I’m not having sex with you.”
“Just try it.” Logan loaded the fork with chocolate and walnut Derby-Pie and held it up. The bustle of the busy hotel restaurant swirled beside their booth, giving Breeze just enough of a distraction to avoid looking at him. “When in Kentucky…” “I’m really not hungry.” She crossed her arms over her chest, gripping the lavender zip-up jacket in her fingers. It fit perfectly. But then he had peeked at the sizes when he picked up the bag from Anthony. He shifted in his seat, remembering what Anthony had packed.
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“Then try the julep.” He’d ordered straight bourbon for himself and the sweeter mint julep for Breeze. Not that she touched it. Simply getting her to come downstairs to the hotel restaurant was like pulling teeth. She seemed to think nine in the evening was an appropriate time to go to sleep. “I don’t drink.” She continued to stare at the people coming and going in the busy lounge. “Why not?” She straightened her shoulders and turned to face him. “Because I just don’t, okay?” “Nope.” “What do you mean? It’s my body and what I do with it is my business.” “So it’s a health thing.” “No, I don’t… Fine, it’s a health thing.” She turned her attentions back to people watching. “Julep or Derby-Pie. You have to experience something of Kentucky.” He held up the forkful and watched her narrow her eyes. “What was your favorite thing about Nebraska?” “I was barely in Nebraska.” “Illinois?” “I didn’t see daylight in Illinois. Make your point, Logan.” “You’re not making the most of this trip.” Or of your life. She was a bundle of energy wound so tightly he got a thrill just thinking of how she could redirect that power. She was fireworks waiting to happen, and he had a thing for playing with fire. “It’s not a vacation. It’s work,” she spat at him. “And I am making the most of my time. I’ve listened to four books this week, read seven, plus there are my
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flash cards. I led twenty-six training classes and I’ve been to six best-sets. What have you done, Logan?” “I swam each morning, went to work, wrangled Kellen’s publicity schedule with his manager, went rafting on the Willamette, won a couple hundred at my weekly poker game, blew that on presents for you, and spent every other ounce of energy trying to figure out how to meet up with you. My list is a lot more fun. And that is my point. When you work hard you need to play hard, and you need to have more fun.” “Fun is fleeting. When you work hard the rewards keep coming.” “But do you enjoy them?” “Excuse me?” She rested her forearms on the table and leaned closer. “I don’t think you do. I think that’s what your books and flash cards upstairs are all about. Something is missing, and you’re looking for it. But you can’t find it in the stars, or in a deck of cards, numbers, or even the palm of your hand.” He snatched her hand and held firm when she tried to tug it away. “Let me show you.” “You are so full of yourself.” “No, I just know how to have a good time.” “I’m going to get my things and get my own room. You’re out of line.” She pulled at her arm again, her gaze darting about the room. If she were really protesting, would she be worried about making a scene? “You want to be with me, and for some reason it scares you. So you hide behind work and your new-age flash cards and whatever else you can think of. Anything, but actually experiencing life, really feeling something. You deserve more. Take a sip, take a bite or kiss me. Your choice.” “Excuse me?” This time when she pulled her hand away, he let her. But he held her gaze, daring her to prove him wrong.
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Without looking away, she picked up the forkful of pie, laid it against her tongue and closed her lips over the tines, pulling them slowly from her mouth. “Satisfied?” “Not hardly. But happier. Every place you land, try a little something. You can’t handle monotony, Breeze. Keep this up and you’ll be crazy by the time you get home.” “How do you know what I can and can’t handle? I’m doing just fine.” “I know, because I’m the same way. And you’re not fine. You’re letting each city blend into the last. It’s a good thing you don’t drink, because then you wouldn’t know what town you’re in or what day it is.” “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” She pulled the fork through the pie and took another bite. “When I was playing soccer professionally, every town was the same. Our daily routine was working out, doing press and then partying. Every moment of my day was about being a professional athlete. It really messes with your head.” She smiled and listened as he regaled her with some of his less embarrassing stories, relaxing with each laugh and bite of pie until the plate was clean. “If I take one sip, will I get drunk?” She raised one eyebrow and swirled the ice in the glass. “I doubt it.” She took the daintiest of sips and then pushed the glass his way. “I thought bourbon was supposed to make you wince and cough.” “Not good bourbon. And a julep has sugar and mint in it to smooth it out.” He drained the glass. “Plus, you let it sit all night, so it’s pretty watered down.” He stood, tossing some bills on the table and then offering her a hand. “Shall we?”
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“I’m still not having sex with you.” She stared up at him, not moving from her chair. “Whatever you want.” He reached for her hands and pulled her up, her body flush against his. She pulled back as if the contact burned her skin. With a shake of his head, he led her to the bank of elevators. Once the doors closed he tried to wrap an arm around her, but she spun away. “I told you, we’re not having sex. And I mean it.” “Yeah, I got that. What did you think I was going to do?” The elevator doors opened and she scampered down the hall. He followed behind, taking deep breaths and reminding himself to be patient. He didn’t do patience well. Following her through the door, he toed off his Kicks next to hers. “What did you think?” “What am I supposed to think?” She turned in front of the bank of windows to face him. “You fly across the country, arrange for us to share a hotel room, bring me presents. You’re expecting me to…to…” “I meant the Kicks.” He laughed and walked to the couch, settling down on it. “I get it, no sex. You don’t have to act like I’m a leper.” “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” “Did I get the wrong idea at your apartment?” She stepped to the edge of the sofa and peered down at him. “Why did you come?” “I missed you.” He held out a hand and watched her eye it with trepidation. “There is something about you I can’t get enough of, and I want to find out what it is.” “And when you do? What then?”
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“I’m not following you.” He dropped his hand to his lap. “It’s sex, Logan. We have really great chemistry, physical chemistry. But I’m not willing to risk my career for that.” “What if it’s more than sex, Breeze?” Putting a leg up on the sofa, he twisted to face her. He barely knew what he was saying, just that he needed to push her, to challenge her. Or he might as well go home now. “That’s what you’re afraid of, right? That we’ll be more and you won’t know how to handle that.” “I’m afraid you don’t understand. I don’t have sex, Logan. It’s nothing personal, I just don’t do it. It complicates life on a level I don’t have time to deal with.” Logan ran a hand through his hair and tried to wrap his head around her words. No sex. He wanted to ask why and argue the point for going to bed together. But that was an argument for another day. After he got her to like him as much as he liked her. “Are you getting tired?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. She blinked at the question and then paused as if expecting him to continue the debate. “I guess it is getting late.” “You want to show me the Tarot flash cards before we call it a night?” “Are you making fun of me?” She quirked an eyebrow, but her grin returned and he breathed a sigh of relief. “No, it looked interesting. You could read my palm instead.” “We could go over my progress report of the roll out.” Her words lilted at the end, letting him know she’d much rather play than work. “Let’s do it tomorrow night.” He stood, taking her hand instead of waiting for her to accept his, and led her to her bedroom.
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“Beds are not meant for Tarot reading.” And seeing him lounge against the pillows of her big bed was far too tempting. He was too tempting. Two minutes with him and she dropped twenty IQ points, losing the ability to think long term. “How many readings have you done?” He quirked an eyebrow and settled himself deeper into the bed. “I like it in here. It smells like you—grapefruit, clean and warm.” “Logan, you and me and a bed is not a good combination.” She could smell him too. The light and sexy notes of jasmine and sandalwood followed him everywhere. She pulled the cards from the box and set it on the desk. “You and me and any flat surface is a fantastic combination. But you said no sex, so we won’t find out for sure tonight. Just sit. I promise I won’t try anything. Tell me my future.” “I don’t—” “Breeze, I heard you on the no sex thing. And I’m letting it go for tonight. So why don’t you sit down, relax and tell me what the winning lottery numbers are?” “That’s not how Tarot works.” “Then bring over the numerology book.” “That either.” She stepped to the end of the bed and sat, keeping one leg on the ground. “None of it is magic as far as I can tell. They’re all about opening your mind and asking the right questions.” “What questions are you asking?” He sat up straighter, his eyes twinkling. “This is your reading, you ask the question.” She shuffled the cards in her hands. “I’ve never done this before, so don’t read too much into it. I only know enough to do a simple three-card spread. You, your question and what you need to know.” She set the stack on the bed between them. “Think about your question. Cut the deck into three piles, then stack them back together.”
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He did as instructed, the slick cards sliding slightly on the mattress. “Do I have to tell you my question?” “I think so. I’m not sure.” Her gaze locked with his and she could just bet what he’d asked. “Why is Breeze so afraid of me?” “Logan, this is about you. And I’m not afraid of you. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” She squared the cards in her hands. “You should ask a different question.” “Let’s see how this one plays out.” With a shrug, Breeze laid the three cards on the bed. The Lovers, Wheel of Fortune and the three of wands. “You see?” Logan picked up The Lovers card. “Even the cards think we should be together.” Breeze snatched it from his hand. “You’re supposed to ask a question about you. Let’s try it again.” “Isn’t that cheating? I’ve heard of cheating at cards, but cheating at Tarot?” “Fine.” Setting the deck aside, Breeze flipped over The Lovers card and read over the quick description on the back. “This isn’t necessarily romantic, you know. This card represents you in the situation. It can symbolize the obvious, of course, but this card asks you to look at your choices and make sure you are willing to commit to them.” “Lord woman, you won’t sleep with me and already you’re talking about a commitment. You’re one for the record books, Breeze Cohen.” Logan laughed and leaned back against the pillows. “What about you?” “What about me?” “You’re card two. What question do the cards ask of you?”
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With trembling fingers she lifted the Wheel of Fortune card and turned it over. New beginnings. Seize the moment. Her heart pounded. Their physical attraction was electric, their star signs a match. Could the cards be trying to tell her something too? She set it down and reached for the third. “Hey, no fair.” Logan grabbed the Wheel of Fortune. Breeze watched his face as he read. “I like this game.” His smile brightened the room and Breeze pursed her lips together to keep from returning the grin. “It’s not a game. The card in position three tells you what you need to know about the situation. The three of wands. Help others while you help yourself. Get ready for your ship to come in.” She stared at the card, the words printed there. Maybe she was being too cautious. Or maybe she was tired and looking everywhere for an excuse to indulge in self-destructive behavior. Feeling the mattress move, she looked up to watch him stand and rub the back of his neck. He shook his head slowly and walked towards the door. “We can do another question.” She rose from the bed, not wanting him to stay or leave. Not knowing what she wanted at all. He turned in the doorway, a sad smile on his lips. “I need to go. I promised you I wouldn’t try anything tonight. After those cards, I’ve never wanted to be with you more. In order to keep my promise, I need to walk away. Right now.” A smug sense of satisfaction rolled through her, chasing away the tiny part of her that wanted to run after him, tackle him to the ground and do whatever came naturally. She knew she wasn’t ready to be physical with anyone, even Logan. At least not in reality. Dreams were another thing altogether.
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Breeze walked to the desk and lifted the book about dreams. It claimed if you thought about a problem before sleeping, the answer could come to you in your dreams. Thinking about her recent dreams of Logan, she bit her lip. Even if she didn’t solve anything, she’d have a great time doing it.
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Chapter Six
“Breeze?” Logan whispered, peering into the darkness at the shadow looming over his bed. He’d been lingering in an exhausted state of halfawareness, his mind running too fast for sleep, too tired to make any sense. He propped himself up on his elbows and prayed she’d changed her mind. Moonlight streamed in the windows, silhouetting her figure. He sat up and reached out for her, his fingertips brushing the warm softness of her bare skin. He sucked in a breath meant to cool his rising temperature, but it had no effect. Breeze was naked, in his room, next to his bed. “You want me.” Her whisper hung in the air. “I do.” His right hand traced her thigh, up over the curve of her hip. Pulling back the blankets, she sank down next to him on the bed. She pushed her dark ringlets over her shoulder, so one perfect breast was bare and proud before him. Unable to resist, Logan reached out for her and cupped the fullness in his hand. Was this only a dream? She didn’t show any of the fear and trepidation that usually stood between them. Instead, when he traced his thumb across her puckered nipple she made a soft sound in her throat and rested her head on her shoulder. He leaned forward, his lips brushing softly across her cheek. Tracing the contours of her jaw with kisses, he made his way to her ear. “What changed your mind?” he asked close to her ear, puffing the hot words to watch her wriggle in delight.
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“You did.” Her bold hands found his bare chest, one working up to his neck, the other beneath the waistband of his boxers. She pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him. Blood pounded in his ears, his groin. Never breaking the kiss, he pulled her and her wandering hands across his body, maneuvering her onto her back. Her fingers pressed into his back, tracing up and down with the rhythm of the kiss. Her thighs parted beneath him, allowing him to nestle his torso inside and feel the exquisite heat of her core. He reached into her mass of ringlets, tangling his hand and anchoring her so he could deepen the kiss, explore every nuance of her mouth as he intended to do with the rest of her beautiful body. They kissed hard and deep, until she began to grind her body against his. She needed more, and so did he. But since she’d been torturing him, making him wait, a wicked thought crossed his mind. He could do the same to her. By the time he finally gifted her with release, she’d explode. With slow precision, he slid his mouth down her neck, circled her breasts, lingered kisses everywhere but where she wanted him. She arched her back, pressing herself to him, even fisted his hair with her hands, but his desire was beyond a little hair pulling. And then she gave him what he was after. “Please, take me. Please.” Her breathy voice was rich with need, equalizing the hurt he’d felt at her constant rejection. But he wasn’t ready to give in, not yet. Every spare second since he’d met her was filled with plans for this moment, when he finally had her panting beneath him, begging for more. His mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue flickering fast against the nub. His fingers found the other, playing her like a finely tuned instrument. Her low moans set his tempo, and just when he guessed she was nearing crescendo, he
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released her, his hands and lips moving upwards to grip her face and seal their mouths in an orgasm-inducing kiss. But her hands had a mind of their own, diving into the opening in his boxers and twining her fingers around his diamond-hard cock. Her hands slid against his hardness, slick and fast. His mind whirred, wondering when and what she’d found to lubricate her hands. Surely it couldn’t be her own wetness, could it? That thought, and her tight, quickening pace had him careening over the point of no return. “You want me.” Her whisper taunted in his ear, followed by a wicked laugh. He sat up with a jolt, staring about the empty room. The biting chill of the air conditioner cut into his damp flesh. His heart raced as his gaze darted from corner to corner, finding nothing but the blankets he must have kicked off himself in his fevered fantasy. Running his hands through his mussed hair, he chuckled softly. The digital alarm clock on the bedside table glared four thirty. Not even Breeze got up this damned early. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and found the plush carpet. He continued to shake his head and laugh at himself as he cleaned up in the bathroom, the haggard eyes in the mirror unfamiliar and more than a little pathetic. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Pre-dawn light filtered through the windows as he crossed the suite, twisting the doorknob on Breeze’s bedroom door in silence. She lay peacefully curled up on her side, the pink ribbon of her nightgown decorating her bare shoulder. It really had been a dream. Closing the door quietly, he shook his head and smiled at his hopeful mind. If she’d been naked, he might have thought their interlude had been real.
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On her tiptoes, Breeze crept from her bedroom to the kitchenette. The sky beyond the bank of windows glowed a sunrise pink. Not unlike the chemise she’d slept in. Accustomed to a freshly laundered nightshirt every time she lay down, she’d been struggling with sleeping in the same one each night. The sleeping attire Anthony, or more likely Lonnie, deemed appropriate was more feminine and revealing than she was comfortable with. But clean had been too much of a temptation to resist. Opening the cupboard, she found a teakettle and filled it. After setting it on the stove and cranking up the heat, she searched until she found tea bags and a mug. Then she leaned on the counter and waited for the clatter of tiny bubbles simmering inside. She didn’t dare let the kettle whistle and risk waking up Logan. Had he been dreaming of her? The dream guide she’d finished reading before falling asleep said shared dreams could predict the future. Gave a whole new meaning to the phrase “in your dreams”. Last night’s dreams made no sense, especially with the ridiculous interpretations in the guide. In one she’d been on a rooftop, the only way down through a chimney. Only in dreams could she have found herself at the bottom, in the middle of one of her training classes. The dream that woke her could have been a memory. She and her mother, tending the large vegetable garden behind her parents’ house. It had felt so real she’d smelled the coming rain, though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Butterflies of every size and color flitted about as they collected vegetables in baskets. She held out a finger and one landed, its wings moving with exquisite stillness. “Look, Mama. I caught one,” she’d called out. Her mother had turned, a sad smile on her face.
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“Let it go, baby. It’s more beautiful when it flies.” “But it wants to stay with me.” She stared down at the purple wings and they stilled. Suddenly in front of her, her mother’s fingers were warm on her wrist, flicking both their arms upward and launching the butterfly. “I didn’t want to let go either,” her mother whispered, pulling her close. “But I had to let you fly.” She’d woken with eyes heavy and full of tears she refused to spill. It was only a dream after all. But after looking up parts of the dream in the guide, she knew even her subconscious was conspiring against her. If she believed in that sort of thing, the chimney would be a phallic symbol, showing her guilt at behaving improperly with Logan. The garden would be a place of peace, the coming rain washing away old ideas, and the butterfly a sign to throw off old habits. Good thing she didn’t buy into any of this. The only thing she decided the dream meant was that she needed to call her mother. Tell her there were rumblings about a promotion before the holidays. One of these calls, her mother would see that she’d made the right choice when she’d escaped the rumors and mayhem to start fresh. No one could argue with success. The rumbling of the teakettle alerted her to why she stood in her nightgown in the kitchen in the first place. With a shake of her head, she poured the steaming water into her mug. Her thoughts swirled like the tea in the cup, but in the middle of it all one idea rooted. If no one ever found out, then indulging in Logan couldn’t hurt her. Sipping the hot liquid, she winced as it scalded her tongue. She knew better. She’d been down that road once before, trusted someone to keep a secret, only to have it revealed in a way so hurtful she’d run for her life.
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The front door clicked, then was pushed open. Breeze gasped and looked about the room for somewhere to hide. She’d counted on Logan being asleep when she’d ventured from her bedroom before her morning shower. He stepped into the room wearing nothing but swim trunks and shoes, damp hair curling over his forehead. His smooth golden skin stretched over his trim, muscled physique. She closed her eyes, sealing the image to memory. Until she realized he might be doing the same. Her eyes flashed open and she held her mug of tea in front of her as protection. Why hadn’t she just stayed in her room? “Good morning.” Logan closed the door with his foot, then toed off his Kicks. The newspaper sat perched beneath the crook of his arm and he held a white paper bag. “You’re up early.” She eyed the door of her bedroom, but her stomach grumbled, hungry for what might be in the bag. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a swim.” “Bad dreams? I have a dream guide that might help you.” She stepped to the table, eyeing the bag. Logan chuckled under his breath and laid down the paper and sack. “What about you, Breeze? Any dreams to decipher from last night?” Intensely aware of his gaze on her, she looked at the window, the colors clearing in the wake of the rising sun and rousing city. “I put as much faith in it as I do the Tarot. But I dreamed of my mother, so I might call her this morning.” “Do you talk to her every day?” “My mother?” Breeze shook her head. “No.” “You should.”
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She turned to look at him. “You don’t know my mother. She’d think all this new age stuff I’m reading means something other than I get bored on airplanes and in hotel rooms.” “It does. But you should call her anyway. Every day.” “It was just a silly dream. If I started calling every day, she’d think something was wrong and chase me across the country.” “Lucky you.” With a wistful smile he turned his attention back to the bag, the paper rustling beneath his hands. “Waiting for the perfect time to call only keeps you from doing it. And you’ll regret it.” Breeze stepped closer, resisting the urge to lay a hand on his arm. She knew he wasn’t talking about her anymore. But asking about it would be crossing the line in the sand she’d drawn. “I didn’t dream there was anything wrong with her. I’ll call though. What did you bring? More of Kentucky for me to experience?” “I think muffins are universal.” The smile returned to his voice. “But these caught my eye. They’re cute and tiny.” He tore open the bag, revealing teeny muffins, no bigger than her thumb. “Like you.” “That has to be a record. Not even six in the morning and you’re flirting with me.” Breeze reached for a muffin and popped it in her mouth. At the center of the sweet corn muffin was a blackberry. “Oh, that is good.” “I know. I had some downstairs.” Logan sat on the tabletop and picked up a handful. “What are your plans for the day?” “The district manager will be here after lunch. We’re driving to Louisville for three training classes.” She reached for another muffin—banana with a walnut hiding inside. “Will you be back for dinner?”
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“I think so. The district manager invited me to Sunday dinner at her house, but I think that would be awkward.” “Have dinner with me.” A new, heady light gleamed in his eyes. He reached out a hand, his fingers toying with the ribbon at her shoulder. “Don’t do that.” She stepped back, feeling his eyes rake over her body barely shielded behind the thin layer of silk. “One false move and the whole thing falls away.” “And why is that a bad thing?” “We’ve been over this, but if you’d prefer I can do a bullet point presentation.” She clutched her mug tighter and prepared to make her escape. “Tell me again. We’re two responsible adults, so attracted to each other we’re having a hard time thinking straight. But you keep coming up with all these hurdles. Saying we work together, which we don’t. Saying you don’t usually date when I’m not concerned with usually, I’m concerned with now.” “And what about later?” she asked, her voice betraying her by cracking. “What do you mean?” “You love the chase, Logan. I think that’s what is making you feel this way. What happens when you catch me? Then what?” Silence hung between them, like the squiggles of dust dancing in the streaming sunlight. Her skin chilled as her heartbeat slowed. She waited. For words that never came. “It’s nice of you to offer to have dinner with me, but I have a lot of work to do.” “You mean the progress meeting with me? We can do that over dinner.” “I’d rather not.” Act casual. Don’t let him know he just crushed my hopes like an ant under his thumb. “Besides I need to do some laundry, repack and get the concierge to ship the other suitcase back. I don’t want to lug them both around.”
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“I’ll take one back with me on Monday.” She grabbed a handful of muffins. “You’ve done too much already.” Breeze marched to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She set her breakfast on the desk, the books and flash cards taunting her. She knew exactly what she thought of them now. With one fell swoop, she cleared the desk, tossing her dreams in the garbage. Then what? What next? Damned if he knew. Logan liked playing things by ear, doing what felt right at the time. And right now Breeze just felt right. He sat frozen on the table, trying to force his mind to think long term. Past the end of this visit, this project, this year. He knew he wanted to keep feeling the way he felt around her. A strange blend of calm and excitement, relaxation and exhilaration. Unexplainable, but undeniable. He listened to every subtle sound as she showered and prepared for her day. Long hours away from him, where they’d both have time to talk themselves out of what they both wanted. He wanted her. On a level he had no frame of reference for and was more than a little uncomfortable with. He couldn’t rein it in or rationalize it the way she did. But then, he had a hard time putting anything off until tomorrow. He’d learned too soon that sometimes tomorrow never came. Sliding off the table, he walked silently across the floor. His hand stalled on her doorknob and then rose to rap his knuckles on the hard wood. She ignored his first attempt at knocking. By his fourth try he’d switched from knuckles to the side of his fist.
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“Would you stop that.” Breeze pulled open the door as his fist was about to connect, freezing his hand in midair. She stood before him, mountains of curls piling over her head. “With all that racket, someone is going to complain.” “Your hair.” She capped her head with her hands, pressing down the mass. “I know. This is what happens when I blow it dry. I become a poodle.” “It’s neat.” He reached out and wrapped a silken curl around his finger. “You should wear it down more often.” “I hate it down.” She turned on her heel and marched back to the bathroom. He followed as far as the perfectly made bed and perched himself on the edge. “I like it.” He stopped short of telling her why, that it looked perfect for tangling his fingers in, that it looked like they’d just gone a couple rounds the fun way. “It’s a lot of work,” she said from behind the partially closed door. “You could cut it. That would be faster.” But please don’t. “No, that would be curlier. I have to keep it long to weigh down the curl.” “Lucky me.” He waited for her to emerge from the bathroom, looking around her room at the neat piles of clothes. When did she find the time to completely organize every moment of her life? This must be how she got so much done. She didn’t stop to think or, God forbid, feel. The desk where her books were stacked yesterday was clear and clean. Even that bit of clutter exorcised from her life. “Did you call your mom?” he called into the abyss, hoping it would get a reaction from her big enough to enter the room. “Not yet.” She emerged from the bathroom, her hair subdued into a French braid.
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Logan couldn’t stifle his laughter. “What is it?” She put her hand on her hip. “I feel like a cradle robber. You look about fifteen in your sundress and cardigan with your hair pulled back.” “I know, I hate it,” she grumbled, stepping around to the other side of the bed and surveying the piles of fabric. “You could take your clothes off. There’s nothing childish about the body underneath.” “Logan.” She gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You’ve never seen me naked. And you won’t either.” “Sure I have.” He tapped his temple. “Let me tell you about my dream last night and then you can make it come true.” Both hands flew to her hips. “You know what—” “I answered your question wrong out there.” “You answered honestly. That’s all I can expect.” “No, I was scared to say what I wanted to because you’re stomping all over me at every turn.” “Well, I have to. Your behavior is unprofessional and inappropriate. And what you keep pushing for, if it got out, it would ruin me.” “How?” “How? People will say I got this project on my back.” “You’re here because you are more prepared than anyone else. It has nothing to do with me.” “The truth and what people believe are often two different things.” She sorted through the clothes, placing them in new piles. “And if Mendelssohn’s loses another chance at exclusivity with Nitrous, and my managers believe a
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personal relationship had anything to do with it, I’ll be fired for fraternizing with a vendor.” “Nitrous is a multi-billion dollar international footwear conglomerate. I’m one link in the chain. I couldn’t affect the relationship with Mendelssohn’s either way.” “I know that.” “Then why—” “You’re not hearing me. It’s not reality that matters, but perception. And I’ve worked too hard to be perceived as someone who lies down to get ahead. Once you are labeled that way, it’s the only way to move ahead. And so my career would be permanently stalled.” “So no one can know.” Logan nodded, wishing she weren’t so preoccupied with her wardrobe. But then, he guessed she was trying to keep busy, trying not to think about everything he was. About how much she was really risking. “I don’t like it, but I get it. For how long?” She hugged the folded sweater against her middle and finally lifted her gaze to his. “After the product launch, at least. When I get back you can give me a call. If you’re still interested.” “I don’t think so.” He slid off the bed and stalked to where she stood. So close he could smell the grapefruit of her shampoo. In a few hours it would blend with her to a crisp citrus smell, but now he could discern her from the fragrance. “Logan,” she warned and stepped back, almost falling backwards on the bed. Too bad. “I won’t wait that long.” “I’m not sleeping with you.” Her hissed whisper held her fear.
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“Fine. But you’re not putting me off either.” An almost violent surge of need filled his chest. He reached out, framed her face in his hands and tilted her mouth up. She turned her face and squeezed her eyes shut tight. “Please, don’t kiss me.” His heart hiccupped. “I can’t make you do anything. But I want you to take a chance, live in the moment, forget all your rules and trust me to keep you safe.” “I can’t.” Her chin quivered and he released her face and pulled her against his chest, engulfing her tiny frame in his arms. “It’s all I have left.” “What is?” “My work. I don’t expect you to understand, but I can’t risk it. If I lose it, I have nowhere to go.” “Work is too important to you. You have me, and a family and friends.” “I work with my friends.” This conversation had taken an entirely too personal, almost intimate turn. She wriggled in his grasp. He let her break free and step to the side. The river of emotions between them was running too fast to try and cross. “I can keep a secret. And show you that you are more than just your job title.” “I don’t think—” “No, you think too much. This will work out fine, you’ll see. Starting with dinner. Tonight.”
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Chapter Seven
Brilliant. Or it would be if she’d thought of it sooner. Breeze typed up her daily progress report at top speed, the tapping of the laptop keys echoing in her ears. She’d decided to train all the footwear department managers in the district at once instead of traveling to their individual stores and training the floor staff. She had to trust the department managers to train their own teams, but she had faith that they could do the job. And the process could be used whenever there was a major training event. The class took longer to show the different training strategies, but it would save her a lot of time in the long run. If it worked, she’d give almost half the number of training sessions. She’d still have to travel to all the best-sets, but after the initial classes, her job would be done. Her heart sank as her fingers flailed. More time on her hands was not what she needed. She was bored out of her mind already. But this would be much more effective. Giving the department managers ownership would instigate a pride in the project, making it a success. She needed it to be successful. Good numbers and an exclusivity renewal from Nitrous would all but guarantee she’d be promoted. And she needed the validation like she needed to breathe. She needed every personal sacrifice to be worth something. The front door opened and she straightened in her chair at the dining table. Though she’d wondered where Logan was when she arrived back at the hotel an hour ago, she appreciated the reprieve from his constant onslaught. Even when
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the man did nothing she felt his desire for her. It was as if she could read his mind. Which of course she couldn’t. Didn’t want to. She didn’t need this complication in her life. And Breeze was through using up her emotional energy on the situation. She forced her fingers to continue typing, though her pace slowed. Too much of her mind was caught up in counting the steps he made to the table, to listening to his shoes against the floor, to the rustle of whatever it was he must be holding. “What are you working on?” His words vibrated through her, his voice light and happy. Was that what so captivated her about him? That he was intrinsically happy? She blinked hard. No more mental energy. “My progress report. As soon as I’m finished, we’ll go over it.” “Good. Let me get this out of the way.” She turned her head to see his meaning. In his hands were two huge white bags. Her eyes widened with each step he took towards her bedroom. “What are you doing?” Trying not to show her rising panic at his silence, she finished the last two sentences of her report and pressed save. Then repeated the question. No answer. E-mailing the report would have to wait until she got a response from Logan. In her bare feet, she tried not to run through the open door. Piles of neatly folded laundry covered her bed. Logan pulled a white mesh bra from the bag and added it to a pile of unmentionables. “What are you doing?” She resisted the urge to hide her underwear beneath a pillow.
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“I’m not packing for you.” He turned to the closet and pulled open the door. “I can barely fit my stuff into one of those tiny cases you use.” Grabbing a handful of hangers he turned back to the bed. “How you plan on getting all this into two is beyond me.” “Do you not hear me, or are you trying to be annoying?” “What?” He raised his gaze to hers, his smile making her stomach quiver. “What are you doing?” Besides mixing the clean smell of laundry with your sexy cologne so that I’ll be able to smell you and think of you every time I get dressed? “Eliminating an excuse. You said you didn’t have time for dinner because of laundry. Laundry done. Now you can go to dinner.” He turned back to the closet and pulled out a red dress. One of Anthony’s bright ideas. Dim bulb. “Wear this.” “I don’t wear red.” Or anything with a neckline that low. High hemlines she could handle in the sake of seeming taller. But plunging necklines held no redemptive value. “Why?” “It makes people look at you. And I hate that.” She stepped to the bed and surveyed his work. Everything washable was now clean, giving the room that fresh laundry smell. “Ah.” He tucked it back into the closet. “That’s why you twist up your hair.” “No, that’s practical. Did you charge the laundry service to the room?” “They couldn’t guarantee it would be back in time. But they have two machines in the gym area and little vending machines for soap and everything.” “Wow.” He’d done her laundry. Personally touching her things. Sweet and a little scary. “So you owe me two hours.” She looked away from his possessing grin, busying her hands with laundry.
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“And I’m going to start collecting as soon as we’re done with the report.” “Logan, I really appreciate the help.” He held up his hand. “Don’t you but me.” “What?” She stifled her laugh and walked to the closet, pulling out Anthony’s floral suitcase and her plain black one. “You were about to but. You’ve had all day to come up with a new set of excuses. I don’t want to hear them. What I want is for us to have a nice meal. Relax, laugh and enjoy each other.” “I don’t want you to think—” “I don’t want you to think either. I’m going to shower.” He brushed past her, so close she felt his warmth even though he didn’t touch her. Laundry was a welcome diversion. She sorted everything into place, deciding what could go back and what she’d need for the next leg of the trip. Zipping the cases shut, she tucked them away in the closet and returned to her computer. She proofed and e-mailed the report, using the printer in the office area to make two copies. Logan hadn’t emerged from his room yet, and there was no way she was going into his bedroom after him, so she went through her e-mail. One by one, she went through two pages of questions about the roll out, floor-plan questions from Anthony, scheduling issues from Christy and Glen. Her mind was so submerged in work, she didn’t know Logan was there until he placed his broad hands on her shoulders and dug his thumbs gently into the muscles that held the weight of her world. “Are you always this tense?” Only when I’m around you, she thought about saying. But it wasn’t true. He did everything he could to make her life easier. Conversation, a nicer room, laundry.
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Why was she fighting him so hard? When he was this close she could barely remember. Her reasons for fighting him seemed to be blowing away with every exhale. She allowed her head to droop ever so slightly, showing a tiny hint of surrender. Sometimes she found the façade too hard to keep up. Her head drooped farther as she allowed herself the decadence of his hands on her. Closing her eyes, she soaked him up like the thirsty sponge she was, feeling his hands, smelling his scent, sensing his breath nearing her neck. How easy it would be to simply melt into him. But that would get her nowhere. She had willpower, was strong enough to resist the temptation he offered. She took one last deep breath and slowly straightened back up. “Thanks,” she said, trying to shrug him off. His fingers continued to work. “Almost done?” “The e-mail is never ending when I travel. But I’m at a stopping point.” She tried to straighten, to show him she didn’t want the massage to continue. But her body had other plans, tilting her neck to the side so he could work on the knot in her shoulder that felt like a rock. “Okay. So tell me the progress.” “I printed out copies for us to go over.” And she should pop up and get them, but his hands felt amazing, better than in her dreams, and she’d been dreaming of him a lot. “You’re right here. You don’t need to read it to me, and I don’t need to look at your bar graphs and pie charts. Just tell me.” Her eyes closed involuntarily as his thumbs dug into the knot. She gave up her formality and recapped the report without thinking, almost like emptying her mind. “That’s a smart idea. It would give you more time to yourself.”
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The pressure on her shoulder grew warmer, wetter. Breeze sat up with a start, realizing it wasn’t his hands working on her muscles anymore. His mouth trailed to her ear, nibbling on the lobe. “Logan, we can’t.” No matter how badly she wanted to right now. She’d hate herself later, when everyone was snickering at her. “We can. And we will.” Hot breath puffed against her ear. “But you have to wait.” “Wait?” The word escaped her before she realized it proved her compliance. “I’m going to make you beg.”
“This isn’t what I expected.” Placing her napkin in her lap, Breeze opened the menu. “And what were you expecting, Miss Cohen?” “From you? Candles, roses and strolling violinists.” She peeked over her menu and watched him laugh. “You try very hard.” “This place wasn’t easy to find. Lexington isn’t known for its vegetarian fare. It’s not like the West Coast, where an avocado sandwich is a menu staple.” “I wish.” She returned to her menu, her mouth watering at all the choices. So often she was relegated to a salad. Though even these salads looked tempting. “Why are you a vegetarian?” “I don’t like meat.” A tempeh sandwich sounded heavenly. But then so did the curry. “What kind?” “Any of it.” Tamales with blackened tomato sauce. We have a winner. She closed it and examined the dessert menu on the back side. “Even fish? A lot of vegetarians eat fish.”
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“Oh.” She looked up at his quizzical expression. “It’s not a political thing. Eat a cow, I don’t care. I don’t like the texture or flavor really. I think you have to be exposed to it when you’re young to like it.” “Your whole family is vegetarian?” “They were. I don’t know if my brothers still are.” “You haven’t asked lately?” He cast his gaze at his menu, hopefully missing the look of panic that must have crossed her face. When was the last time she had talked to River? They’d been so close until she left home. She couldn’t remember a word passing between them since. Sky would sometimes answer the phone when she called home. But that was before he moved out. It had been three years since she’d spoken with him. Maybe four. “Breeze?” Blinking to awareness, she realized Logan and the waiter were both waiting for her to order. She did, smiling at Logan’s choice of the only chicken dish on the menu. The waiter scrambled away and she followed him with her gaze, taking in the bustle of the kitchen, laughing families and couples surrounding them, and the paintings by local artists hanging on the wall. “What’s your plan for Tennessee?” She liked the sound of his smooth, deep voice. He made even the most polite of conversations seem interesting. “I think I’ll follow the schedule next week. I don’t want to cut back the training until after I hear back from corporate. But since Nitrous is on board with the idea, I think they’ll agree with it.” The waiter returned, setting bread on the table along with the beer and iced tea Logan ordered. An odd combination. Until he slid the tall glass in front of her and told her to try it. “I never have caffeine after lunch.”
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“Never say never. Just try it. You can only get sweet tea in the South. I don’t know why, but it never tastes right anywhere else.” “Sweetened iced tea?” Breeze pulled a face, but decided it would be much faster to take a sip than argue the point. The mellow sweetness slid over her tongue. “That’s not bad.” “Drink up. After Friday you won’t be able to get it made right.” “What’s Friday?” she asked, taking another long sip. “Your tour of the Southwest. Why do they have you bounce from the Midwest to the South, and then the Southwest to the East? And why does California take a week?” “Oh, my itinerary. Each region has their own schedule, so I’m at their mercy. And we have forty stores in California. Though only four best-sets. If management agrees to the new training program, I’ll change my flight and go home a day early.” “And miss the launch party?” The amber flecks in his hazel eyes glinted in the light. “What launch party?” “The Kicks launch. Isn’t that why you’re in LA then?” Logan ripped into a seedy wheat roll. “They’ll have a higher-up Mendelssohn’s representative there, but not me.” “Then you can go with me.” “No.” “Yes. These parties are fun, and you’ll love all the people watching. And don’t say people will get the wrong idea. You’re a part of this project and it’s fitting you’d be there. Besides, I have to go. There’s no point in going home if I won’t be there.”
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“Because my world revolves around your comings and goings.” Breeze pushed her braid over her shoulder. “I wish. But I won’t be able to go home until after the party. Once you’re home, you’ll be taking some time off and we can do some fun things. Windsurfing in the gorge, head to the beach, maybe do some sea kayaking.” “Logan, it’s not going to happen. It’s nothing against you. I don’t have physical relationships. And since that’s all you want, it’s not going to happen.” “You think I would do all this, just to get laid?” That was the part she didn’t understand. Why would he go to all this trouble and expense just for her? “You were a professional athlete. By nature you hate to lose.” He smirked. “Yes, I would hate to lose you. But more than that, I’d hate for you to lose yourself.” “I got you something.” Just inside the entry to their room, Logan released her hand and continued to his bedroom. Refusing to follow, Breeze laid her handbag on the table and crossed to the bank of windows. She didn’t want to know what he’d gotten for her. Didn’t want to have to fight him anymore. But she didn’t want to do anything she’d regret every day for the rest of her life. He’d nearly pushed her over the edge. His words from earlier haunted her. “I’m going to make you beg.” She could see how that might happen. If she were anyone else. The sound of rushing water perked her attention, but she fisted her hands and held back the curiosity. She couldn’t go to bed with him, so there was no point even setting foot in his bedroom.
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Instead, she stared out the windows at the starry lights of the city, mirroring the points of light shining down from the universe. She’d never thought much about Kentucky before, but from now on whenever she did, she’d smile, forever holding it as a happy memory. Unless she slipped up and ruined her life. The water shut off and soft instrumental music began to waft through the room. The romance of the moment swirled around her. He couldn’t be more perfect, for anyone but her. Tears prickled the backs of her eyes and she willed herself to be strong. This was only a seduction for him. It was more than that to her. Too much more. “Come see,” he spoke softly, crossing the room and offering her a hand. “I can’t have sex with you.” She sounded technical, matter-of-fact. Why did it make him smile wider? “No problem. We’ll be making love all night. Stop before it gets around to sex.” “I’m not joking, Logan. I’m just not a sexual person.” She tried to sound offhand, casual. Until meeting him her lethargic libido had been an asset, not a liability. Now she wished she weren’t so physically vulnerable. “So you’ve had sex?” he asked slowly. “Yes,” she answered curtly, too quickly, her stomach churning faster and faster. He reached for her hand. “Tell me about it.” “I’d rather not.” She pulled her hand from his grasp. The view promised no escape. Looking down, she saw the asphalt-covered roof of the restaurant between the buildings. She couldn’t even jump to safety.
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Her heart pounded faster, threatening to leap out of her chest. She didn’t want to go back there, especially not with Logan. She couldn’t bear if he thought less of her because of what had happened. Suddenly he was behind her, his palms running up and down her bare arms, soothing the goose bumps that had risen at the painful memory. Her breath quickened. “Please?” he barely whispered. “No,” she managed. Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against the cool windowpane. The chill felt good against her feverish skin, almost as good as his warm hands. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against her neck. She tilted her head to the side and he nuzzled in closer. She tried to breathe, tried to fight all the sensations swelling in her. His stubble prickled her hypersensitive skin as he rested his cheek to her neck. “Did someone hurt you?” “What?” She shrugged him off. “No, nothing like that.” She raised her palms to the glass, pressing her heated flesh to the coldness. “Breeze, I’m sure you are making this worse than it is. If you weren’t careful, then you can get tested, and we’ll be careful—” She spun around. “You’re not going to drop this, are you?” Her jaw set so hard her teeth ached. “No, there is something there. It eats at you, and I want to make it stop.” She balled her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. “To satisfy some kind of morbid curiosity?” she threw at him, her breath catching in her throat. His gaze remained soft as he stepped closer. He reached for her hands, pulling them to him and unfurling her fingers one by one. “I like you, even when
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you don’t want me to. And I want you to like me…and trust me enough to tell me anything.” “Trust you? The guy who tricked me into sharing a hotel room? The one who promised not to make any moves I didn’t want?” He winced at her words. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she held. “It’s not you.” She released herself from his grip and stepped away from him. “I don’t talk about it, ever. It was a stupid mistake. Not everyone has some beautiful memory of their first time. We used protection, there’s nothing you need to know.” She studied the carpet for patterns. “There’s some reason why you get so worked up.” He reached for her again, but she recoiled from his touch like she’d been bitten. “Fine.” She huffed, nodding furiously. “You want me to paint you a picture? He wore me down. Just like you’re doing. I was tired of listing all the reasons why not. He was always respectful, said he understood. But that night his parents had split up and he seemed listless. Lost. I thought it would comfort him.” She shook her head and continued, her eyes glazing over and losing focus. “It was over almost before it began. He fumbled and prodded so much I doubt it technically happened, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I didn’t complain. He drove me home without a word. If only he’d stayed silent. “I knew something was wrong when he didn’t call on Saturday or on Sunday. By Monday morning it was all over school. People were hissing at me in the halls, chanting Easy Breezy everywhere I went. Sleazy Breezy was written on my locker in red lipstick. He and his friends pointed and laughed at me and I ran home. Where someone had spray painted the monikers on my parents’ garage door.
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“It didn’t stop either. There were taunting phone calls, guys coming to my parents’ house. I was mortified. I left and never went back. I moved in with my grandmother, got my GED, and started college. I swore I’d never let my hormones control my life again.” Logan nodded as if he could possibly understand the level of mortification. “That’s a lot of ugliness to carry, a lot of power to give someone who didn’t deserve it.” He stepped so close her only choice was to stare at the button of his shirt or up at his face. Fearing he might flash her that smile, she opted for the button. “I learned my lesson.” “I don’t think that was the lesson you were meant to learn.” Looking up, she didn’t find a smile, just warm understanding in his eyes. “The girls were taunting, and the boys?” She closed her eyes as the ugly propositions flooded in. “That’s not what I mean. You think you were supposed to learn not to trust anyone. I think you should take away that you don’t share your body with someone to make them feel better. You’re not a consolation prize or a bandage.” “I didn’t—” The thought dissolved as he threaded his fingers into her hair and tilted her face up. “After we’re together, you’ll feel the difference. It’s not something you give, it’s something you share. It scares me too, because with as hard as you’re fighting me, I should have walked away. But what I feel for you goes beyond wanting, and I think that’s what’s clouding this for you too.” He kissed her forehead, released her and then took her hand and stepped towards his bedroom. Her feet stayed rooted to the ground. “Logan, I can’t. I can’t handle the same kind of taunts again from people I need to respect me.”
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“I know. I still want to show you your surprise.” He tugged at her hand and her body overruled her mind. Let him rewrite her history. She followed him through his dark room, the drapes pulled shut, blocking out the night. Light flickered through the sliver in a doorway at the back. He pushed it aside, candlelight licking up the walls of an enormous tiled bathroom. Fresh scents of cucumber and grapefruit calmed her nerves. Oil glistened on the still surface of the oversized tub. The clear sheen covered its milky depths. He unzipped her dress, shockwaves following his knuckles down her spine. Did she dare? Pressing his lips to her temple, he whispered, “Relax and enjoy.” The sensation of his warm kiss swirled all the way to her belly. But when she turned towards him he stepped away, not stopping until he was out of the room.
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Chapter Eight
“Make it stop.” Logan burst through the door, holding her tiny silver phone at arm’s length. Breeze gasped, sinking as far as she could into the milky water. She glanced quickly to make sure the bath covered as much of her nakedness as possible. “Get out.” Her heart kicked and bucked like a bronco trying to throw a rider. “It won’t stop.” He stepped closer, holding out the phone as if it excused the intrusion. “For the life of me I cannot figure out how to turn it off.” “Logan, I’m in the bathtub.” She pushed her hand towards him, wishing she could use magic to make him disappear. He didn’t leave, so she tried again and again, trying to wave him away while still careful not to move too much and have anything show above the water. “Between knowing you’re in here, and this thing going off every two minutes, I can’t get any work done.” His eyes twinkled in the candlelight. Carefully reaching a hand out of the water, she inched forward until he pressed the ringing phone into her damp palm. His fingers lingered as she pulled away. “Go.” She nodded towards the door. He stayed, staring at her. She held his gaze for a few seconds, but fearing he just might be able to read her mind, she looked away and wiggled the phone. “I can’t answer it with you here.” “Sure you can.” He grinned. That grin. “No,” she began, then realized the persistent chime had stopped. She looked at the display. Anthony. Eight times in the last three minutes. “It’s work. And no
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matter what your explanations are, we both know we shouldn’t be sharing a room. If someone found out—” “Found out what? Nothing has happened.” “It’s inappropriate and you know it.” Her body sank deeper into the water. She was tired of making excuses. She jumped as the phone chirped to life, water splashing dangerously close. The last thing she needed was to have her phone wiped out by a milk bath. “I told you. It won’t stop.” His smile widened, but he didn’t press. Just turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. Probably so he could watch her get out of the tub. She shook her head and pressed the talk button. “What the—” she muttered when the phone kept ringing. She pressed a few more, realizing Logan must have locked the keys. “Hello?” she was finally able to say. She closed her eyes and wrapped an arm around her knees, sitting up. She allowed her body to relax as she talked Anthony through another unending problem at the store. After lecturing him briefly about security sensors on the jewelry safes, she explained how to override the system. His mini-dilemma solved, he quickly changed the subject. “Have you seen him?” “Him who?” she asked, knowing the answer. “The hottie from Nitrous. He’ll be in Lexington tomorrow.” “Yes, we’re meeting to talk about the progress.” Guilt niggled her belly. Could he tell she was lying? “He has a surprise for you.” “Does he now?” Her eyes widened as Logan marched back into the bathroom carrying a small black zippered bag. He stopped at the sink opposite
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the tub. In the mirror she could see him grin, challenging her to say something as he unzipped the bag, took out a toothbrush, and began brushing his teeth. “He was bringing you a pair of Kicks. But I talked him into a bigger favor.” “What’s that?” she asked them both. Logan merely smiled, pulling a razor from his bag. “A fresh suitcase. All new clothes. Even shoes.” “Thanks, Anthony. That’s sweet.” She overemphasized the name, but it had no effect as Logan rubbed shaving gel on his face. “He’s really nice, Breeze. I chatted him up when he called for your shoe size.” Anthony kept talking, but she was mesmerized by the near-silent scrape of the razor against Logan’s face. She’d never watched a man shave before and it seemed strangely intimate. It wasn’t until he rinsed his face that she could pay attention again. Thank goodness Anthony was a talker. She pasted on a smile she hoped would be heard through the phone. “You’re always thinking of me.” “Don’t be tart. I think he likes you.” “Do you?” Logan rubbed his face with a fluffy white towel and Breeze forced herself to look away. “Or maybe he would like you if you’d be nice. Friendly.” “I am a very nice girl.” If he only knew the half of how much a nice girl she was trying to be. “I know, you have no time for dating and you have a professional relationship.” From the corner of her eye, she caught Logan taking off his shirt, throwing it in a heap by the side of the tub. His hands went to the fly of his jeans and she closed her eyes.
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“But that’s because you work so much you only meet men who work for Mendelssohn’s. He doesn’t.” The rest of Anthony’s argument faded as she heard the jeans fall in a whoosh and the shower turn on. “Don’t you think?” “I’ll take it under advisement.” She forced her voice not to quiver. She looked over in time to see Logan’s sculpted backside as he stepped into the shower and closed the door. She cursed the part of her that was curious to have him turn around. “Just be nice. Maybe wear some of the things I packed for you.” The lingerie Anthony tucked into the bag flashed before her mind. No way. She cleared her throat. “Like what?” “Something that makes you feel like a woman and not a drone.” “I’m not a drone.” Logan’s muffled laughter tickled her ears. Could Anthony hear that? “Then when he flirts, flirt back. And don’t say if.” “And then what?” She hugged her knees closer, looking about the room for the quickest exit. If she got out of the tub while he was behind the steamy shower door, she might be able to escape without revealing too much. “You see if you like it. If you don’t, shrug him off. If you do, well then, you do.” Her mouth opened and then slammed shut. Anthony had a point. It was her choice. She could be in control as easily as Logan could. What happened next could be entirely up to her. “Think about it. And be nice.” “Yes, dear. It’s late. I’m going to turn in.” She asked about her fish and made her goodbyes to Anthony, then switched off the phone, through with work for the night. She set it in the basket of scented bath gels Logan had set out and looked around again, hoping to find a towel she’d missed.
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But her plan of a quick escape was foiled when Logan shut off the shower. The only towel in the room disappeared into the shower, being used by Logan to dry his hard body. He opened the door and the stretch of his taut, golden flesh over the powerful muscles mesmerized her. The desire to touch him, just to see how his smooth skin would feel beneath her hand, threatened to overwhelm her. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to hide the shaking of her body by clutching her knees, folding herself as tightly as possible into the center of the deep tub. Never before had she thought herself capable of such a frightening, intense need. This was for movie heroines and fairy tales. Not hardworking, well-educated, career-minded— “Breeze, you’re shaking. Is the water that cold?” His hand skimmed the water. She felt each ripple as it caressed her body. She peeked open one eye for a split second to see him crouched next to the tub. What if she looked down? “It’s just my nerves.” She quivered, her mind a whirl of erotic possibilities. She tried to will the shaking to stop. “I can’t get over that I’m naked and you’re naked, and you’re staring at me, and you must think I’m a different kind of person because I don’t know how to be casual about this and I—” The fast pace of her anxious rambling came to a halt when she sensed the room go dark behind her closed eyelids. She’d noticed the slight flicker of candlelight before, but when she opened her eyes all was dark, except the thin sliver of light journeying through the bedroom from the living room. “Better?” Logan whispered, touching her face. His thumb traced over her lips and she shuddered for a whole new reason. She nodded into his hand, relieved by the darkness. Taking a deep breath, she remembered how a few moments before she had ached to see him as she watched him showering. She met his gaze, the side of his face outlined in the dim light.
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So much of what she felt for him was hard to understand. But in this moment she knew with exacting certainty she would regret not making love with this man for the rest of her life. Moving his hand to her bare shoulder, he inched his face closer to hers and whispered, “Let it be a fantasy. If there were no consequences, what would you do?” She lifted her hands out of the water, wet palms gliding over his smooth cheeks. She softly brushed her lips across his, testing to make sure this was what he wanted. Gently, she pressed her lips fully against his mouth. Terrified her desire for this man might consume her, she needed to go slow and keep the upper hand. She traced his features one by one, first with her fingers, then her mouth. She mapped his cheeks, nose, brow, eyelids, jawline, neck, so she would remember everything. She ran her fingers through his still-damp hair and tasted his lips. She took his lower lip between hers, noticing the difference between the soft outside and smooth inside. She switched to his upper lip and he shifted next to her. His lips parted and she began to lose track of the what-ifs and maybes. All that mattered now was what she felt beneath her fingers. The smell of the soap on his skin, the taste of mint in his mouth. He pulled away, and she whimpered at the loss of connection. Until he slid into the tub behind her, the warm, silky water all that separated them. And then he drew her back close to his chest and there was no separation at all. She made a conscious decision to release her knees and melt back into him. To relish how sensitive her skin had become, how she felt his breath on her temple, his cheek at her ear. His arms enveloped hers and pulled her close. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder, relaxing and allowing her hands to slip downwards and sink into the hard muscles of his thighs. His breath was
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hot on her neck as his hands traced down her arms and splayed his fingers between hers. Beneath the water, his hands flowed back up her body, over her stomach to find her breasts. Cupping them, he traced round her nipples as they pearled and hardened beneath his fingers. She brought her arms out of the bath and overhead, weaving her fingers into his damp hair. She pulled his mouth down to meet hers, showing him her pleasure. He slid his hands down her hips, stroking her belly, massaging her inner thighs. He parted her legs slightly, just enough for him to maneuver his hand between them. His fingers barely brushed the patch of curls there. His touch was light, growing more assured until his entire hand cupped her. Slowly, he moved his hand up and down. The pressure increased and he moved his hand in circles. Three fingers traced her sex, one finger slipping inside. He spread her outer lips and traced her inner lips the same way. His fingers explored, teasing the space between her lips, her clitoris, circling but never entering her. Her legs fell open farther as she relaxed. The rhythm concentrated, though he kept his touch light until she pressed into him, wanting more. Losing herself in the hazy sensations, her own hand found its way to his, encouraging him. He slipped a finger into her and she gasped at the new sensation. She gripped the side of the tub, accepting the pleasure he offered. He moved his finger in and out, side to side, then circular. His thumb massaged the button where all her nerves joined. Deep moans escaped her as he found places within that brought a bliss she never knew existed. Her hips rocked and her breath caught in her throat. Tiny ripples of delight fluttered through her body, each pushing out a tiny pant.
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Her movements slowed and his hands traveled up her hips, ribs, arms, to find her hands and bring them back under the water. He hugged her to him again, just as they had begun. “Thank you,” he whispered. “What?” She turned to see him, trying to make out his expression in the darkness. “For trusting me.” He kissed her eyelids, fluttering her eyes closed. “Let’s get you dried off before the water gets cold.” He stood behind her, the sound of water sluicing off his body heating her passion-drunk mind. “We could stay here.” She didn’t want to move, to risk breaking the spell of the moment. He stepped out of the tub and then lifted her over the edge. “Not for what I have in mind.” Logan laid her back on the bed and kissed her, their lips engaged in a battle that couldn’t be won. He wanted to make love to her, to be inside her in the most primal way. After exploring her body in the tub, he doubted her first catastrophe of an experience had been more than a fumble. Focusing on something other than the pounding ache in his groin, he found the need for release nearly impossible to ignore. She was soft and supple and willing beneath him, but he couldn’t take her, not yet. Breaking through her wall of resistance had been nearly impossible. If he caused too much pain, she’d never let him through again. He slid his lips against her mouth, over her cheek, down her neck. He kissed away the citrus of the bubble bath until he again learned the sweetness of her skin.
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She pulled at his shoulders, parting her legs beneath him so his body felt her heat. His gut clenched as he fought the instinct to plunge into her. If he did, she’d never be with him again, might not ever risk making love again, period. He trailed kisses down her collarbone. His hands enjoyed the plump flesh of her breasts, feeling every ripe nuance. She arched her back and he leaned to the side, propping himself on an elbow. In the bath he’d tried to be so very gentle, unsure of what she’d allow. Now he could explore, learn, teach her what she liked. He lavished attention on the tops, cleavage, undersides, everywhere but at the tiny buds puckering for his touch. “Is this about making me beg?” “A little.” He flattened his tongue against her nipple but kept it perfectly still. “Please,” she panted, pulling her hands through his hair and trying to force him to move. He stayed still. “Logan, please, it’s like every inch of my body is pulsing, aching for you. Please, take me.” He threatened to explode with every word, so he moved up her body and silenced her mouth with his. Even her kisses promised sex now. Everything was barreling them down a road he knew they had to travel slowly. “Breeze,” he whispered against her ear. “We have to go slow, okay?” Her hands brushed down his body, almost catching the part of him that told him going slow was unnecessary. Gripping both her wrists he pinned them over her head. “It’s going to hurt if you’re not ready.” “I’m ready.” “No, I mean, it’s going to hurt anyway, but it will hurt more if—” “Why?”
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He smiled down at her wide-eyed innocence. So worldly and intelligent in some ways, wholly innocent in others. “You’re really tight.” “Are you sure you’re not just flattering yourself?” He laughed at her bravado and released one of her hands so she could explore. He kissed her neck as her palm inched down his body. He let her fingers curl over him for as long as he could stand and then tugged them away as fear fluttered in her eyes. “But bodies are designed for this, right?” “Of course. But there’s no need to rush.” From one corner to the other, he explored her mouth until her attention was back in the now and not the later. Silencing all the questions she had that he didn’t know the answers for. He’d heard stories that sometimes it just didn’t work. Maybe that’s why her first try was such a bust. Not this time. He even welcomed the challenge. Thinking of how to make things work logistically would keep him from embarrassing himself. And remind him to enjoy every minute, every inch of her. The curve of her neck, the shell of her ear, a tiny spot just behind her earlobe that made her pant. “We should get it over with if it is going to hurt anyway.” Logan groaned and kissed her again. “Stop thinking about it.” “I can’t. Now I’m scared.” “Then we won’t.” He knew it was a lie, but he wanted to take the edge off for her. “But I still want to play.” He kissed her neck, his hands roving her body. Slowly learning every curve, every soft dip and silken rise, until she was writhing beneath him, lost in the fog he tried to rise above.
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His touch was slow, deliberate, unhurried. Because they had all night. And he’d use every minute of it if it meant hurting her less. But she didn’t seem inclined to wait, wrapping one leg around him and nestling his arousal against hers. And then she started rocking. It nearly killed him, but he let her, focusing on her breasts to keep from becoming lost in how hot and wet she became where their bodies met. She mewed, her thighs quaking as she came. Shifting to the side, he slid a hand between them, caressing her slick folds. His finger slipped easier this time, but like in the tub, the second did not. Rather than forcing anything, he circled her opening with his finger and slid his body down. He kissed a trail over her breasts and down her belly, pausing at her belly button, swirling his tongue around and around until her hips began to rock again. Enough so he could part her legs farther and hook one over his shoulder. “Logan? What—” A high-pitched squeal rang through the room when he licked from her sex up to her belly button. She fisted her hands in his hair, tugging it tighter with each panted breath. “Breeze?” He nibbled at her belly, unable to maneuver. “That smile.” Releasing her grip, her hands drifted down to frame his face. “When you smile like that, you melt me.” “I’m trying to.” “You don’t even have to try.” Something stirred within him that had nothing to do with physical longing or wanting to make this right for her. A tickle deep in his soul. But it was so much easier to kiss her belly than analyze what it could be. He spread her thighs wider, opening her to him completely. She gasped as he explored, her fingernails scratching at his scalp. He continued to swirl his
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finger around her opening until he could finally fit two inside. Mission accomplished. Now it was time to make her beg. He fluttered his tongue against her bud until she bowed off the bed. Then he switched to lazy circles, teasing around it, but not touching. She wiggled, trying to catch him, pressed her fingers to his scalp, but he would not be moved. “Please,” she finally whimpered. “Just once more.” He fastened his mouth on her, taking her higher while he curled his fingers inside. She came hard, pressing him to her as she bucked and writhed, chanting his name. He kept going until her body stilled, stretching her with his fingers while his mouth provided pleasure to override the discomfort. Laying her legs on the bed, he kissed his way up her thigh and reached onto the nightstand for a condom. She lay back on the pillows, her arm across her forehead, a goofy grin playing at her delicious mouth. “This is what boneless feels like.” She bit her lip, so he leaned closer and did the same, nibbling a kiss across her grin until her lips parted, her arms reaching for him, her legs parting in welcome. “Breeze.” He protected them and then nestled himself between her legs. “If it—” “Stop thinking and keep making love to me.” She pulled him back into the kiss, a kiss so scorching his lips felt like they were on fire, like he could melt into her. Joining. He wasn’t supposed to be scared. But the primal rush of emotions, the raw desire to crawl into her body and never come out swirled in the lustfilled fog that was his mind. He tried to shake it, to distract himself, but the world shrank as he positioned himself. She tilted her hips upwards, opening for him like a blooming flower.
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She sucked the breath from his lungs as he filled her, digging her fingernails into his arms. He stilled, letting them both grow accustomed to the sensation. He’d never experienced anything so intense, and not just physically. She released the breath she held, her body relaxing. He began to rock against her, in her, through her. She ran her hand up and down his back in time with the rocking, her lazy moans urging him on. He started to thrust in and out but her moaning stopped. Since she was so tight, thrusting became secondary, and he focused on the rocking, gripping her hips in one hand and grinding her against him. Her breath caught, her hands holding him in place as the spasms began. The clenching, pushing and pulling of her innermost muscles shocked him. He came in a violent throb that shook him so deep he nearly collapsed, his vision narrowing until all he could see were her eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. She went limp beneath him, her breaths slow and shallow as she stretched her arms overhead and purred like a cat. He wanted to stay inside her, to make her come again so he could feel her release around him, but he withdrew, saving that for another day when he wouldn’t have to worry so much about hurting her. “Are you okay?” he asked, rolling them to their sides and curling himself behind her. She hummed a response, snuggling back into him. “I can’t believe I thought I’d had sex before.” He chuckled, squeezing her tighter. “It’s an honest mistake.” “Thank you.” She pulled his hand between hers, kissing his fingertips. “You were amazing.” “As were you.” “Next time we can focus on you.” Her body stiffened. “I mean, if, you know, you ever want to try it again.”
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“I already booked a flight to Michigan.” “Michigan?” “Next Saturday. Scheduled a day off so I could stay Sunday night too.” She spun to face him. “For Nitrous?” “For you.” He kissed her gently, but she deepened it, reaching a hand between them to grasp his rebounding arousal. “Baby, you shouldn’t push yourself. You’ll be too sore tomorrow.” “Then teach me how focus on you.” Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm blared for two seconds before Breeze’s hand found the switch. Jolted into consciousness, she looked at the numbers. Five fifteen. She could count on one hand the number of times she didn’t wake up before the alarm sounded and still have fingers left over. “Come on, the sun’s not even up yet.” A deep voice rumbled behind her. She froze. Her eyes widened, her breath becoming rapid and shallow as she realized last night hadn’t been another dream. Her chest tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut. What had she been thinking? Why hadn’t she been thinking? My God, Breeze, where was your impulse control? “You’re so cold.” He wrapped his body around hers like a blanket, nestling his head in her hair. “Breeze?” He craned his head up and she hid her face in the pillow. “Are you okay? Your heart is racing.” “No,” she whispered, biting her lip. How could she possibly explain how she felt without ruining the memory of an amazing night? How could she make him understand how frightened she was? A teeth-chattering, knee-quaking kind of terrified.
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“Oh.” His whisper puffed against her neck and he lay back down. In a flash the blanket covered both their heads. “What are you doing?” She turned to face him in the blackness. “Shh. We’re hiding,” he deadpanned. “If you’re making a joke, I don’t get it.” “When you’re scared, you hide. We’ll stay here until you feel better.” She shook her head. His lips softly brushed her forehead. “While we’re here, if there is anything you’d like to do…” his hand rested on her bare hip, “…I’m more than game.” “I have to check out and be ready before six thirty. The best-set starts at seven.” “I’ll handle check out.” He held her close. “How do you feel?” She snuggled closer, enjoying the cloak of blackness. “Good, kind of like after a workout. I don’t even remember setting the alarm last night.” “I did. I didn’t want you to be late for work and risk someone finding out.” “Oh.” Right, because they were a secret. One she didn’t think she’d be able to keep for very long. Unless he ended things abruptly. Then she’d be thankful no one would pity her. “I don’t want to chase you anymore, and if someone found out, you’d make me start all over. Now that I’ve caught you, I want to show you there’s more to life than work.” “And then? What happens when I’ve learned my lesson, Professor Fun?” “Let’s just take this as it comes, one day at a time.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat, her conscience mocking her with laughter. He really thought she could do this, have a fling, let go of her life plans along with her inhibitions. He bought it, the career-woman act she tried to sell the world.
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But he was the one person she wanted to see her behind the mask.
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Chapter Nine
“You don’t strike me as the knitting type.” Breeze gasped, clutching the plastic learn-to-knit box against her chest. She turned her head, but wasn’t entirely surprised to find Logan next to her in the airport bookstore. She only just controlled the impulse to fling her arms around his neck and kiss him. “How did you find me?” “I fly out today too. Plus, I have your itinerary, and when I saw all your books in the trash, I figured you’d be looking to restock.” He stood so close to her at the display table, suggesting a cozy intimacy she refused to let herself buy into. “What about these?” He lifted a novel with a couple in a clutch position on the front, and another of a naked male torso. “What about them?” She scanned the table for a distraction. He couldn’t know she read romance novels. She always left them on the plane for the next passenger. “This looks like fun too.” He traded the novels for a kit promising to teach you to draw in ten simple steps. He offered the box to her and she looked inside at the coarse paper, charcoal pencils and instruction book. “You could draw something at each place you visit, like a travel diary.” “All the hotel rooms look the same.” Breeze peeked back at her knitting kit, wondering if she really could knit a scarf in four hours like the box claimed. Her mother would be over the moon to receive a gift she’d made instead of bought. “You could relax on the plane, or sleep.”
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“I can’t sleep on planes.” Or let a minute go to waste. “If you idle away your time, you’ll stall in the game of life.” It felt like her grandmother stood beside her, whispering her mantra in Breeze’s ear. Every moment needed to be filled with something to keep moving ahead. Work, education, chores. Something. She picked up another book on the table. Meet Your Match. The book of quizzes and questions promised to help you learn if you were dating The One. Her mother believed in soul mates, her grandmother thought the concept ridiculous. She opened the book and Logan moved to read it over her shoulder. “That’s a bunch of garbage.” “Are you an expert on dating? You must be quoted in here somewhere.” She flipped through the pages. It claimed if you worked through the book with your partner, you could learn in a few short hours whether your relationship would last. If only life were really so black and white. On paper she knew being with Logan was a bad idea. But within fifty feet of him her body overruled her mind. Not only was the timing off for work, commitment was hardwired into her brain while he didn’t seem to want anything more than a good time. He wanted a fling. She wanted a relationship, though she didn’t have time for one. Maybe something existed in between, like an emotionally satisfying affair. Or maybe she should just scare him off before it all got too messy. She turned, waving the book before him. “We should do this. It’s a fast way to get to know one another. And if we’re going to mix business with pleasure, I need to know as much about you as possible. We need rules, boundaries. I think the book will give us perspective.”
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“Why, Miss Cohen, I have no idea what you’re referring to. And, no. Some junk written by someone who’s never met us is about as reliable as your astrology book. Whatever is meant to be, will happen.” Breeze looked through the pages again. “Astrology said we should give it a shot.” He raised an eyebrow. “I should thank my lucky stars then. I’ll do it, on one condition.” “What?” “Kiss me.” “Logan, no.” She raised her gaze to his face. He grinned mischievously and she returned to the book. If she caught him smiling again she might give in. And then there would be no going back. “You never know who might see.” “The world isn’t as small as you think, Breeze.” He reached out, his fingers twisting the ends of her hair. Which she’d left down. Because he’d asked her to. “Just so you know, I’m going to do it anyway.” “You wouldn’t dare.” She looked up and instantly knew he would. “Planes go down, Breeze. I don’t live my life afraid of it, but you can’t pretend it never happens. So, whether you like it or not, I’m kissing you goodbye. We can play your game and do it in some quiet corner, or I’ll do it at the terminal at the last minute. You’ll love that. All those people asking you about it the whole flight.” “You’re incorrigible.” Without issuing a denial, he snatched the copy from her hands and another from the table, her knitting kit and sketch box and walked to the front of the store. She followed as fast on his heels as she could.
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By the time she made it to the register, her purchases were in bags and Logan was openly flirting with the salesclerk. Her chest constricted, stealing her breath. Flirting. Right in front of her. His words fake, promises empty. All designed to get her into his bed. Breeze blazed out of the shop and down the busy corridor at a fast clip. Jealous. Not a good sign. He flirts and she wanted to jump across the counter. Or worse, kiss him breathless. Mark her man. How juvenile could she be? And yet, she’d do anything to quiet the green-eyed monster stirring inside. Maybe she should duck into another store. Find a book on how to tell if you’re being scammed. Fingers gripped her arm, spinning her around. “What the hell was that?” “I should ask you.” She pulled at his fingers, but he held her firm. “You’re hurting me.” “No, I’m not. Why did you run out of there?” “I didn’t—let go of me.” He released her. Opening the bag, he pulled out a book and handed her the rest. “Did you see someone you knew? You bolted like the place was on fire.” “I didn’t like what I saw,” she whispered, realizing that they were drawing sidelong glances from the people around them. “What?” “Look, this isn’t going to work.” She lowered her voice further. “I don’t have time to waste on someone whose eye wanders at every opportunity.” “Excuse me?” “You were flirting with her,” she said behind clenched teeth, hating she couldn’t control her reaction. Being so emotional showed him too much of what
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she felt. She was an experiment to him—get the workaholic to let off some steam. He didn’t feel anything really, only wanted to get her in bed again. “No. I don’t think so.” His brows knit together and he tilted his head to the side. “You think because of last night I need to be rude to every woman who crosses my path?” “Let’s just both walk away like nothing happened.” She turned back around. “Like hell.” He grabbed her arm again. “You’re looking for an excuse. You have to learn to trust me.” “You’re crazy.” Her throat tightened. How did he do that? How could he tell when she was scared? “A little. Especially when you close up on me.” “Let me go. I need to think. I don’t like feeling this out of control.” “Then stop thinking yourself out of being happy. Fear and distrust are dangerous enemies. They’ll blind you from what could be, and only show you things that don’t matter. Like how I speak with nameless salesclerks in airports. What does it matter when I’m there with you?” “It matters. I can’t have a relationship with someone who sees me as a temporary diversion. A project.” “That’s not what I’m doing.” “Isn’t it? Beyond your determination to sleep with me, I know very little about you. Your hopes, dreams, plans for the future. Which means you don’t think we have one. So why waste another minute of our time?” “Okay, you were obviously reading some jacked-up relationship psychology book along with your new-age stuff. Just enjoy what we have now, Breeze. Stop analyzing everything.” He extended his hand and she eyed it. “You trusted me before.”
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She took his hand, not because she believed him completely, but she didn’t care to revisit how much she had trusted him before. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. She cursed the tingles prickling her body. “Come on. Let’s go play your game.” She followed him to a grouping of padded chairs along a window. Outside, she saw planes waiting their turn on the runway and her breath caught. She didn’t really want to get on that plane without kissing him goodbye either. So many emotions fluttered through her mind she didn’t know which to grab on to. She hated to be confused, didn’t have time for it in her life. “Is it ever okay to lie?” Breeze opened her eyes wide and stared at him. “Question one.” He pointed to the book. “Depends on who you’re lying to.” “Strangely, I get that. I don’t want you to lie to me, but if my sister wants to tell me she’s still a virgin, I’ll be happy to believe her.” “I thought she had a baby.” A grin tickled her lips. “Immaculate conception.” His features were calm, as if it weren’t a joke. “I see,” Breeze said, trying not to giggle as she dug in the bag for her copy. Logan laughed out loud. Really loud. “What now?” “The questions about dominance. Do your friends call you a control freak? Do you insist on driving? According to this, you’ll be tying me up in under a week.” “Very funny.” As if she held the upper hand. She opened the book, looking for some ammunition to use on him. “Are you afraid of commitment?” “Not as much as you. Are you closer with your best friend or your mother?” “What is that supposed to mean?” “It’s a few pages over, in the part about family.”
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“Not that. I’m not afraid of commitment. I’ve worked for the same company since I was sixteen, ten years. That’s commitment.” “Or lack of opportunity. You never thought about working anywhere else?” “No.” She shook her head. She had plenty of headhunters trying to recruit her, but she liked the security of always working for the same place that had grown her grandmother’s career. “I want to be a regional vice president, like my grandmother. I’m on the right track, as long as nothing derails me.” “Why Mendelssohn’s though? Could it be any major retailer?” “I like being a legacy.” “Sometimes you have to blaze your own trail. She did that, right? That could be the legacy you’re meant to follow.” Breeze shifted in her seat and decided to turn the mirror back on him. Let him see how uncomfortable it was. “What about you? What are you committed to?” “Being happy.” She waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “That’s it? It’s awfully narcissistic.” “I prefer hedonistic. Life is short. You have to live life to its fullest and enjoy every second. You don’t want to look back and see wasted time. Time you spent dwelling on things that don’t matter.” Did she do that? She didn’t want to. She wanted to have a full life. That’s why she kept so busy, filling her brain with knowledge, busying her mind with work. And yet it never seemed to be enough. Everyone thought her life came up short in some ways. Her parents thought she was unhappy, her grandmother thought her career was stalling, and Logan thought she needed a good time. What she really needed was a way to spin this whole game around on him. Change her tactic from defense to offense.
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“What is your longest relationship?” Logan swallowed hard. The woman had a love affair with that word, relationship. He’d done his best to ignore it, but she refused to be ignored. As if she was trying to twist what they had into something stilted and forced, the kind of thing he always walked away from. Except, when she challenged him, her eyes twinkled. She thought she had him. She was playing…him. He grinned. Playing was what he’d been trying to get her to do, after all. “My longest relationship? My sister, I guess.” “Very funny. Romantic relationship. Have you ever been married? Engaged?” “No and no. It never really gets that far.” “Because you’re commitment phobic.” “Hey, I’m not the one who left without saying goodbye and then suggested we pretend like last night never happened.” Her eyes widened and knew he’d pushed too far. So focused on the pursuit, on getting her to admit she needed to live a little, he hadn’t stopped to consider how that realization might affect her. Or the pressure it would put on him to live up to her expectations. Which he was failing to do right now. On the outside she might be the model of a modern professional woman, but inside lurked the heart of a traditionalist. She wanted to know him, try having a relationship, albeit in secret. Even though the term relationship made him itch, her willingness to try and frame them into something felt like his biggest accomplishment of all. Last night she’d trusted him, and that demanded he live up to that trust.
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He opened the book, looking for a way to get to know her too. Because he needed to know why he felt so good. Why the sex was better, why his heart beat faster when he made her laugh, why he was so determined to challenge someone willing to let him walk away. “What do you want to do when you retire? When you’ve gone as far as you want to in your career and can do what you please.” “My grandmother hops from one cruise ship to the next. She worked hard her whole career and was given a nice payment to retire. Maybe I’ll travel like that.” “They forced her into retirement and you’re still loyal to the company?” “It was a six-figure pay out.” He shook his head. “That’s your grandmother. What do you want to do?” She shrugged and looked for a new question. “I’ll worry about it after I cash my check.” “I want to get a house on the coast. Not too far from wherever my kids are so they can come visit.” Kids, he wanted kids. That meant he wasn’t the commitment-phobe she thought. Did that mean she’d stumbled upon a great guy who saw something in her and wanted it enough to pursue her with the intensity of a Black Friday shopper? Could she handle that? Her fingers busied with the pages. Find another question, quick! “Do you want kids, Breeze?” Too late. She buried herself behind the tiny book before answering. “I don’t think I should.” “Why?” Logan spoke calmly, as if he hadn’t just turned on the garbage disposal of her family history. “My mother has strong feelings about how much my grandmother worked.”
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Logan put a finger atop her book and lowered it, forcing her to either meet his gaze or admit avoiding him. “But not about your grandfather?” “He had the same issue with how much my grandmother worked. He left when my mom went to college.” “Oh. Well, some people balance better than others.” She straightened the lapels of her suit jacket. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Probably not.” He gave a shrug and gave his attention back to the pages. New subject, pronto. She used the words of the book to say what she didn’t dare. “Let’s talk about sex.” “In the abstract, or the fun way?” His lecherous grin made her look away. She couldn’t let him distract her with passion again. Not here. “Define faithful.” She scrutinized him as he thought, realizing that maybe he wasn’t against relationships, just not looking for a lasting one with her. “You want to be with someone else, you tell me first.” “Define be with.” Breeze studied his face, looking for cracks in the honest façade he wore. “Trust.” “I think it means technically, where is your line for cheating. Is it sex, kissing, touching?” His eyes darkened, and she heard his breath quicken. “You feel for someone else what you feel for me, you tell me before you act on it.” “I can’t think of anyone else, but you can flirt with random strangers.” And it scared me so bad I can’t think straight. “I wasn’t flirting.” He sounded annoyed. Good. “You were flirting. You were smiling at her.” You’re only supposed to look at me that way.
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“I’m happy.” He leaned closer, laying a hand on her knee. “Had an amazing night last night. Can’t stop smiling.” “I’m serious.” “You’re too serious. I was there. You had a great time. Think about it, you’ll be grinning from ear to ear too.” With a weak smile, she returned to the pages, a warm blush heating her skin. She needed to calm down, stop overreacting and just enjoy him. For however long she held his attention. “How long do your relationships last?” “I don’t have a stopwatch. They end when it’s over. Usually about three weeks.” She gasped, realizing she’d already used up one of hers. “I walk when it becomes inauthentic. Life is too short to be a place card in someone’s life. A lot of women out there think there’s a right time to be married, and any decent guy will do.” “That’s crazy.” Breeze scrunched her brows. “There’s only one reason to get married.” He nodded but didn’t offer what he thought that reason should be. “How long do we have to keep hiding that there’s something going on with us?” “Who do you want to tell?” Her chest tightened, holding in the panic of having the past repeat itself. “I don’t like secrets. It’s always better to have things out in the open.” She shook her head. “You promised no one would know.” “I’m not going to put out a memo. I’d just like to be honest with my sister about why I was here this weekend. Haven’t you told anyone?” His fingers drew lazy circles on her knee. “No, have you?” Her heart stalled.
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“No. You haven’t even told your mom?” She winced. She’d forgotten to call, again. “You still haven’t called? Do it now.” “No, they don’t even know about this trip. Calling from an airport would be weird.” “Why didn’t you tell them about the trip?” His eyes widened, disapproval settling on his face. “I’m busy, they’re busy.” Too busy to even return her calls it seemed. She shook off the thought, not wanting him to think badly of her family. “They deliver three hundred babies a year.” “You should try harder with them, Breeze. Don’t take them for granted. Family is who makes us who we are. You don’t want to let that get away.” “That’s the way it’s been since I left.” “So fix it.” She opened her mouth to explain why she couldn’t, that she was still embarrassed by the rumors that ran her out of town, rumors she knew they’d heard. But instead of speaking, she heard her flight announced over the PA system. “That’s my cue.” She slid the book in the bag and gathered the rest of her things. Once collected she turned back to make a quick goodbye. But the sad look in his eyes told her he’d have none of that. “What is the difference between love, lust and romance?” He leaned in and pulled her so close to his chair that the tiniest nudge would put her in his lap. “I don’t know. Is that in the book?” He nodded, his lips inching closer to hers until they brushed softly. “Breeze, with you I can’t tell the difference.” And then he kissed her.
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Long and slow, curling the desire in her belly into a tight coil. Her eyes drifted shut as she drank him in. The scent of hotel soap, the stubble on his cheeks as she framed his face with her hands, the taste of him on her tongue. He pulled away first, taking her hands in his and kissing each palm. “You’re the most amazing kisser.” “Really?” A giddy rush floated through her. “Mmm hmm. When our lips touch, your whole body relaxes.” “And that’s good?” “Very. Kissing is reciprocal. It relaxes me too. Enough to let you get on that plane.” The voiced buzzing through the conference room blurred in his mind. Projected sales numbers no longer held the appeal they once did. He still believed in the Kicks line, still wanted it to succeed for Nitrous and Kellen. But his thoughts were elsewhere. Flying over Pennsylvania to be exact. Set to land in forty-one minutes. “Logan?” At the sound of his name he sat up straighter, blinking out of his daydream. “You’ve worked closer with Breeze than any of us. Do you think she’d be interested in a change?” The director of retail tapped the end of her pen against the table. “It would depend on the change.” He grinned, wondering if he’d been caught sleeping in class. “Her sense of urgency is exactly what we need.” She pounded her fist against the table for emphasis. “A problem solver. The retail team is missing that right now. She’d be perfect to head up our training collateral.”
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Right up Breeze’s alley. Not. “I think she prefers the hands-on side. She’s in constant motion. I don’t see her at a desk writing training manuals and developing slide shows.” “You think she’d want to stay at the store level?” “Not for long. I think she plans on running Mendelssohn’s.” No one laughed. Logan’s smile widened with pride. “I always say, only hire people who you know could do your job. Keeps you on your toes.” “That is the Nitrous way.” Logan leaned forward. “Would you like me to feel her out? I’m going to check in with her at the end of the week.” “I’ll e-mail you the specifics. See what she’d be interested in. I’d welcome her in either the flagship Nitrous Town or the employee store. If she’s that determined to move up, we’ll need to keep her close to headquarters.” Logan nodded, paying enough attention for the rest of the meeting that he was able to gather his things and skedaddle at the first opportunity. Breeze at Nitrous. He’d really have his work cut out for him to convince her to be with him if they worked for the same company. Instead of returning to his office, he trekked to the other side of the Nitrous campus and maneuvered his way into his brother-in-law’s cubicle. “How’s the project coming?” Marc asked, barely looking up from his computer screen. “Better every day. We’ve even got Kellen excited, which is hard to do.” “Yes, his commitment to being mellow surpasses even yours.” “I want this to go right for him. The sole design is new, and soccer isn’t as big in the states as basketball and baseball.” “Which is why you’re launching in North America rather than the more competitive UK or Brazilian markets. You made the right decision, and the
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global football team agrees. Are you doubting yourself?” Marc looked up with a sympathetic smile and shook his head. “It’s not about work. I take it you didn’t get anywhere with her.” Logan swallowed hard over the constriction in his throat. “She’s a complex woman.” “That’s promising. You need a challenge. Otherwise you get bored too easy.” “Is that my problem?” “Something like that.” Marc leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Are you still interested in her, or have you tired of the chase?” Logan shrugged, rolling his lips inward to seal them tight. Was keeping his promise of discretion to Breeze really worth lying? Especially when he could count on Marc’s silence? “You have to work for anything worth having, Logan.” He shook his head. “It’s not that. She has an issue with us both working on the same project. And now retail wants to recruit her.” The truth. Barely. “She’s smart about that, Logan. Retail is a nasty business. Very cutthroat. Especially for women.” “I thought retail is a woman’s business.” “Only at the ground level. It’s as much an old boys’ club as everywhere else. And she’s a woman, young and pretty. Three strikes against her in that world. She doesn’t need any rumors.” “Have you two been talking? Because that’s the speech she’s giving me.” He grinned and crossed his arms across his chest. “Smart girl. Besides, if you pull back a little she might come after you.” He huffed his response, resisting the urge to laugh. If he pulled back now, she’d read it as rejection and close herself off so tightly no one would ever see the sweet, vulnerable side that drew him in.
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“She really has you tied up in knots.” Marc looked him up and down. “What is it about her, Logan?” “I don’t know, and it’s driving me crazy.” He ground out the words. “And with her traveling so much, she doesn’t have time for me to find out.” “Uh oh,” Marc said, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Love is unexplainable, you know. That’s how you know you’re in it.” “Fat lot of help you are.” Logan turned to leave, not sure why he thought he’d find answers here in the first place. “You could point out that a lot of couples work at Nitrous, like Janelle and me. Or print out the section on fraternizing from the employee handbook. As long as you aren’t her direct supervisor, it’s a non-issue as far as Nitrous is concerned. And if you get that job with global marketing you’ve been sniffing around, you’ll be out of the retail side completely. No conflict at all.”
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Chapter Ten
“What are you wearing?” Logan’s voice dripped through the phone line. Glad he couldn’t see the satisfied smile on her face, Breeze put the cell phone on speaker and lay back against the pillows on her bed. “Nothing you’d want to see.” “I guessed so. You sent the number with the ribbons back with me.” She was eternally grateful he couldn’t see her blush. “You went through my bag? You’re just supposed to drop it off at the condo and check on my fish.” “Speaking of, I think your filter is broken. Where do you usually buy your plants? And snails?” “Oh no.” She sat straight up, picturing her goldfish in murky water. He’d mentioned having fish of his own, so she’d given him a key to drop off her bag and make sure they’d been fed. It was much easier to trust him with her things than her heart. “The fish are fine. They’ve eaten the roots and leaves on most everything. And the snails.” “They ate the snails!” She slumped against the pillows again. “Anthony must not be feeding them often enough.” She hooked a nail on her tooth, wondering what it would cost her to ask him for this kind of favor. “They look well fed to me, especially this spotted behemoth. I have a fish guy. I’ll call him and see when he can come out. But with no filter we really should get some more plants in there.” “You have a fish guy?”
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“He maintains the saltwater tanks at my place. But he’s probably going to tell me to build these guys a pond. They’re huge. And the black-tailed one keeps spitting rocks at me.” “Oh, that’s Fred. He’s friendly.” “You have friendly fish? Maybe I should look into goldfish. Mine have a superiority complex.” She chuckled, twirling a curl around her finger. “Could you give me the name of your fish guy? I’ll see when he can come out and then get Lonnie or Anthony to let him in.” “I’ll call him. You can have my slot tomorrow and he can work me in whenever. It’ll knock my fish down a few pegs.” “Thanks. I’ll make it up to you.” “Oh yeah? How?” She made out a faint rustling in the background. “Where are you?” “On your bed. Where are you?” “Why are you on my bed? Don’t you have to…” Think of something, Breeze. Get the picture of him waiting for you on your bed out of your mind, “…to go to Under The Sea and get some plants for the tank?” “I will. But I think I’ll go cash in hand, so to speak. Make it up to me.” “I was thinking in terms of money or chores.” “You have those kinds of fantasies?” “Excuse me?” “Call girl and domestic discipline?” A dark laugh vibrated through the line. Breeze gasped, unable to close her mouth. “I didn’t think so.” She could just envision the smile playing on his delicious lips. “Make it up to me. Where are you?”
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“In bed.” She shook her head as if he could see, as if it mattered. “Logan, I can’t do this.” “What are you wearing?” “Seriously, this isn’t happening.” She crossed her arms over her chest and wished her cotton nightshirt had been clean. “I don’t know how.” “Turn the light off.” “How did you know it was on?” She flicked the lamp off, darkening the room. “Now, what are you wearing?” The silence stretched on, making Breeze painfully aware of the lace scratching against her breasts. Damned Anthony. If he could just feed fish and buy sensible nightgowns she wouldn’t be in this predicament. “If it’s that good, you should keep it on.” “I intend to.” “Describe it to me.” “It’s not what you think anyway. I usually sleep in a thermal nightshirt. This was just clean.” “Keep going.” “How?” She waited for an answer, anticipation beginning to stir her thoughts. What would it hurt, really? “A satin chemise. It’s lilac with lace along the neckline and the hem.” “I know the one.” Tension sparked as if he was in the room. “I saw it when I got your laundry. You look great in it.” His low voice caressed her like a touch. “You can’t see me.” She bit her bottom lip and pulled the blankets higher in her lap. “Oh, but I can. Your nipples are trying to peek through the lace.”
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Expecting to prove him wrong, she looked down. How did he know? Her nipples puckered in response to his voice, and the more he spoke the tighter they pulled. “Let me see them. Lean forward so I can catch a glimpse of them in the light from the window.” His soft, suggestive voice had her heart pounding. She could feel his eyes on her. “You don’t have a web cam, do you?” “This is better, trust me. Lean forward so I can see.” She obliged, not feeling half as ridiculous as she thought she would. In fact, she didn’t feel strange at all. “What are you wearing?” “A sweater, jeans and socks. I left my Kicks by the front door.” She swallowed hard. “Could you take off the sweater? So I’m not alone in this?” Hearing the rustling of fabric she pictured him propped against the pillows of her bed, his bronzed chest ready for her to explore. “Take off your panties.” Her breath caught. “No.” “Come on. They are white cotton briefs. It ruins the effect of the lingerie.” “How do you know?” “Because I did your laundry. Please, take them off.” She tried not to make a sound as she pulled them down her legs and let them drop to the floor. Her stomach fluttered as she sat back on the bed, too aware nothing separated her from the satin. “Thank you.” His husky voice sent the fervor flooding back through her body, reminding her of everything she’d tried to forget in the last two days. “Logan…” “I love it when you say my name.” “You do?”
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“I like it best when you say it when you come.” Her heart stuttered. “I did?” “Every time.” His low, husky voice sounded hard with passion. “Lean forward,” he said in the same heated tone. “Show me how turned on you are. How tight your nipples are.” She granted the request mindlessly, watching her body to see what he saw. “I want to touch them. Right where you’re spilling out. Trace the lace for me, Breeze.” With a tentative finger, she obeyed, her touch as light as a tickle. Not like his at all. She tried again, more confident this time, but still it wasn’t enough. “I want to trace the edge of your gown with my tongue. Pull the straps off your shoulders with my teeth so I can see more of you. Would you like that, Breeze?” “Logan…I…” His deep, longing breaths intoxicated her mind. “I want to kiss you. What flavor is your lip gloss today?” “Raspberry.” Her tongue darted out, tasting to be sure. “Mmm. You always taste so good. Show me where you want me to kiss you.” “How?” Arousal surged within, her frustration with this game mounting. “Move your fingers where I tell you to, where you want me to be.” “I don’t do this.” She let out a breath and closed her eyes, wishing she weren’t so dependent on him to guide her. “Touch yourself? Why not?” “I don’t think of myself this way.” Her mind sparked, wondering if this was what was missing in her life. She knew it was something elusive and intangible. Without it she had a diffuse dissatisfaction with life, though she had all she needed.
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“You do now.” “Only because you do.” Desire bubbled through her with the sound of his voice, lifting the psychological weight keeping her from feeling much of anything. She always avoided feeling, caring. But with Logan, she wanted to. Because no matter how bad she’d hurt later, it felt damned good right now. She’d given him the keys to her innocence, her trust. A man who could destroy her personally and professionally with a few small words. The part of her psyche she kept bound and gagged mumbled why she trusted him, but Breeze didn’t dare listen. “If it’s me, then show me where you want me to kiss you. I can see you, your eyes closed, dark lashes against your pale cheeks, your hand hovering in hesitation. No one will ever know you but me.” Her breath caught at the possessiveness of his words. Did he really mean— “No one will know, Breeze. Lick your lips so they are wet where I’ve tasted them,” he coaxed. “Trace your fingers along your neck to that spot behind your ear, then pull them down along your jaw.” She obeyed his requests willingly, desire ricocheting through every nerve. The quickened pace of his breathing pushing her on. “Trail your hand down your neck, across your collarbone.” It was almost like being in a trance, playing a secret, wicked game. Knowing he could see her in his mind, just as she could see him on her bed. “I can’t see enough of you. I need more. Pull the straps off your shoulders. Show me.” She slid one thin strap down her arm and paused, realizing how low it dipped, how the straps held her arm at her side. Not trapping her really, she could end this at any time. If she could think of a reason why she’d want to.
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“You stopped. Why? Don’t you want me to see? To touch? Kiss?” With a moan she released the other strap, the lace of the chemise tight against her puckered nipples. “It’s still covering too much, lift them out for me, show me.” Inside, liquid heat cocooned her in a dreamy haze. She couldn’t help but oblige his request. He wanted to watch her, touch her, be with her right now. Though with the distance he could more easily find pleasure elsewhere. His ragged breath and careful attention showed this is where he wanted to be. “I love to look at you. I can’t get enough. So beautiful, sculpted. Like a goddess to be worshiped. How do they feel? Can you tell me?” Cradling her breasts in her hands, she thought about the sensation, recalling how different it felt when he did the same thing in the tub. “They’re full, heavy. The air conditioner is on and I don’t think they like the cold.” “They’re beaded like ripe raspberries. But I don’t think it’s from the cold. I think it’s because you are so very hot.” “I am.” He’d cast the erotic spell, but the power felt like it was shifting, as if the magic was theirs to share. Need pulsed through her. She liked when he told her what to do and wondered if he’d like the same thing. “Touch me, Logan.” “Oh, yes,” he hissed. “Touch yourself for me. Pass your thumbs around the dark area surrounding your nipples. But don’t touch them.” “No?” “Not yet. That feels good, doesn’t it? Your breasts are so sensitive. And sweet. Can I taste them?” “Please.” She panted, squirming on the bed. “Lick your fingers. Make them slick. Rub it over the very tip of your nipple. Faster. Faster. Just like my tongue. You taste so good.
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“Now roll them between your thumb and finger. And pull just a little bit at the tip.” His shuddering groan matched hers. “Harder. They are so tight and firm. That means you like this.” She relaxed back on the pillows, enjoying everything. “I do. I like everything you show me.” “Oh, baby, I’m so glad. I want to show you more. But first you have to show me more.” “What do you want to see?” She pulled aside the blankets, knowing what he wanted, but needing to hear him ask, beg for it. “Lift your nightgown for me. Slow now, I want to watch the lace inch up your thighs. Lift up a little, pull it all the way up to your hips.” With the top down under her breasts and the bottom lifted to her hips, only her stomach was covered. Why did he have to be all the way across the country now? Because no matter how good this was, she doubted it would be good enough. “Relax your thighs and let your knees drop open. Show me where you melt, where you are sweeter than even your skin, your mouth. Where you want my mouth to be.” She whimpered in frustration, the cool evening air reminding her how wet and ready he made her. “Put your hands flat on the inside of your thighs for me. Pull them open, make room for me.” She hissed and cupped her mound, blocking it from the draft. “I can feel you growing damp around me, heating at my touch. Let me taste you. Open up for me. Let me trace the slick folds with my tongue. Show me where you want me to lick you.”
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Holding herself open with one hand, she explored with the other. Why hadn’t she thought to do this before? It felt good, wicked, and a little sad that the tip of his tongue knew her better than her own fingers. “Can you find your clit? It’s almost as hard as your nipples, but be gentle with it. Draw your finger around it in circles, but don’t touch it.” Was he crazy? How could she not? “I want you to touch it.” “Oh, I will. I’ll flatten my tongue on it and hold it there until you squirm, showing me its pulsing rhythm. And then I’ll lap at it until you can barely breathe.” The strangled sound of her breath sounded foreign as she mimicked his words as best she could. Not that it mattered. There was no turning back now. “Faster and faster as you writhe beneath me, taking more and more of you into my mouth. Until you come undone, fisting your hands in my hair and pressing into me because you can’t get enough. And I can’t get enough.” He kept talking, but she couldn’t hear, abandoning herself to her pleasure. Her head rolled back on the pillows, heart pounding, mouth going dry as her satisfaction came out in soft pants. His name on each breath. “You almost took me with you on that one.” His dark, sinister laugh pulled her back to reality. “Did I?” Her own laugh sounded wicked, foreign to her ears. Two could play at this game. And they should both get a turn, after all. “Yeah, give me a minute here so I don’t explode all over your perfectly made bed.” She sat back up, but didn’t fix her clothing. She wanted to feel reckless and lusty, wanted him to see her that way too. Wanted to catch him while she still had an edge.
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“Then now wouldn’t be a good time for me to straddle your lap, lean down so my breasts grazed your chest.” His intense, feverish growl cheered her on. “Or for me to unbutton your jeans, pull the zipper down slowly, making sure my knuckle presses against the fabric the whole time.” Her breath caught when she heard his zipper release tooth by tooth. The power she held made her giddy. She clucked her tongue. “Logan, you are so naughty.” She emphasized every breathy word. “What?” “You made me take off my underwear, and now here you are, caged in yours. Should I leave you there? Would that teach you a lesson?” “A lesson not to play games with you. You give good phone sex, Breeze.” “Yeah? You know what else I want to be good at?” “If I try and imagine, I’ll explode.” “Oh, not yet. You don’t want to be selfish, waste something like that when we can share it. Not until you’re inside of me.” “Who are you?” “I am what you made me.” “And a secret only I know.” “Do you like that? Knowing my secrets?” She winced, not wanting to break the mood by thinking. Wanting to make him as crazy as he made her. “Do you want to lie on the bed, or sit on the edge?” “Hmm?” “I could kneel in front of you, or lie next to you on the bed.” “Lie down so I can see you.” “I will. And you’ll lose the jeans.”
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“You’re the boss.” “I am. That’s why you’re going to leave the briefs on. I’ll slide my hands down the back, and squeeze your ass before sliding them over. It is so hard, promising. Mmm.” She gave herself a mental shake. This was for him, not her. “And then I’ll slide my hands to the front, pulling out the waist band and letting it down, never touching you as I slide them off your legs and drop them to the floor. “What is it you want me to do first? Do you want me to run my hand over your cock, or my lips?” The strangled groan was all the answer she needed. “Can you feel it, my breath hot against your cock? I won’t tease you the way you do me. I’ll take you in my hand. God, you are so soft and hard at the same time. And look, a little drop is peeking out the tip. Like it wants me to drop my head, my hair falling on your thighs as I stick out my tongue for a taste.” “Okay, enough.” His ragged whisper swirled a new heat within her. “Really? You don’t want me to lick my lips and slide them around you? Run my tongue around that little ridge where you showed me to flick—” “Stop.” He was begging now. She could feel it. “What if I don’t? What if I suck you deep into my mouth, as far as I can, wrapping my hand around the base of you so you feel the pressure everywhere?” “You want to know what I’d do?” “Yes, please.” She didn’t care who was begging now. “You think I’d grab your head, pump into you until I scream your name, but I won’t. No that would be too easy, and besides, it’s not what you really want.” “It’s not?” “No. Lay down, flat on your back.”
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Combinations whorled through her mind, tingling with fear. This is only a game, only a fantasy, she reminded herself. “You see, Breeze? Look at how wet you are. Slide your fingers down and feel it. You’re dripping you’re so slick.” How did he know? Her fingers glided over her engorged skin, swollen with wanting. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know she was playing with herself, again. “You want me.” “I’m not the one so hard and thick, I’m twitching.” She licked her lips, trying to will enough blood to her head to think of something to do next. “I can see you too. Open for me, waiting as I hover over you. I trace your folds and hold myself, right there, waiting.” “Waiting for what?” Her fingers stood at the ready, waiting for his word. “Waiting for you to beg.” A wicked laugh escaped them both. “I don’t need to beg. You want me.” “God help me, I do. I want to slide into you, fast and hard, take your breath away. I want to plunge into you so deep I set the rhythm of your breathing, the beating of your heart.” She saw it, felt it, did it. Spurred on by how his voice grew more strained with every word. “Faster and harder, racing to see who can make the other come first. I’m going to win. Reach between us and put my thumb on your clit.” “I’ll wrap my legs around you, pull you deeper.” The pressure of her own hand short-circuited her mind. Her legs began to shake, her belly quiver, her world darken, and a warm calm rushed through her from her center out. “That answers that question.” Logan had the nerve to laugh. “There was a question?” She rolled to her side, taking a deep breath and reconfiguring her chemise.
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“I wondered how I was going to handle not being with you until Saturday. This takes the edge off, a little. Maybe if we do it again.” “I don’t think so.” Coming to her senses, a cocktail of guilt and anxiety, exhilaration and fear clenched her stomach. “Too tired? It is late there, isn’t it?” “Yeah, and I have to be up early.” She bit her lip, wondering what he must think of her. Some kind of wanton tease. And now that he knew, would he still be as sweet, gentle? “Breeze? I don’t like keeping us a secret.” “You promised you wouldn’t tell.” Her jaw trembled and she stood, pacing to the window, pulling down her chemise to cover as much of her body as possible. “You promised.” “I know I did. And I won’t tell. It just feels wrong, keeping this from my family.” “Do you tell them about everyone you date?” “We’re not just dating anymore.” “We’re not?” Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and jump out the fifth-floor window. She needed to know, but wasn’t sure she wanted to. “Where do you see this going, Logan?” “I don’t know, but I want to find out. And once you’re home—” “Once I’m home back-to-school is rolling, my departments have been neglected for almost a month. If this project goes well I’m liable to get promoted, and as soon as all that gets ironed out, the holiday season starts.” “What are you saying?” His deep sigh echoed through the line. “I don’t want to broadcast things, in case you can’t handle my career and there is nothing to tell after the project is over.” She sank into the armchair and
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stared out the window. Her view was of the brick wall of the next building. No escaping her mistakes. The fewer people who knew about them the better. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me. We don’t stand a chance if you rebuild the walls every time I turn my back. When the project is over, we’ll decide where to go from there.” “Okay.” She bit her lip, brushing away the tear dripping down her cheek. No point in arguing. It was only a matter of time until he lost interest anyway.
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Chapter Eleven
Logan understood why Breeze felt the need to keep their relationship under wraps. But a wide gulf separated understanding her reasoning and agreeing with it. Watching the way she’d changed, opening up and having fun, made him realize he had something to learn from her too. When he’d interviewed last week for a promotion, he’d felt as if he were channeling her loyalty and determination. He was sure the job was a lock because of it. She never left his thoughts, making him reevaluate how he’d answered her question. He knew where he wanted this to go. He’d like to wake up with her every day. Fall asleep beside her every night. A month ago the concept of living with someone would have frightened him, but now he saw it as the only solution. He’d even had the fish guy move his fish around and make the livingroom tank freshwater for her fish. Dedicating his life to fun suddenly seemed immature and hollow now that he knew he could feel more. There were emotions deeper than pleasure worth exploring. He’d liked his casual life before, but now it struck him as lonely. He’d set out to teach her to enjoy herself, but she’d shown him the world he was missing out on. The quiet side of life where he could share himself with someone who looked out for him. He wanted her to work for Nitrous because he knew it would mean she’d have more time for him, but he knew it wasn’t his decision. And if he could do something to help her get the promotion she deserved at Mendelssohn’s, he
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would. Which was why he arrived in Michigan early enough to make a surprise visit at the store hosting the best-set and training session. Judy Lawson, the vice-president of stores, latched onto him immediately, regaling facts and figures he had to remind himself she didn’t know he knew. No one who didn’t speak with Breeze twice a day could. When he’d arrived, Breeze held her reaction in check. And he struggled to be as in control of his responses as she was. “She’s great, don’t you think?” Judy asked. She stood next to him at the back of the crowd of managers listening to Breeze deliver the Kicks spiel. “She’s done an amazing job getting Mendelssohn’s ready for the roll out. Two weeks ago I was ready to pull the plug, but now I’m glad we found a solution.” “You’ve kept a very close eye on her. Trying to tempt her away?” “If she’s happy here, we can’t offer her enough to leave. Besides, my interest is for the Kicks brand. I took some risks debuting the line with US soccer instead of global football. And it’s my best friend’s debut as a spokesperson. I have a lot riding on the success of this launch.” “We’d love to help with the brand anyway we can. Breeze could even be a liaison if you’d like.” He forced a smile, not liking the way Judy volunteered Breeze without consulting her. “I’ll pass the information along. But in talking with Breeze and Nancy, I got the impression Breeze was slated for a store manager position.” Judy raised one shoulder in a shrug and turned back to the crowd. “She’s done an amazing job with this, but most of our managers have a bit more experience. Special projects like this get her there.” Yes, but it didn’t help her goal of being the youngest store manager.
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“After this she’ll be back on our new stores team, but we can make sure she’s available for any other projects with Nitrous.” “Does that mean she’ll be managing a new store?” “No, just helping with training and launches throughout the country.” He quirked an eyebrow, following Judy’s gaze back to Breeze. Did she know? Was that why she wasn’t pushing him on their future? Because with her traveling that much, there wasn’t much chance of one. After the best-set walk through, he followed Breeze to the training room and closed the door behind them. She had kept a calculated distance all morning, and he needed to know what was going on. “It’s inappropriate for the door to be closed.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, just busied herself with her training materials. “You want them to hear what I have to say?” “I don’t want for you to say anything they shouldn’t hear.” He stepped closer, near enough to breathe in the grapefruit scent she wore. “You know, ignoring me is more obvious than anything.” “If Judy Lawson thinks I’m sleeping with you, I’ll be fired on the spot.” “Then stop acting like I have the plague and act naturally.” “It’s not me I’m worried about. You look at me like, well, like you shouldn’t.” He shook his head. “That’s a natural reaction. Two of the managers were checking you out during the walk through. No matter how I look at you, which I’ve been very careful of, it’ll seem normal.” Breeze huffed out a short breath. “I have a lunch meeting with Judy and then two more store tours. I didn’t expect you until tonight.” “I couldn’t wait.”
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“Well, you have to. Judy is friends with my grandmother, so if she suspects, I’ll get the lecture of the century from my grandmother. If she can prove something, I’ll get fired.” “And which are you more afraid of?” He got the hint of a smile he’d been aiming for. “Can you just meet me at the hotel?” “You’re brushing me off?” “I’m working. For you.” “You don’t work for me.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll do some shopping and meet you at the hotel.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Hurry.” Stretching his neck from side to side, Logan scanned the hotel lobby, mentally going over the bag of gifts he’d picked up at a bookstore for Breeze. He’d shopped for a while, then driven to the hotel. When he arrived, he learned the hotel was completely booked for a writers convention. He couldn’t get a suite, so her room would have to suffice. But since the room was in Breeze’s name, he couldn’t even check in early. Not even that would deter him. Seeing her at work this morning was a strange turn-on. She was right. He probably looked at her like he shouldn’t. But so did everyone else. The women seemed impressed by her, the men affected in more than one way. It surprised him how much he liked that, appreciated her capability. There had to be a way to show how much he appreciated how she’d pulled this campaign off without making it seem like an employee incentive. So he’d gone shopping with her in mind, picking up a genealogy workbook he hoped might prompt her to actually call her parents. He and Janelle had pieced together
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a family tree as best they could for Ashley’s baby book. This book had questions she could ask, ways to pull memories into stories. Memories forever lost to him. The workbook was for her, but the poker kit was for them. On his list of ways to pass time, poker hovered near the top. He could teach her a lesson or two by playing strip poker, but he knew after a few rounds she’d turn the tables on him. And he could just picture his friends’ faces when Breeze walked into his house and sat down at the table for their weekly game. They’d be drooling, for one. And underestimating her, for another. She was smart and observant and would be a shark at poker. Maybe after the launch, they’d sneak away to Vegas. He blinked against the dreamy glaze in his eyes and focused on poker. He wanted her to be able to understand enough about poker to enjoy it. Kind of like sex. Damn. Everything with Breeze came back to sex. His need for her careened dangerously towards the limits of his control, burning so hot he worried it might burn right out. She’d tire of him quickly if he didn’t show her there was more to him than a good time. His heart stalled at the thought. He prided himself on being a good time. On enjoying life to the fullest at every moment. Not worrying too much about what might happen, instead living in the present. She made him think about things he couldn’t, at least not yet. What kind of idiot planned a future with a woman who insisted on keeping the relationship under wraps? On someone whose trust in you was tenuous at best. The kind of idiot who daydreamed his afternoon away in hotel lobbies, that’s who. The air shifted, and he felt her there before he looked up to spy her walking through the doors, flanked by Judy Lawson. The reception desk was on one side
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of the main entry, the lobby on the other. He’d found an upholstered chair near the entrance, but behind an alcove wall in case she didn’t arrive alone. Good thing, since Judy stayed with her all through check-in. Logan fished a news magazine from the bag and held it up to obscure his face if Judy happened to look his way. He kept it there until she left. Gathering his suitcase, hers that he never returned to Anthony, and the bag of books, he stepped to the elevator, watching as Breeze collected her bags. He stood at the elevators, listening to the click of her heels as she made her way from the lobby until she stalled a few feet from him. He didn’t turn, but could see her wide-eyed expression mirrored in the polished metal of the elevator doors. Reaching forward, he pressed the call button. “Where were you?” she whispered, fighting a smile. “Judy came in with me. If she saw you…” The elevator car arrived and he stepped inside without a word. He stared straight ahead, biting his cheek to keep from making any expression. Breeze narrowed her eyes as she entered, looking him up and down. But before she could say anything a heavy-set, balding man suited up for business joined them. All three stared straight ahead, Breeze and the gentleman each pressing a button for their floor. Logan watched the other man’s gaze travel over Breeze, dripping over her, pooling at the cleavage hinted at by the open buttons of her blouse. He didn’t feel jealous, more saddened. Dressed as professionally as the man, Breeze presented an image of single-minded career woman. And yet, Baldy stripped her of her guise and reduced her to her parts in the first thirty seconds. No wonder she needed to desexualize herself to be successful at work. Combining the two wasn’t possible for simple minds like this lout.
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The bell dinged, indicating the fifth floor. He followed Breeze as she stepped out and marched down the hall. She stopped at a door, swiped a plastic card through the reader and a green light flashed their entrance. He reached around her, pushing the door open and nudging her inside with his shoulder. Her feet stuttered, but she entered the room. She parked her bags against the wall of the small room and turned to face him, her eyes blazing with what he guessed was indignation. “Say something, damn it.” He kicked the door closed and maneuvered his bags next to hers. The room had an open alcove for a closet, one door he guessed went to the bathroom, a queen-sized bed covered in a polyester bedspread, one nightstand, a desk with a television on top angled towards the bed and a long couch upholstered to match the wallpaper. “In LA, we’re staying in my room.” He stepped closer, watching as she shook her head and blinked frantically. “What? Why are you coming to LA?” “For the Kicks launch.” She shook her head. “I’m going to get an early flight and go home so I can be in the store for the first day of sales.” “You should stay. It will be a great party. Food, celebrities, press. You’re the reason Mendelssohn’s kept the account, you should enjoy the perks.” “I wasn’t invited.” “I’m inviting you.” He reached behind her and undid the barrette holding her mass of curls at the nape of her neck. “We can’t go together.” “You’ll go for Mendelssohn’s, I’ll go for me.” “You mean for Nitrous?”
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“Not really. The spokesperson is a friend of mine.” Sure he was working that night, but more as Kellen’s keeper than the Kicks brand manager. “You know Kellen Jackson? Did you play soccer together?” “Since we were four.” Until a bus accident had ended Logan’s career and distance had them drifting apart. “Could you get an autograph for Anthony? He is a huge fan. Huge.” She smiled so wide her cheeks brightened. “He’s threatening to take home the Kicks posters when the set changes for the holiday season.” “If you come to the party, you can get an autograph yourself.” He leaned in, taking his time to memorize every curve of her face. “I don’t want it to seem—” She gasped as his lips brushed against hers. She melted, parting her lips so he could reacquaint himself with the taste of her. He pulled away and licked his lips. “I like those shoes.” He stepped away from her and sat on the bed, toeing off his Kicks. “My shoes?” She looked down at the pointed-toe heels, then back at him. “Why?” “They make you taller than usual. I don’t have to bend down so much. Come here.” He held out a hand. “I think you have the wrong idea.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “No, I have a brilliant idea.” He motioned with his hand for her to step closer, but she stayed rooted. “I don’t want to have sex with you right now.” “Yes, you do.” He smiled until she looked away, studying her shoes again. Time for plan B. “But not yet. Take off your shoes.” He stood, picked up his bag of tricks and crossed the room to the couch.
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“You just said that you liked them.” She did as he asked, but eyed him with suspicion as she came closer. “Come on, I got you presents.” He pulled a box from the bag and opened it, removing a pair of socks. He was skeptical they’d help him do anything more than a normal foot rub, but Breeze seemed to like gimmicks. “What are those?” “Reflexology socks. You put them on and when I rub your feet, I can concentrate on where you’re tense. I think. They came with directions. You can read them to me.” She broke into a fit of nervous giggles and scampered back to her bag, digging in one of the pockets. She skipped back to where he sat and showed him her find. Reflexology socks. “Do they work?” “I’m not sure. I thought it was interesting though.” “Grab the pillows from the bed and come here.” He peeled off his socks and replaced them with the ones diagramed to show which parts of his feet corresponded to his head, kidneys, and such. He looked up to see her staring at him, clutching the pillows to her body. “Take off your coat and stay awhile.” He tossed the pillows against the opposite end of the couch while she unbuttoned her blazer and laid it on the desk chair. She sat against the pillows and plopped her feet in his lap. “Oh no, this isn’t a freebie.” He turned, stretching his legs along the couch outside of hers. “I do you and you do me.” He pulled on her socks and stared. “Yours are better than mine. They have spots on the top too.” “According to the book that comes with them, you’re supposed to do belly breathing.” “What’s that?”
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“Deep breaths.” “Ah.” He ran his thumbs up the arches of her feet, noting the different colored bubbles covering the socks. Inside each bubble was a word telling what body part the color corresponded to. His eyes widened. Hers were much more detailed than his. And a bit naughtier. On the instep of her foot, clear as day, was the word breast. He needed no more prompting and began his massage there. His dirty mind found all the naughty spots; the purple dot of her uterus just below the inside of her ankle, the place where her shin met her foot for her fallopian tubes, just below her ankle on the outside for her ovaries. It must be a subtle effect, because she stared off over his shoulder, kneading the arch of his foot. She wasn’t even looking at the spots. “This is nice.” She smiled, leaning her head against the couch. “I didn’t think we could do this.” “Do what?” “Not talk.” “I can be quiet long enough to bore you, I promise.” This direct attack wasn’t working. Time for a more round about approach. He sought out the middle of her big toe, and the word brain. “It’s just good to know, is all. It’s weird we both got the socks. I thought of this when I got them. Not doubling up, but playing with them together. Like we did with the cards.” “You just wanted a look at my feet. You probably have a foot fetish.” “If I did, I’d want them smaller. These are huge.” She lifted his feet by his big toes and then let them plop back down in her lap. “You know what they say, big feet…” He rubbed just below her big toe, the spots for her neck. She stretched it from side to side.
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“Big shoes. I know.” She hid a yawn behind the back of her hand. “It’s all about the shoes with you. Long day?” “Never ending. I had an overnight flight from Mississippi. Mississippi? No, Missouri. St. Louis. Anyway, then the best-set today and a training class.” He moved to the spot marked shoulders under her baby toe. She let out a deep breath. “I could fall asleep right now.” His thumbs traced the inside arch of her foot, the blue part marked spine. “It’s only four.” “I’ve been up since four yesterday morning.” She yawned again. “Sorry. I knew I was meeting with Judy and wanted everything perfect, so I polished my presentation, caught up on all my e-mail. Perfect, perfect, perfect.” Her head lolled against the couch cushion, her hands just holding his feet. “What about your day?” “Yesterday was work and a swim. Got up, took an early flight, ogled you all morning, and now I’m here.” “You swim a lot.” “It burns nervous energy.” “So does running. Maybe we should go for a run.” She didn’t bother to hide her yawn behind her hand this time. “Tomorrow.” “I can’t run.” He shifted, focusing on the outside edge of her foot and the top of her heel marked lower back. He didn’t want to talk about it now, ever really. But she needed to know at some point. “I’m lucky I can walk.” “Why?” “Take the socks off.” His pulse raced, and he forced his breathing to steady. She pulled off the sock on his right foot, her fingers moving over his flesh, but he couldn’t feel it. Probably tracing the raised pink scars where he had no sensation.
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Her gaze was hot on him, but he couldn’t meet it. He’d never let anyone actually look at the scars that didn’t have a medical degree. Even when Janelle asked, he’d said no. But he wanted Breeze to see, to see all of him. “What happened?” She pulled off the other sock and began rubbing his feet in places he could feel. “Bus accident. We were traveling between games; I was asleep in my berth. I just remember spinning. It felt like I’d been stuck in a dryer, hot and dark and tumbling, except my feet were stuck so I was getting whipped all over the place. And then it was quiet.” “You passed out?” “Yeah. Woke up on the side of the road.” The image of Kellen screaming in his face dropped his temperature so fast he couldn’t suppress a shudder. “And that was the end of professional soccer.” “You need two good feet to play. Now if it had been my hands, I could have gone a few more years.” “Thank God it wasn’t your hands.” She released his feet and leaned forward. “I really like your hands.” She reached between them, taking his fingers in hers. “Let’s put these hands to good use.” “Breeze, you’re really tired. Maybe you should take a nap before dinner instead.” She climbed up off the couch and cast a glance at the windows. She drew the drapes closed, darkening the room with a warm orange glow. A satisfied smile played on her lips when she turned back around. “I’m going to take a nap, right after you make love to me, nice and slow. Relax me right to sleep.” She stepped closer to the couch. “Want to see something?” “What?”
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She unbuttoned the blouse, revealing a lacy black demi-bra with a pink bow at the center hugging her breasts. Shimmying out of her pants, she revealed matching black lace panties, a pink ribbon dancing around her waist and a matching bow beneath her belly button. “You won’t let me see it in the light?” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m serious about falling asleep after.” “Ah, then drapes closed it is.” Reaching out, he wrapped his hands over her hips, the lace scratching at his palms as he pulled her closer. He looked up, his gaze locking with hers, and his heart stalled, time seeming to slow as the moment forever imprinted itself in his mind. He’d never be able to forget anything about her. The realization was at once terrifying and deeply comforting. Did she feel it too? Reality heckled in the back of his mind. She didn’t want anyone to know. That wasn’t acceptance. He took a deep breath and rose above it, standing and taking her hand. He wouldn’t tell her how he felt until she was ready to tell the world. But bottling it inside made him want to scream. If he couldn’t tell her, he’d show her. Leave no doubt in her suspicious mind of what road they were traveling down together. Bright red numbers from the bedside alarm clock were the only light in the room. Logan’s slow, satisfied breath the only sound. And if her stomach hadn’t growled her awake with a reminder her lunch meeting hadn’t included food, Breeze would be happy to slumber beside him for the rest of the night. The clock told her it was only eight, so she sat up slowly, careful not to rouse the man beside her. She widened her eyes, blinking until the edges of things
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came into focus. She found a shirt, his, and underpants, hers, slipped them over her body and tiptoed to her bag. Pulling out her cell phone she made her way across the room to the tiny desk. Like every other room she’d stayed in, she knew this one would have a folder in the drawer with numbers for local take-out restaurants and room service. She took it to the window and pulled back the drape slightly, just enough so she could make out the letters on the pages. Pizza seemed like the path of least resistance. Fast, easy, came right to the door so she wouldn’t even need to get dressed. Going out to dinner would be nicer, but she didn’t really want to leave the room. Here it felt like she and Logan were in a protected bubble. If they stepped outside, even for something as innocent as a meal, there were too many people she’d been introduced to today who might happen to be at the same restaurant. All the faces were blending together, so she wouldn’t even know she’d been made. She squeezed her head between her hands to make the paranoia stop. She had such little time with him that she was tired of wasting it on worry. They could stay in and maybe watch a movie on television. The only movies she ever saw were on airplanes. It felt impish, whispering her order into the phone as if it were a secret. But he’d had a long day, long week too. When they got back home she’d have to get used to how much he had to travel. Though it might keep him from pressuring her to work less if she compensated while he was away. She didn’t know what he wanted from her after she got home, and she wasn’t about to ask. If he told the truth, she might be forced to end things now. And she wanted a little indulgence, a little fun. She deserved it with as hard and as much as she’d been working. Traveling across the country was exhausting.
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Her mother would call it an adventure. Breeze grinned, recalling how Logan had told her to try one new thing in each city so she’d remember them. Her mother would love that about him. Her mother, whom she still hadn’t gotten a hold of. Over the last week she’d realized she hadn’t spoken with her parents in three months. Not on purpose, messages kept getting crossed between her busy life and their hectic schedule. Every time she called she got their machine. She hadn’t noticed until now how unsatisfying phone tag could be. If it was eight here, it would only be six back home. Dinnertime. Surely they’d be home for dinner. She dialed the number and held her breath, sighing at the fourth ring, knowing the answering machine would click on next. She left yet another message, worrying about why she hadn’t heard from them. Surely if someone were sick, they would have told her. Though no one had mentioned when their neighbor, Mr. Baker, died. It had taken a year for her to find out, and only because she’d asked how he was. They claimed they didn’t think to tell her because they knew she wouldn’t come back for the funeral. True, she hadn’t been back since the day she left. Maybe she should go, surprise them. Adolescent transgressions weren’t meant to haunt you forever. Ever since that one mistake, she’d been careful. Never acting in a way that would make her family anything but proud. But even a college degree, owning her own home, and having a successful career couldn’t seem to make up for the five minutes of her life when she did what she knew she shouldn’t. Everything about that moment felt wrong. Or was that just hindsight? Even though in her head she knew being with Logan was risky, it didn’t feel wrong or forbidden or unnatural. But if she and Logan were exposed, ugly rumors would circulate and things would rapidly spiral out of control. Would she change her mind about the way she felt now?
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She closed her eyes against the idea. Regret wasn’t something she wanted to associate with Logan. She’d much rather focus on the way she felt around him, light and complete and, dare she think it, happy. She turned to watch as he slept on his stomach, not a care in the world. How did he break through her defenses so easily? Was he good at searching for someone’s weaknesses and exploiting them, or did he really care as much as he seemed to? He stirred, rolling onto his back and rubbing his hand over his stomach until it disappeared beneath the sheet. She smiled, knowing where it went. She had plenty of time to wallow in doubt when he wasn’t around. Since he was here, and willing even while he slept, best to enjoy him while she still had the chance.
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Chapter Twelve
“Artichoke hearts?” Logan picked the offending vegetable from the pizza and set it in the box. “You couldn’t meet me halfway?” “What’s halfway? Mushrooms?” Breeze sat cross-legged on the couch, the pizza between them. “Half-meat, half-veggie. I’d do it for you.” Her choice of topping didn’t keep him from eating half of the pie, and draining two of the root beers he’d salvaged from the vending machine down the hall. “I didn’t think about it. Next time, I promise.” She leaned forward, wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. He caught her wrist. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.” “I’m supposed to look at you with sauce on your face?” With his other hand, he swiped the box onto the floor and pulled her across the couch and into his lap. His mouth found hers and she lost herself in his kisses. Every move had an air of authority, a confidence that reassured her. When he pulled away, he held her face in his hands and her soul in his mesmerizing gaze. “I got you a present,” he said with a smile, pulling her deeper into his spell. “I know. I’ve enjoyed it twice already.” She smiled back at him, hoping he’d catch her meaning and take control. “I love how your naughty mind works, but I don’t want you thinking that’s the only reason I came to see you.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
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He laughed so hard she shook against his bare chest. “No, I want you, but I want to spend some time not horizontal too.” He sat up and shifted her off him. She made a face and stood, gathering the napkins and empty pop cans. “We could watch television. Maybe one of the movie channels?” “What movie channels?” The corner of his mouth twitched and he raised an eyebrow. “Whatever one is playing a movie you haven’t seen. I don’t watch many movies, so I’m game for anything.” “What are you asking to watch exactly?” “I don’t know. Not horror or drama, just something light and mindless. Comedy or action, I guess.” “Oh.” He let out a deep breath and a silent chuckle. “What?” The room straightened, she sat back down on the couch and pulled a pillow into her lap. “I thought you were talking about the adult movie channels.” She gasped, covering her gaping mouth with her hand. “Good. Because porn is really not my thing.” She scrunched her eyebrows. “I thought guys like porn.” “Some.” He shrugged. “I just get weirded out by it. Always have, since my first peek at a magazine at a friend’s house. Probably because the model looked like my sister. I can’t get out of my head that those people have families, real lives. So unless we make one, you’re on your own with that.” “I don’t…we’re not…” She waved her hands through the air, then plopped them onto the pillow. “Next subject please.” “Let’s see what’s in my bag of tricks.” He reached behind him for the shopping bag and held it between them. “Close your eyes and pick something.”
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She stuck her hand inside and grabbed the first thing she encountered. What she found tightened her throat. Our Family History. She flipped it open, her eyes growing heavy at all the questions and blank space to fill in. “Did you call your mom?” “She hasn’t been home.” She cleared her throat. “They’ll love going through this. Thank you.” “We could do one now.” “One what?” She shut the book, another inch closer to deciding she would finally go back home for a visit. “A question.” He pulled the book from her hands and opened it. “How about family vacations? What were yours like?” “You go first.” She forced a smile and welcomed the distraction. “We used to go back to Vermont every Thanksgiving. It’s where my mom grew up.” “That’s nice. It’s supposed to be beautiful there in autumn with all the leaves.” “Some years there were still leaves. But the last year we went was a blast. We landed fine, drove the hour to my grandparents’ house, no problem. Then while we were eating lunch it started to snow. “Janelle and I were excited. We were lucky to get snow every four years at home. We went out and played and played until we were frozen stiff. We went to sleep that night staring out the window. “We woke up to four feet of snow, completely snowed in. It was Vermont, so they were used to that and had the streets cleared by nightfall. But that morning, it was gorgeous. We opened the upstairs windows and watched the light reflecting everywhere off the snowbanks.” “How old were you?”
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“Nine.” “You never went again?” He shook his head, a wistful smile twisting his lips. “My grandfather died and my grandmother planned to come live with us. But she never made it.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand and held his fingers in hers. “My mom said they couldn’t stand to be apart.” He shrugged and took a deep breath. “Your turn.” “I don’t have anything like that.” She pouted and hugged the pillow, searching her mind. “Did you visit your grandparents?” “My grandmother. My dad is older than my mom; his parents were gone before I was born. I’d get to visit my grandmother and she’d take me shopping in one of her stores. It was fantastic. I even got my hair done, straightened. I got to be somebody else.” He crinkled his nose. “How long is it when it’s straight?” “Think Lady Godiva.” His head fell back on his shoulders and he groaned. “I’ll get it straightened the next time I get it cut. It takes too long to do it myself.” “I like it curly. I don’t think it would be as much fun to play with straight. But you know, if you wanted to make that video…” “Not happening. What else is in the bag?” He held up the bag again and she dug in, coming up with the complete works of Shakespeare. He dug in the bag and handed her a study guide. “Where are you going with this?” “I love Shakespeare.” “You do?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see just what he meant.
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“My mom taught it at the university. They do Shakespeare in the park in August. I was thinking we’d go together.” “You’re asking me out on a date I need to study for?” She set the books on the floor. August was still three weeks away, and two weeks past his usual relationship limit. “I want you to be able to follow along.” “Have you been to the Shakespeare festival in Ashland?” “I try.Mmost years I make it down.” “I grew up in Ashland. They have some great programs for home-schooled kids. Growing up, I saw every production, a dozen plays a year. And I got to work on the sets, in the box office, in the chorus, ushering.” “Wow. Let’s go when the project wraps. You’re getting some time off and the festival runs all summer.” Adrenaline rushed through her veins. Even though Logan knew the humiliation she’d suffered back home, he didn’t know how ugly it had gotten, had never seen the way people looked at her. She wouldn’t risk letting him. “Shakespeare in the park sounds nice.” Two could play at this meet the family game. “Maybe your parents could come too.” His expression went blank and he took a deep breath. “They died when I was sixteen.” “Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” “I know. I don’t talk about it, and it’s not something that comes up easily.” She pushed the pillow to the floor and crawled over his legs to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m okay. You don’t have to—”
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“Give me a minute here. You’ve had time to deal with this, I just found out.” She couldn’t let him see the tears in her eyes, so she didn’t look up, just squeezed tighter. As she held him, her image of him came into sharper focus. This must be why he always encouraged her to call her parents. Between their death in his teens and his nearly dying during the bus accident, it was no wonder he was so committed to living every moment. To not planning for a future that might never come. It wasn’t her he was avoiding, it was losing something he loved like his parents and soccer. “I didn’t expect this from you.” He twisted a curl between his fingertips. She listened as he told her about the car accident, acting out and coming to terms with it, all Janelle sacrificed so he wouldn’t have to change anything else in his life. He placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Now, up with you. There is one more present in the bag.” She sat up and wiped her eyes, glad for the subject change but not for the distance. Especially when he widened it by standing up and walking away. “Where are you going?” He pointed to the bathroom door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. She used the time to take a deep breath and try to come to terms with what she’d learned. Their relationship working beyond stolen moments and dark hotel rooms took on an entirely new significance. Breeze was grateful he’d pursued her. He must have felt something special too, maybe even more than she did to trust her with this much of himself. Hope washed over her, making her want to show him she understood all he’d trusted her with. But how?
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The bag sat at her feet and she looked inside. What she found wasn’t a book, but a box. Opening it, she was hit by the warm smell of chocolate before she even removed the booklet and lifted the paper liner. Inside were rows of chocolate disks and tubs of something else. Knitting her brows together, she balanced the box on her crossed legs and opened the booklet. It explained how chocolate was made. Each of the tubs showed the different stages in the process. Beans, nibs, butter, unsweetened chocolate. The chocolate disks demonstrated the kinds of chocolate, white and milk, and the differing cocoa contents of dark chocolate. “You found it.” She looked up to find Logan next to her. He set down two glasses of water and joined her on the couch. “It looks like fun, right?” “Eating an entire box of chocolate? What’s not to like?” She opened the tub of cocoa butter and sniffed. It had a warm aroma, but nothing like chocolate. She set it down. “Mmm. Cocoa butter.” He picked it up and sniffed, then made a face. “I thought it would be like tanning lotion.” “Why?” She laughed and opened the beans. Again, no chocolate smell. Quite disappointing. “Isn’t that what tanning lotion smells like? Cocoa butter?” He sniffed again and shrugged. “I think that’s coconut oil.” She tried the cocoa nibs, the smell recognizable, but not strong. “It’s amazing, the amount of processing that goes into chocolate. I mean, for hundreds of years, they just chomped on beans. Just like coffee.” “I bet finding chocolate was a mistake. Coffee too. Someone messed up in the kitchen and, voila, new treat.” Opening the unsweetened chocolate, she took a deep whiff, the rich, warm smell invading her lungs. “If they had a chocolate perfume, I’d wear it.”
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“Really?” He quirked an eyebrow and grabbed a white chocolate disk, rubbing the edge on his lips, then holding it up. “Come and see how you like white chocolate.” She made a face. “I don’t. It’s too sweet.” “Just try it.” He held out his disk and she grabbed his wrist, taking a small nibble from the chocolate. “Not for me.” She picked up a disk on the far end of the box, nearly black it was so dark. Eighty-five percent cocoa. She bit into the piece and hummed her approval. He mirrored her move, then scrunched his face. “How can you eat that? It’s almost bitter.” “With other kinds I taste the sugar, not the chocolate.” She laid the rest of the disk flat on her tongue and let it melt. “I’m a milk chocolate person myself. I go crazy in Europe. All the chocolate is dark and buttery. I like American milk chocolate. Sweet and creamy.” He ate a milk chocolate disk whole. “How often do you go to Europe?” She took the next grade of chocolate, seventy-two percent, and was pleased to find it just as delicious. “For work? About twice a year. But I was thinking about when I played soccer and we’d go more often. The US is really the only place soccer is a minor sport. In Europe, they have amazing training facilities, and the fans are incredible. It’s wild.” “Are you gone a lot for work?” She drained her water, then tried the next step down on the chocolate ladder, sixty percent. Definitely sweeter and not as smooth. But still good. “Some. I will more as Kicks launches internationally. Unless I’m able to segue over into brand marketing. Then I’ll only have to travel for events, like the Olympics. And the Superbowl. The Final Four. It’s every sports nut’s dream job.”
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“You don’t want to stay with Kicks?” “I love the concept, and I’ll do what I can to support Kicks and Kellen, no matter what. But brand marketing is too big of an opportunity to pass up. Kellen will understand.” He took another milk chocolate disk. “Live a little.” She handed him a sixty percent. “I was thinking about after, when we get home, and how much you’ll be around. I could work like normal while you’re gone and only feel guilty when you’re home.” “Glad my schedule accommodates your workaholic tendencies.” He took a sip from his glass. “But there’s another way we could see more of each other.” “Is there?” Breeze set the box aside, not wanting anything in the way if he was willing to talk about where the relationship was going. “Nitrous wants you to run one of the local retail stores.” Her eyes widened and she shook her head slowly. “You want me to work for Nitrous? That causes more problems than it solves.” “Not work for me.” He reached for her hand, but she kept her fingers straight and stiff as he held it. “The director of US retail is very impressed. She wants someone with your kind of drive on her team. I have the specifics of the offer with me, and proof from the employee handbook that as long as we work for separate departments, our relationship won’t be an issue for Nitrous.” Breeze swallowed hard and blinked, trying to think of how to respond. Had he opened up to deepen what they shared, or only to get her to feel more comfortable with him and want to work for Nitrous? “Working for the same company would force us to keep hiding our relationship. Is that what you want?” “There’s no need to do that. You’ll work at the store level, not even on the Nitrous campus. It will be better for you. Nitrous requires you have two days off
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a week, and take at least five weeks of vacation a year. Not like what you do now.” True, she hadn’t taken a vacation since starting with Mendelssohn’s, and always worked six days a week. The thought of having too much time to herself niggled at her belly. What would she do if she couldn’t go to work? “You’re still thinking we shouldn’t work for the same company. Really, it’s no big deal. Janelle and her husband both work at Nitrous. And on my team there’s a guy whose wife works in accounting.” “Those people are married, Logan. We’re barely dating. If things don’t work out it’ll get awkward. And I’m on the right track with Mendelssohn’s.” Though as she rose in the company she’d have to start moving to where the positions were open, instead of being able to stay in her home state. Which meant she’d see her family even less, unless she went to them. “Think about it later. Lose the shirt.” “Excuse me?” She crossed her arms across her breasts, holding his shirt to her body at her sides. “Look at the size of these disks? Do they give you any ideas?” He circled his finger and thumb around a white chocolate circle, holding it in the air. “None.” “Then I get to go first.” He picked up the box and walked to the bed, setting the box on the nightstand. “Come on.” He extended a hand. “I’m not following you.” “Ah, I see you need more convincing.” He stalked to the couch, nearly pouncing on top of her and unfastening her hands from her sides. “Chocolate melts.” He nuzzled into her neck, breathing against the spot behind her ear that made her squirm. “I’m going to lay you down. You’re so hot the disks will melt,
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and then I am going to lick off the chocolate.” His hands slipped under the hem of the shirt to grip her hips. “I don’t know. What about you? That hardly seems fair.” The wheels of her mind started to turn, and turn the tables on him. “Hey, if you want to play, I won’t stop you.” He stood, offering her a hand as they stepped to the bed. “Lose the shirt.” “Not yet. You go first.” He smiled and shucked his boxers, lacing his fingers behind his head as he lay back on the bed. “Roll over.” She opened the lid of the box, watching his alarmed expression from the corner of her eye. “Why? What are you going to do?” “Don’t you trust me, Logan?” She sank a knee onto the bed and flipped one dark disk between her fingers. “I promise, you’ll like it.” He rolled over. “Maybe we should set some ground rules.” She opened the tub of cocoa butter. The sound must have spooked him because he turned his head to her, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?” “Lie still and relax or this might hurt.” She bit her cheek to keep from grinning too wide. “Seriously, what are you going to do?” “Seduce you.” He groaned, crossing his hands under his head and resting his forehead on them. Breeze placed the disk on the base of his neck. “Now don’t move or it will fall off.” She dipped her fingers into the cocoa butter and smeared it on her palms. It warmed quickly, softening into the lubricant she’d hoped for.
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She flattened her hands against his back, the cocoa butter letting her hands glide as she learned the nuances of his muscle and sinew. The sensual energy of touching him filled her, heating her blood, giving her a power and control she’d never dreamed of. A powerful ache formed deep inside her, wanting nothing more than release. His release. Could she do that? Inspire that kind of response in him? He always took the lead, which she liked, needed even, but every once in a while maybe she could have the upper hand. She worked her fingers on him, the broad expanse of his shoulders, the way his back narrowed down to his hips. The cocoa butter melted into his skin, making every motion fluid, every touch soft. The push and pull of the action became almost trancelike, until she dared to do what she’d been dying to since he first turned and walked away from her. Gripping each of his butt cheeks in her hands she kneaded and rubbed, feeling the power beneath his skin. Not wanting to seem overly interested in one area, she worked her way up to his lower back, though he didn’t seem to have an ounce of knotted muscle or tension anywhere. Her fingers glanced over the triangle of skin between his back and buttocks and he shivered. Surprised at her ability, she did it again. And so did he. “You like that?” She probably should have placed a chocolate right here, at the base of his spine where he was so sensitive. But it was too late. The chocolate on the back of his neck had already softened, the edges melting into his skin. Flattening her tongue on the base of his spine, she licked all the way up, smiling at the top. Not just from the taste of chocolate, but from her real prize, the way his hands fisted into the sheets.
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He’d taught her how sensitive that tiny spot could be, how it connected every cell in your body. She licked and kissed it clean, running her teeth against his flesh to make sure. In one swift move, he rose and flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. They laughed together, his more sinister than hers as he reached for the hem of the shirt and pulled it over her head. It tangled about her hands and she thought he was trying to help her pull free, but he stopped, leaving it more twisted than before. “Logan, help me.” She struggled with the shirt, but he sat up and placed one warm hand against her arm. “Leave it.” He reached for the box and pulled out the last of the white chocolate disks. “I’ll never be able to eat chocolate without thinking of you, just like this.” One cool disk covered her left nipple. Breeze thought it might be balancing on the nipple, so hard it could surely tip and fall off. But before she could think too much about it he set another disk on the opposite nipple. And another at the base of her throat, and the last he placed just below her belly button. Her breaths quick and frantic, she dared not close her eyes, not think about his skillful tongue removing the sticky sweetness she already felt melting. No wonder, she was so flushed she could melt more than chocolate. He rubbed the rest of the cocoa butter on his hands and scooted down the bed. His hands rubbed her feet, just as they had when they’d first gotten back to the room. Except now it felt different, erotic instead of soothing, invigorating instead of calming. Like he was using her feet to touch her other places. “Are you using reflexology points?” “Why? Where do you feel this?” He rubbed along the instep of her foot and she felt a faint tingle, as if he were touching her nipples from the inside. His
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hands traveled back behind her ankle, massaging her Achilles tendon and intensifying the ache growing in her womb. “I have gloves too.” She snuggled into the bed, a smile playing at her lips as she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations. “Gloves?” He worked his way up her legs, massaging her calves. “Like the socks, but showing where the touch points are in your hands. You have a magic touch.” His touch traveled over her knees, up her thighs, which she parted willingly. But his hands merely skimmed the edge of her panties as he gripped her hips. The kiss at her navel nearly had her arching off the bed. She would have, if she weren’t covered in chocolate disks. Though from the feel of his lips and tongue dancing about her stomach, she guessed the chocolate had melted into runny rivulets, if his fluttering tongue was any indication. His body hovered above hers as he kissed a path between her breasts to the melted chocolate pooling in the dip where her neck met her torso. His pointed tongue seemed to draw it up, almost to her chin, ear, before nibbling it away. The sounds of his satisfaction mingled with hers. In her mind’s eye she could see them, him hovering above her, her writhing beneath him, bare but for the black lace panties and white chocolate covering her nipples. The vision made her mouth water. “Hurry,” a throaty voice whispered, filled with want. It couldn’t be her sounding so needy, could it? “No.” He seemed intent to kiss every square inch of her body, as if this little game were a reward in and of itself. As if there weren’t something better they could be doing, together. “Please. I don’t want to wait.” She struggled against the shirt binding her hands.
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“Wait for what? If you tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it.” Sweet kisses peppered her rib cage, making her squirm. “I don’t want to talk dirty, I just…” She opened her eyes and tried harder with the shirt. What had he done, tied the thing in knots? “Try it. Where do you want me to kiss you next?” He pushed back, lying next to her on his side, his hot gaze dripping over her bare skin. A part of her screamed to tell him exactly what she needed, but it was a tiny part, far too accustomed to being ignored. “The chocolate.” The muscles in her throat tightened as she swallowed hard. “Right here?” His pointed tongue lapped up the white chocolate pool at the base of her throat. Touching the chocolate. But not her. “You’re a tease.” “No, I’ll do whatever you ask.” His fingers danced around the indentation of her navel. The touch was innocent enough, but the memory of the way he had kissed and licked her there set her engine running. “I can’t, Logan.” She stared up at him, his caramel-brown eyes darkening like the night. Her body pulsed with the need to have him inside her, throbbing so hard she couldn’t stay still. “Please.” “You want me.” He had the nerve to snicker as he bowed his head, kissing her neck free of the chocolate. It felt good, but not as good as she wanted to feel. “Please.” “Say it. Say you want me.” His hands grasped her rib cage, just below her breasts. “You want me,” she said with a cheeky smile. “Why you little minx. You must not be ready yet.” “I am. I’m trying here, Logan. The lights are on, and my panties are so wet you won’t even have to go slow. Please.”
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“And you said you can’t talk dirty.” He trailed lingering kisses down her neck, between her breasts, but nowhere near where she wanted, needed him to be. “It hurts.” She shifted her legs, beginning to work on the shirt again. She had to be free, touch herself, even if she didn’t know how as well as he did. “What hurts?” “I’m aching, throbbing. Every time my heart beats I feel it.” “Where?” “Between my legs.” She licked her lips, watching as his eyes followed her tongue around. Maybe she was going about this all wrong. “Don’t you ache, Logan? Should I have done more with you?” “You’re amazing. I just want you to know what you like.” His hands slid up, cupping her breasts. “Do you like this?” “As much as white chocolate.” “Too sweet for you?” He squeezed and she felt the stickiness of the white chocolate disks melted into her skin. “I suppose this isn’t enough either.” She shook her head. “No. I like dark chocolate.” She swallowed hard and tried to give him what he wanted. The tiniest bit of dirty talk in her throatiest voice. “Deep and full.” His groan told her she was on the right track. As did his body when he lowered his head and swirled his tongue around the edge of the melted chocolate. In frustration, she struggled with the shirt again, deciding to take a different approach. Instead of fighting it, she slid against it, trying to free one hand. A wicked thrill shimmied up her spine as her hand slipped free and she tossed the shirt to the ground. In possession of all her faculties, she reached for him, running the fingers of one hand down his back and threading the others
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through his hair as she tried to guide him towards her nipple. He would not be swayed. “I like sweet.” His hot breath puffed against her skin, heightening the pressure between her legs, a force so deep it was growing painful. “Even without the chocolate, your skin is so sweet.” He pulled her nipple deep into his mouth, his tongue moving around inside the hot cavern. She couldn’t think, could only feel. Her hands dropped to the bed, her pulse thundering, heart racing. He released her and she sucked in a quick breath. But the reprieve didn’t last long. His lips surrounded her other nipple, pulling in while his lips and teeth worked their magic. She was so close it was impossible to fight it anymore. And she didn’t want to. Her world unraveled and she arched into him, enjoying the sound of her whimpering cries. Her inner muscles clenched, reminding her of the emptiness, but she clung to the pleasure he did offer as the orgasm quivered through her body. “You weren’t kidding.” He sighed against her neck, pulled her into his arms, held her while she fought for breath, finding a warm soft place to relax. “Don’t fall asleep on me. I’m not through with you yet.” “Promise?” She curled into him, wrapping a leg over his thigh. She felt liquid and daring, wanting to please him. She rolled atop him, straddling his body and looking down. “I am so clean.” She ran her hands over her breasts. “You did such a good job.” The air in the room felt different, charged with carnal desire so thick she could taste it. A heady feeling that squashed her inhibitions, dared her to do things she’d never usually dare. She didn’t care to analyze why she dared with Logan, what it was about him, them, that empowered her. She just wanted.
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His eyes glimmered with promise and she held his gaze, sliding her body down until she nestled his erection against her panties. He hissed, never breaking eye contact. She could swear she saw his body heat, his skin flush, eyes darken. A drug as potent as any found in a pharmacy. He shifted beneath her, fueling her desire. She rocked her hips against him, the tension beginning anew. A deliberate, sinful grin teased at her lips as she ran her hands up her body, cupping her breasts in her hands and tweaking her nipples between her fingers. His hands grasped at her hips, trying to move her off him, trying to roll them both over. But her legs stayed strong, as did her will to have him right where she wanted him, exactly how she wanted him. “Breeze, the lace is…” He hissed again as she rocked. “Take them off then.” She lifted up only slightly, unsure what to do. If she got up she’d lose her advantage, and he’d never let her have it again tonight. He hooked a finger in the crotch of the panties, pulling them aside and rubbing his knuckle against her core. She didn’t want the upper hand anymore. She just wanted his hand on her, and so much more. He stole a glance to the nightstand. She shook her head. “I don’t want any more chocolate.” “Me either. That’s where the condoms are.” His smile teased, making her realize she only had the upper hand because he let her. But she was fine with that, for now. He reached behind them and grabbed the box, opened it and dropped one on the bed before tossing the box back to the nightstand. “Now put it on.” Her eyebrows shot up. “What if I do it wrong?” “I’ll supervise.” His lips twitched as his smile widened.
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Not wanting to lose her position on top, she scooted down, enjoying the sight of him in the lamplight. Before she’d always felt him more than seen him, her mental picture of him wasn’t complete. She traced him with her fingers, measured with her hands. Learning where the colors and textures changed. “Breeze, you’re killing me here.” His words were strained, jaw clenched. And with them, he gave her power. She tore open the packet, her hands shaking only slightly as she placed the condom on top and rolled it down. “Does it hurt?” His penis looked so different sheathed in a condom. Smoothed, squeezed. But then maybe that’s what it felt like to be inside her. “No, desensitized, but not painful.” She slid back up his body and nestled him next to her core. Thoughts swirled in her mind, and she spoke without thinking about them. “Will it feel different without it?” “The condom? I don’t know. I’ve never done it.” “Can we try it?” She bit her lip, her stomach clenching. “Are you on the pill?” She shook her head. “When I get back I’ll get a diaphragm so we can try it. If we’re still together.” The tension built in the room like a brick wall. “Forget it. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She rocked against him, wanting them both to think of something other than her curiosity and doubts. “When I can tell people we’re together, then we can try it.” Her smile widened, the tension around her eyes softening. He’d never ever considered not using protection. There were more reasons than pregnancy, but with Breeze they faded away. Now it stood as the only risk. But he needed her to want to be with him, not have to be because of a birth control snafu.
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He reached up and pulled her to him, joined their mouths in a soul-searing kiss. He grasped her hip with one hand and pulled her panties farther to the side with the other. He threaded a finger inside, amazed by how tight she remained. She broke the kiss, shaking her head. She pulled at his hand, instead lifting up slightly and gripping his erection in her fist. He let out a breath as she positioned him at her entrance and slid him inside with agonizing slowness. He closed his eyes, tried to focus on anything but the sensations driving him to the edge. She hummed, beginning to rock against him slowly, deliberately, gasping when he placed his thumb against the bud of her sex. Excitement flashed in her eyes as she began to pick up her pace. Her breath came in fast pants as she rode him, driving them both to the precipice. How long could they teeter there? He clenched his jaw and watched as her eyes fluttered closed, her head lolling to the side as she gave herself over to it. Watching was dangerous to his control, but he couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to miss a second of her looking like this, letting go this way. He grasped her hips, thrusting deep inside her. Felt her stretch around him, the snug fit erotic and intimate. Her slow and tentative movements grew bolder by the second, until she was moving, dancing to a rhythm all her own. Lost in the moment. All he ever wanted from her. The thought nearly had him losing himself in her. But he didn’t need to wait long for her. Her breath caught and she fell forward, catching herself on her hands, but not for long. She collapsed against his chest, her orgasm beginning in slow waves. It felt different than usual, more intense and longer. As if her body was trying to milk him, pulling and pushing him within her. He shuddered, giving himself over to the intense, erotic sensations.
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He held her close, the mind-numbing glow of post-coital bliss fogging his brain. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. His mind warned him something had changed. He’d said something, he realized. But he didn’t know what. Not that it mattered. She surely hadn’t heard.
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Chapter Thirteen
“Someone’s been in your apartment.” Anthony’s tone teased, as if he already knew who’d been there, and what had gone on. “I had a fish guy come in and replace the filter.” Breeze tucked her phone in the crook of her neck and powered down her laptop. This day dragged on like the hours before she could close the store on Christmas Eve. “Is this the first time you’re feeding my fish?” “No. I fed them last week. Why am I bothering at all if you have a fish guy? And what is that anyway? I’ve heard of being too busy for a dog, but even you have enough time for fish.” “He came to fix the filter.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and got ready for bed. “It’s not like I can take a fifty-gallon tank in for repair.” “That makes sense.” Anthony let out a loud sigh. “I hoped it was someone else.” “Like who?” she asked the question, though she knew the answer. “Nothing with Mr. Hottie?” “Anthony, we’re working together. It’s not professional for us to be involved personally.” “We work together and we’re involved personally. I mean, I’m in your apartment right now. Is that appropriate?” “Probably not while I’m your manager, but I didn’t have a lot of time to make arrangements before I left.”
For Kicks
He chuffed. “Fine then, no more doing your shopping for you. You can go back to looking like a runt, wearing the same suit in a different color every day.” Time to backpedal. He had shown her how certain clothes could make her seem taller, but she didn’t think she could choose things on her own without making a mess of it. “You know I appreciate you. I’m not trying to be rude.” “Well, you are. But you won’t be my manager for much longer anyway.” “No?” Breeze perked up. She’d been trying to get Anthony promoted for six months. “No. Linen Closet made me an offer. I told Glen, and now Nancy is taking me to lunch next week. Gave me the we-don’t-want-to-lose-you-to-anothercompany speech. So until you get promoted, we’ll have the same title.” “Congratulations, Anthony. Christy and Glen have both said you are doing a great job filling in for me. I told you you’d be promoted this year. Wrote it on your review, if you’ll recall.” “It probably means we won’t be in the same store anymore. Unless you transfer me in when you get your promotion. I’ll be back to being your assistant, with a bigger paycheck.” “I’d work with you anywhere.” “Thanks, hon. How’s Las Vegas?” “That was yesterday, and I didn’t even have time to hit a casino. There have been stock issues with Kicks. Managers worried about the twenty-four-hour guarantee to have the right sizes. I did a few conference calls, and I think it’s all under control again.” She lay back on the bed, catching sight of the bedside alarm clock. Seven-thirty. All this switching time zones wreaked havoc on her internal rhythms. “Good. Now let’s try this again. Who’s been in your apartment? Because a fish guy isn’t going to hang up clothes I watched you pack.”
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Breeze sat up straight. “What are you talking about?” “This black skirt. I packed it myself. And these navy heels too.” “I changed some stuff after you left.” “Liar, liar, pants on fire. He’s been in your apartment? What is going on?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I’m talking about this pink dress. Which I packed in the suitcase Logan brought you two weeks ago. The suitcase, which is right here, back behind your coats. He’s been here. Now spill.” “No.” Damn it. Damn him. Damn, damn and double damn. “Come on, girl. It has to be good. I’ve seen him and the way he looks at you, and now you have him doing your bidding. Fantastic. What’s he like?” “Anthony, no. I’m not telling you anything. If you breathed a word and it got back to Glen or, God forbid, Nancy, I’d never forgive you.” “You are with him. Honey, I’m so happy. You really needed to get laid. I mean, seriously. You’re wound up so tight.” “I’m not discussing what may or may not have happened with you.” “You’re still holding out on him? What are you thinking?” “I’m thinking I’d like to keep my job. I’m thinking I’d like for the management team to see me as a professional and not a mattress.” “Okay, okay. I get it. But as soon as the project is over, lock him in a room and go at it. Unleash your inner slut. You need to loosen up, have some fun.” “I’m hanging up now. Not a word, Anthony. Please.” “It doesn’t sound like there is anything to tell. Yet.” “Good night, Anthony.” She turned off the phone and set it on the nightstand, falling back onto the pillows. Although a good friend, Anthony loved to gossip. Would he be able to keep it in for eight days until she got home?
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The phone chirped beside her and she grabbed at it quickly. She’d left messages every day this week for her parents. Still nothing. Logan’s work number showed on the display. “Have you decided about LA?” “Good evening to you too.” She smiled and rolled to her side, pressing a hand against her aching lower back. “Hi. Sorry. I need to know.” “Judy decided I should attend the event with her. In case there are any storelevel questions from the media.” “Okay.” He let out a long sigh. “Then I’m not coming to Arizona tomorrow.” “Okay.” A yawn escaped her. Good thing, because it covered her voice enough to hide the panic. They’d hit his three week mark, and now he was backing away. “Can you sound a little disappointed?” “I’m tired, Logan.” And she didn’t want to sound desperate and needy. Though she’d been looking forward to a foot rub all week. She got up from the bed and shuffled to her bag, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen. She popped two tablets and washed them down with a swig from the water bottle on the desk. “I know, but I won’t see you for another week. Two weeks, Breeze.” “If it makes you feel better, you wouldn’t have any fun with me tomorrow.” She grinned, realizing he was the one who sounded disappointed. “Sure we would.” “No, you’re not following me. It’s not that I don’t want to see you.” She hit the lights and climbed into bed. “I have my period. No fun for you.” “Ah. We could do other things.” “I don’t think so.” She pressed speaker and set the phone on the nightstand, snuggling into the pillows.
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“No, I mean outside of the room. Look at cacti and rocks.” “I like inside sports better.” She grinned, memories playing out behind her closed eyes. “How tired are you?” She heard him shift in his chair, the leather rasping, reminding her he was still at work. “Too tired for fun.” “Too bad. Do you want to know why I can’t come this weekend?” “Tell me.” “I’m playing golf with the vice president of brand marketing.” “A golf game.” Put everything in perspective. “If I get a position with brand marketing, I won’t have such a connection with the retail side. You’d be more comfortable working for Nitrous then.” “I have a job.” Though she liked that he wanted her to work for Nitrous. Not to mention the Nitrous offer he’d left her was amazing. And with as hard as Mendelssohn’s worked her, she was almost open to a change. “I know, but the director of retail really wants you to come on board. You can write your own ticket.” “Logan.” She injected a warning into her voice, but she wasn’t even sure of what. “Fine. How is Arizona?” “Hot salsa. Really hot. Next week I’ll be in California and you won’t get to quiz me.” “Sure I will. San Diego, Sacramento, San Francisco, Los Angeles. That is a lot of ground to cover.” “You forgot Fresno.” Not bothering to hide her yawn, she stretched her aching muscles. “Are you falling asleep?”
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“Trying to.” “It isn’t even eight. You’re working too hard.” He sounded concerned, not annoyed like he used to. She knew it was too early to be in bed, but she was too tired to care. “What are you going to dream about?” “Sleep. I dream about sleep.” “You should dream about me and you and my pool.” “You have a pool?” She conjured up the image. “Oh, that is a yummy thought.” “Yeah. I had the best dream about it last night. Want to hear it?” “You dreamed about us?” Oh, that had to be a good sign. “Don’t you? We were—” “Stop. I’m going to have my own dream.” One where the real world didn’t exist. No rumors, ramifications or fear. “Am I in it?” “Usually.” She swallowed and decided it was okay to let him know she wanted him too. “You’ll call, right? Even though you’re not coming?” “When you get home, can we do my dream in the pool?” She giggled, possibilities spinning through her mind. “Will I like it?” “You’ll love it.” She imagined the smile that went along with his low chuckle. “Good night.” She clicked off the phone and snuggled beneath the covers. Her dreams would be so sweet tonight. “Have you talked to my mother?” Breeze tapped her toe, staring out the airport window and the plane being loaded with baggage. She held her cell phone to her ear, listening to her grandmother take a long drag from her everpresent cigarette.
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“I got home last night,” Daphne answered. Breeze knew she’d been on a cruise. She and her boyfriend of the month constantly traveled. “I know, I thought she might have called you.” Like she always did, parenting her parent. “Rachel’s pretty busy these days.” She let out a hard breath, so filled with smoke Breeze could almost taste it. “With what?” “How is the Nitrous project going?” “Good. You—” “You’ve gotten all your frequent flyer miles? For the hotels and the flights?” “Yes, but—” “Make sure they give you a comp day for every three you worked. And get it in writing. Otherwise, you’ll never be able to cash it out at the end of the year.” Breeze grit her teeth. She knew exactly how to get the most out of traveling for work. She’d been taught by the best. “Unless you want to take a few days off. We could take a short trip together.” “That would be nice.” “But you should probably keep at it, keep your hours up. Don’t let them overlook you for a promotion again. This project should make you a shoe-in if you stand up for yourself.” Stand up for yourself. Good advice. “What aren’t you telling me? About my mother?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But she did. Breeze felt it. Something was wrong. She’d been calling her parents the entire trip, and they never answered or returned her calls. “Focus on work. It’s all you can control.”
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“Something is going on. I want you to clue me in.” “It’s not my place.” “Like hell it isn’t.” Breeze took a deep breath, adrenaline coursing through her body. “What’s going on?” “There’s nothing you can do about it, so there’s no need to worry. You’re done in a few days, right?” “I fly home tomorrow night, after the launch party.” “Call your mother when you get in.” “She’s not returning my calls.” “Breeze, get on the plane, concentrate on making this project a showcase for your hard work. Earn your promotion.” The sinking feeling in her stomach intensified, knotting and twisting until she wanted to scream. It was bad, whatever it was, so bad no one wanted her to know. “Do I need to come home? I mean, should I see them in person? Is it that bad?” “Of course not. You’re just being dramatic. Though if you want to visit your parents, I know Rachel would love the help.” “Is she sick?” Breeze swallowed hard, her throat burning, eyes heavy. “Stop it now. You don’t have time for this. Your mother is in perfect health. There’s nothing you can do.” “But…” But what exactly? “I’m sure whatever it is is better than what’s running through my mind. Please tell me.” “It’s not my place. And there’s nothing for you to worry about. Now get on that plane, get to work and make us all proud.” Breeze took a deep breath and ended the call with her grandmother. Her hands shook as she dialed again, a plan forming. She stared out the window,
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watching the plane she’d be boarding any minute to wing her way back to Los Angeles and Logan. Tomorrow real life began. And choices needed to be made. A balance she didn’t know how to find on her own. She waited all four rings until her parents’ machine clicked on, and didn’t have to fake the tears as she uttered the words sure to make them finally acknowledge her. “You’re a very eloquent speaker.” Judy sipped her white wine spritzer and stared out at the crowd. “Thank you.” Breeze resisted the urge to check her phone again. “Nitrous thinks so too. What have they offered you?” Judy kept her eyes on the crowd as if she hadn’t just crossed the line. “Excuse me?” No way could they know about the offer Logan had delivered. She hadn’t even called to discuss it with the retail director. “Don’t be coy, Breeze. They’ve made it known they’re very happy with your performance. They’ve followed you around the country, I’m sure making lucrative offers. Unless—” Judy turned, staring so hard Breeze narrowed her eyes to keep the glare from burning her retinas, “—has Logan Chandler been following you or the project?” Dear God in heaven. “I don’t know what you mean.” Breeze forced a calm expression, the one she’d practiced in the mirror as a kid, the one that made her look exactly like her grandmother. She’d been avoiding Logan all night, not wanting to give him the opportunity to talk her out of what she planned to do. “Let’s not play games.”
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“Nitrous has hinted there could be positions available if I were interested, but they can’t give me my own department store. I want to be a district manager in five years.” She sipped her water, proud of the nonchalant tone she nailed. “We’ll work towards that. I’d like to offer you an amazing opportunity. Heading up our new stores program.” “New stores?” She’d helped open a dozen stores, having to be out of town for months at a time. “I don’t understand. Would I have a store manager position after an opening?” “Not yet. But eventually, when you’ve had some more experience.” Which meant they still thought she was too young. And nothing she could do would make her age overnight. A month ago she would have taken the assignment with a smile. But she’d matured, learned to look at her life as more than her job. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the kind of maturity Mendelssohn’s was after. “I’m glad you’re interested and won’t be giving your notice tomorrow.” “Of course not. I have ten days of comp time coming. I’d be crazy to quit now.” She smiled wide, scanning the room for a distraction. “You’re actually going to take the time off?” “I’m going to take a few days, get things in order. It was a long time to be gone.” She spotted Kellen Jackson, flanked by Logan. Not the best alternative, but it would work. “You’ve been away longer on new-store openings.” “Yes, but I had more than six hours to plan for those trips. And my grandmother could help with the day-to-day things like the mail.” “How is Daphne?” Judy and her grandmother had been good friends, until their friendly rivalry had gotten in the way.
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“Scouting her retirement community for her next traveling companion, I’m sure. Speaking of, do you think it would be totally unprofessional to ask Kellen to take a picture with me? It will drive Daphne crazy to find it on her e-mail tomorrow.” “A little, but with all the people taking photos with him today he’ll hardly notice. Come on,” Judy said, taking her elbow as Breeze dug in her purse for her cell phone. “If a picture of you with her fantasy boy toy will drive her crazy, then both of us in the shot will really make her twist.” Kellen didn’t mind at all as a passer-by snapped the photo with the digital camera on Breeze’s phone. Though she didn’t really pay much attention. Too much of her energy was caught up in the way Logan stared through her, his arms crossed against his broad chest, stretching his shirt across his shoulders. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need words. His body language was loud enough. Under the guise of e-mailing the picture, Breeze made for the veranda. She needed privacy and to check the message on her cell phone.
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Chapter Fourteen
She hadn’t checked in to the hotel where the launch party was being hosted, but here she was, in a sparkling blue dress the same color as her eyes. Never again would he go two weeks without seeing her. And the last week she’d been nearly impossible to get on the phone. Even today she was busy. He hadn’t seen an obvious opening as she chatted up the press, Judy the ever-present thorn in her side. “Who’s the girl?” Kellen asked, sipping his drink. Logan curled his toes in his shoes and arched an eyebrow. She looked great, but he didn’t like the intensity of Kellen’s stare as she snuck out of the party. “Breeze Cohen. She coordinated and trained the staff at Mendelssohn’s for the roll out.” “She’ll do.” Kellen drained his drink and clinked it against the glass-topped table. “For what?” “Me, tonight.” Kellen smoothed back his long hair, though it was held in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “I don’t think so.” “Why not? You already tagged her?” “She’s not like that. And besides, she has a boyfriend.” Though she seemed content to ignore him. “Not tonight.” “Kel, leave her alone. She’s here because she worked hard on the campaign.”
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“Then I need to thank her properly.” Kellen took a step and Logan grabbed him by the arm. “I said no.” He met Kellen’s steely gaze head on and wondered if he was as transparent as his friend. “Is she yours?” Logan didn’t move, didn’t blink. He couldn’t betray Breeze’s confidence, though a few words might save her from Kellen’s advances. “And you won’t tell me.” He forced a smile, wondering how far Kellen would push this. “She has a boyfriend. What about one of the models from earlier?” Logan searched the room, but for the life of him he couldn’t find one. “She’s yours, I can tell.” Kellen snatched a champagne glass from a passing waiter and drained it. “I know you, Logan. We’ve never had secrets before. The stories I could tell her about you.” “Kel, let it go.” He clenched his hands into fists. “Maybe I’ll ask her myself.” His laugh was low, sinister and wicked. Kellen stepped out of reach, crossing the room quickly. If Logan had two good feet he might have stayed on him. But the vice president of brand marketing stepped in his path. Logan forced a smile and kept one eye on the door. He couldn’t make a scene, or he’d lose Breeze for good. “You could have told me.” Breeze closed her eyes, choking on the California heat. “Breezy, we’ve just been so busy working on the clinic. It hurts when you don’t come home, and we thought it would be easier this way.” “Not telling me my parents are going to have their own wing at the hospital dedicated to them makes it easier? I was panicked today when I called. I thought one of you must be sick.”
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“The dedication is on Friday. Will you come?” “Mama, I’ve been traveling for almost a month. I’m not sure how much time I can take.” “See, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I can’t stand how you’ve let a job define who you are. Do you even dream anymore, Breezy?” “Mama, I’ll be there.” She bit her lip and shook her head. She needed to go back. To face them all and see where the scattered pieces of their relationship had landed. “I have a layover in Medford tonight. Can you meet me for a cup of tea?” “You’re coming home? Oh, baby, are you sick?” ”No, just confused out of my mind. And trying to do the right thing.” She made her goodbyes and rang off. “Trouble with your phone?” a deep voice rumbled behind her. Breeze spun, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “No, I’m fine.” “You don’t look fine.” Kellen Jackson stepped towards her. It was surreal, having someone she’d seen in magazines standing so close. “I am. I will be.” She nodded emphatically, shoving her phone into her purse. She had to be. She ran her fingers under her eyes to wipe away any mascara she might have smeared with her indulgent tears. “Was it your boyfriend?” “Boyfriend? No.” She shook her head. “Too bad.” He thumbed back to the party. “I told Logan how pretty I thought you were, and he told me not to bother making a play for you. Because you have a boyfriend.” “I see.” She didn’t have to force a smile. She could just picture Logan’s expression when he used that line. “Is it him?” Her face fell, her heart plummeting somewhere below her knees.
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“He didn’t say anything. But Logan and I go way back and I can smell fear on him.” “And what does he have to be afraid of?” She ran a hand through her hair, the clip she’d used to twist it into submission after her shower plunking to the ground. “Damn it.” She stooped to grab it, but he was there first. She took it from him, trying her best to reconfigure her curls without a mirror. “You missed one,” he said, stepping closer and pushing a wayward tendril behind her ear. He stayed there, his finger on her ear a bit longer than she was comfortable with. She flattened a hand against his chest to push him away. The door from the party pushed open, light and music alerting them to their company. “What the hell?” Logan yelled, pulling Kellen away by his shirt collar. Breeze watched as partygoers turned, watching the spectacle through the waning sliver of the open door. Until it closed with a thud. She closed her eyes against what they all must be thinking, assuming. “What is going on?” Logan stepped to her, so close she felt the anger emanating from him. “You’ve been avoiding me all night, and then I find you out here kissing him?” “Are you kidding me?” She stared up at the face of a stranger, his eyes wild and nostrils flared. This was not the Logan she knew, and not a side of him she cared to see. She stepped around him and walked to the door. The sneer on Kellen’s face made her wonder what this was really about, but she didn’t have time for curiosity. She needed to go do some re-con, try and think of an explanation. Maybe if she told them all Logan and Kellen were lovers she could save her career.
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Logan grabbed her arm as she reached for the door and whirled her around. She pulled at his fingers. “Let me go.” “Not until you tell me what you were thinking, letting him kiss you.” “He didn’t kiss me. Let go of my arm.” She shot the words at him, wanting to scream. She clenched her teeth so hard she thought her molars would crack. He dropped his grasp and she reached for the door again. He couldn’t let her get away, not yet. Not after what he’d seen. Her hair in disarray, her hands on him, their faces so close it looked like they had been kissing. He knew how far a little fame and glamour could go with a woman, had reaped the rewards himself when he’d played professionally. But Breeze? Did she really bend so easily? “Tell me what happened.” She pulled at the door and he pressed his hand against the top, keeping it shut. “Logan, I swear, if you don’t let me out of here now, I will never speak to you again.” “If you are making out with my best friend, then I don’t want to talk to you.” Her foot came down hard on his, making him pull his hand back and step away with a yelp. She opened the door and slipped inside the party before he could take a breath. “You’re in love with her.” Kellen sounded astonished and then began to laugh. Logan turned, completely at a loss for what to do next. Knocking Kellen around sounded real good. “Calm down, man. I didn’t touch her, I swear.” Kellen’s voice weakened, his eyes fixated on Logan’s fist frozen mere inches from his face. “If you’d told me, I wouldn’t have tried a thing. I don’t have a death wish.”
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Logan took a deep breath. “Did you kiss her?” “No. You wouldn’t tell me if you were with her, so I needed to find out for myself. You used to tell me everything. Now I only hear from you when it’s about business.” “I can’t tell anyone about her. And you can’t either. I mean it, Kel. She thinks she’ll get fired if her bosses find out.” “You can trust me, you know that. Since when do you let women get in the way of your friendships?” “Not women, her.” “Oh shit, you are in love with her. She’s into you too, right?” “I think so. But with the way I reacted when I saw you two just now, I may very well have ruined it.” “This isn’t exactly home.” Rachel Cohen clutched her cup of tea, grinning over the top at her daughter. “I know.” Breeze shook her head and looked around the airport coffee shop. “But I have a meeting tomorrow, so all I could work in was a stopover. Thanks for meeting me.” “You know if you need me, I’m always here.” “I’m still hurt about you and Dad not returning my calls.” “I’m sorry it hurt you. We were trying to spare ourselves. You’ve refused to come home for so many holidays and birthdays, we’ve stopped asking.” “I’ll be back for the dedication.” On the plane she’d decided it was time Mendelssohn’s started accommodating her for a change. She’d called and informed Glen she’d be taking all ten of her comp days. She could get her life in order. If she could figure out what she wanted.
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“Daddy will be so happy. Sky and River too. They’re both flying in. We miss you, Breeze.” He mother reached her hand across the table. “I worry about you working so hard. Giving up so much.” “Me too. I needed to see you because I have some decisions to make, and I don’t know what to do.” Her voice shook and she took a deep breath. With her mother, she couldn’t maintain her professional persona. She saw right through it. “You want me to tell you what to do?” She nodded. “Mendelssohn’s wants me to head up new-store openings, but that means I’ll never be home. And there is a man who I want to be home for. But I’m not sure if he wants the same thing. I could take this other job and be closer to him. But then if things don’t work out I’ll wish I would have taken the offer from Mendelssohn’s.” “Run away, you mean?” “What?” “You’ll wish you would have run away again.” The silence stretched out between them. Breeze stared into her mother’s eyes, knowing she didn’t mean to be hurtful. She was the only person in the world who could speak the truth and Breeze would hear it. “What’s his name?” “Logan Chandler.” She couldn’t say it without smiling. Even though his jumping to conclusions at the party annoyed her to no end. “Bring Logan with you on Friday. Daddy, Sky and River can test him out for you.” Her lips quirked. “You’re not going to tell me what to do, are you?” “Do what makes you happy, Breezy.” “He wants kids.” Rachel’s brow furrowed. “You used to want a big family.”
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“I used to want a whole different life than the one I have. I’m not sure I can work and have a baby. And I don’t know who I am if I don’t work.” “I worked the whole time you were growing up.” Rachel sipped her tea. “But you hate how much Grandmother worked. And I have the same job.” “She used her job to compensate for her personal problems. To avoid having to face a failed relationship. She wasn’t a bad parent, just too distant for a small child. It’s all in where your priorities are.” “You think I could do it?” “I know you go after what you want. But you shouldn’t have a baby because it’s what you think he wants.” “I wouldn’t. And I’m thinking a few years down the road. He’s just the first person who’s made me think I could balance it all.” “Congratulations.” Kellen slid into the seat next to Logan on the corporate jet and handed him a magazine. “Smile or they’ll think you don’t want the job.” “Shut up.” He turned to the window, trying not to feel sorry for himself. “Seriously, knock it off. Your new boss was eyeing you as I came back from the bathroom.” Logan sat up and shoved the magazine in the seatback, reaching instead into his bag for a distraction. “Breeze will probably be waiting at the airport. After all the apologizing you’ve done, she’ll be milking it. Probably make you buy her a ring.” “Not her style.” He shook his head and opened the book on outdoor ponds he’d bought. “And I’ve been leaving messages on her cell phone. Which she could delete without even listening to.” “You said you were sorry, man. What more does she want?”
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“You don’t get it, Kel. I accused her of something she would never do. And I made a scene. I promised her I’d be discreet, that her career was safe.” If she lost her job over his behavior, he was sunk for sure. “I thought Nitrous wanted her to work for them. That’s what that woman, the one who nods her head constantly—” Kellen demonstrated, “—told me that was the plan.” Logan had to smile as Kellen’s head continued to bounce. “Stick to soccer. Your understanding of business leaves a lot to be desired.” “You’re a real downer.” “There’s more to life than having a good time.” “You did not just say that.” Kellen turned in his seat. “You, of all people. Mr. Live In The Moment. Seize the day. What has she done to you?” “Leave me alone.” He opened the book and flipped through the pages. What had she done to him indeed? Whatever it was, he needed more of it. “I need to think of a way out of this.” “By landscaping your yard? You’ve lost your touch. You need to take her out, impress her. You think arranging plants is going to blow her mind? Next thing you know you’ll be getting down on one knee and begging.” “If I thought that would work, I would.” He couldn’t think of a single thing to get himself out of this hole. The thought he might not get out made his chest constrict. “Seriously? You’d marry her? I mean, she’s hot, but marriage?” “You know what, I would marry her. But I’d settle for her speaking to me again.” She had to forgive him. If he told her now what he’d realized, she might think it a ploy to get her back.
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“Wow. No wonder you haven’t been as much fun lately. You’re turning into an old married guy. Next thing you know you’ll have a beer gut and be leaving corny outgoing messages on your answering machine.” He turned to Kellen and shook his head. “You don’t get it. Not that I blame you, because a month ago I didn’t get it myself. Breeze is fun to me. I get to see everything as fresh and exciting through her eyes. And she looks at me like I’m something special. Not because of soccer or work or out of pity about my folks. Just me.” “You should say that.” Kellen wore an expression Logan faintly remembered. The look he wore when he’d kept him awake after the crash, when he’d dragged him home after a drunken binge when his parents died. Kellen pulled a phone out of his pocket and handed it to Logan. “Say that and she’ll forgive you anything. Hell, I’ll marry you right now.” “Very funny. I already tried talking to her.” He laid the book open in his lap and wondered if she’d let her fish live in a pond. The tink-tink of Fred spitting rocks at the glass would annoy him, but he’d learn to tune it out if she wanted them in the house. “Did she say anything about the phone call you thought upset her?” Kellen opened his eyes from a half sleep. “Breeze? No, she said it was nothing.” He closed the book and crossed his arms over his chest. If it was bad, something to do with her family, she might need support. Or she might need space to deal with it on her own. He groaned, covering his face with his hands. Breeze knew something was wrong the minute Glen opened the door to the back office. Tension burst forth, invading every nook and cranny. And he wouldn’t even make eye contact with her.
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“What is it?” “Breeze, we’d like to have a word with you.” His brows pressed into a frown, creasing his forehead. We? “Of course.” The world began to spin and she felt herself propelled into the office on autopilot. Inside the room sat Nancy next to the telephone, the red light in the base indicating a conference call. “Michael and Judy, she’s here.” Nancy eyed Breeze as she sat down. Her store and district managers in the room, the regional vice president and vice president of stores on the phone. Whatever the reason for this ambush, it was big. Silence echoed through the room. The hum from the air-conditioning vents mingled with the buzz of the fluorescent lights. She cupped her hands on her lap to keep them from shaking and took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what’s going on.” She spoke slowly to keep her voice level. “Is something wrong with the Kicks promotion?” “Kicks
sales
are
great,
better
than
projected,”
Michael
replied.
“Mendelssohn’s appreciates all you did to make the campaign a success.” Breeze breathed a sigh of relief and let her shoulders drop. Nancy must be jealous, hence her sour demeanor. Maybe things were going to go better than she’d hoped. “I wanted to make sure you understand our position, and discuss where we go from here. Judy thinks your performance warrants a promotion to the storemanager level. However, Nancy has some concerns I think we all need to discuss.” Breeze smiled over the fear of being found out. She’d done it, become the youngest store manager in Mendelssohn’s history. Nancy could bring on her concerns. Breeze knew every argument against ageism by heart.
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“What kind of concerns?” she asked, meeting Nancy’s icy stare. “Regarding your behavior during the Kicks promotion.” Nancy’s tone was lilting and accusatory. “There are a few misunderstandings I hope you’ll be able to clear up,” Judy offered across the line. “How long have you known Logan Chandler?” Nancy narrowed her eyes. “Since the day of the best set.” Her stomach sank. “I have some questions about your expenses while you were away.” Nancy’s voice rang as she leaned back in her chair. “And?” Breeze prompted in the silence. If a hotel made some bogus charges on her card, she could clear that up with a phone call. “Breeze, what happened in Kentucky?” The air was quickly sucked from the room, the edges beginning to blur. Just what were they accusing her of? What did they know already? “I toured with the district manager who came up with the idea to focus the training on the footwear department managers. Seven stores. Two days.” “When I reviewed your expenses, I noticed you had no hotel charges for Kentucky.” Nancy tented her fingers, almost smiling. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that was the weekend you met with Logan Chandler. Do you think staying with him was appropriate, Breeze?” Panic coursed through her veins, yet she schooled her expression, quieted the adolescent voices chanting “Sleezy Breezy” in her head. These people might never respect her again, but she wasn’t the seventeen-year-old who ran from accusations. “Absolutely, it was completely appropriate. Nitrous policy actually.” The confident sound of her voice calmed her. “It was a suite with two bedrooms and a living area for us to meet in and discuss the status of the project. It made more
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sense than meeting in either of our hotel rooms, or renting a separate conference room.” She’d been suspicious of the argument from Logan, but it was the truth. Nancy rolled her eyes, obviously not buying the explanation. “When you travel for Mendelssohn’s, you represent the company.” Michael cleared his throat. “We want to make sure our business is represented professionally at all times.” “Of course,” Breeze answered with a nod. Nancy squared her shoulders. “And what about the launch party?” “What about it?” She forced a smile. Nancy wasn’t there, couldn’t know anything Judy hadn’t told her. “Did you share a room with Logan there as well?” “No, I flew out after the party. I’m not sure what you are getting at.” Breeze wanted to throw something, to yell. The bitch was jealous, plain as the crooked nose on her ruddy face. But to attack her professionally? To try and take away the promotion she’d worked so hard to earn? “By all accounts I did a great job with the Kicks roll out. I don’t see how any of this has any bearing on my performance.” “You don’t see how creating an emergency for the company with your boyfriend cost this company thousands of dollars?” Nancy shrieked, slamming her fist against the desk. “Excuse me?” Michael cleared his throat. “We’re just trying to get to the truth, Breeze. There’s concern this situation may have been elevated because of your relationship.” “Does anyone think we were ready for the Kicks promotion?” Turns out you could grow up, but high-school drama followed you everywhere. She grasped the arms of the chair until her knuckles were white hot.
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“Did you tell Logan that before he came to the best set?” Nancy sneered. “How could I? I’d never met him before that day, Nancy.” There was nothing more she dared say. They didn’t believe her. But they couldn’t prove she’d done anything wrong either. Not without risking a lawsuit and more bad publicity than they could afford. Nancy sat across from the desk, arms folded across her wide chest, glaring down her uneven nose. Breeze’s professional reputation lay shattered before her. She didn’t know which way to move without being sliced to pieces by the shards. If she told them her personal life was none of their business it was tantamount to admitting guilt. If she kept insisting her innocence, she sounded pathetic. “Where do we go from here?” Breeze asked the air. “I think under the circumstances it is best if you moved out of the district, separated yourself from the Nitrous incident.” Michael cleared his throat before continuing. Nancy smirked, snapping the folder in front of her shut. “There aren’t any openings currently, however—” “Are you trying to fire me based on conjecture and innuendo?” Breeze twisted in her seat, deciding to go for broke. She’d been in every district in the company. She could list three open store management positions, twice as many assistant openings. “No, of course not,” Judy said. “We think it would be best for you to start over in another district. We have two store managers set to take maternity leave soon. One in Texas, the other in Illinois. It will give you a chance to start over.” “I think before we discuss this further I should contact John DeSalvo.” The name of the attorney who’d negotiated her grandmother’s settlement raised Nancy’s thick eyebrows. Breeze stood, willing her legs not to shake. “I have ten
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comp days coming from my time on the Kicks project. Maybe we all need to step back and think about my future with this company.” Breeze nodded curtly and stepped from the room. She turned into her office, intending to collect her personal belongings. But there were none. “I think this is what you’re looking for.” She turned to find Nancy behind her, a lidded document box in hand. “You should take Judy up on her offer to fill in.” “Why? Because it will spare your job?” “I didn’t do anything wrong. You did.” “We’ll see how corporate feels about you after my lawyer gets through with them.” Breeze tugged the box away and sashayed out of the store not allowing a single tear to fall until she hit the freeway. By the time she got home she’d found the anger again, and displayed it as soon as John DeSalvo returned her call. He calmed her as best he could, promising a settlement and reminding her she was young and could work anywhere. But she didn’t want to be anywhere. Right now she wanted to be home. The only thing she wanted to take with her, but couldn’t, was the fish. They’d have to settle for the plants she’d bought and the promise she’d be back before they ran out of food. She thought of calling the fish guy and arranging for him to feed them, but she didn’t have a spare key. Logan had that. The invoice from the fish guy had Logan’s address for billing. He lived south of town, not far from her store. She wanted to call and have the billing info changed, but instead folded the invoice and slipped it into her purse. If she was gone too long, she could have the fish guy pick up the key from him. Get her key back without even having to speak to Logan.
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The five-hour drive to her parents’ house lay before her, giving her way too much time to think. Attention she couldn’t divert with reading or knitting. Forcing her to confront things she’d never cared to look at. Like how this felt exactly the same as when she’d made the trip in reverse. She’d loved her mother so much she’d wanted to copy her life. Marry the first man she was with and fill a home with babies and love. But that had shattered when the man she thought shared the dream had turned out to be nothing but a boy. She’d
followed
her
other
example,
her
hard-working,
successful
grandmother, mirroring her life and career. But that had exploded in just the same way. She didn’t know of another way to live, to be happy and fulfilled. Though she realized neither way of life had ever given her true satisfaction. What she needed was something to keep her from remembering the stolen moments when she had been happy, satisfied. But there were no distractions here. It was just her, the open road, a cell phone Logan insisted on calling every hour, and a radio determined to play every sappy love song ever recorded. Each new verse made her think differently about the relationship. Had her recalling moments she didn’t know she even remembered. Like how extreme her reaction had been to him smiling at a store clerk. She thought his smiles were only for her until that moment. Thinking he’d smiled at someone else had torn at her heart, but what if she’d caught them in a situation where it looked like they’d been kissing?
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Chapter Fifteen
This could very well blow up in her face. Humiliate her to no end. A disgrace she’d never live down. She pulled into the driveway, killed the engine and took a deep breath. She could do this. The house was dark, deserted, but she knew it would be. Without a key she couldn’t let herself in, so she walked around the yard to the back and opened the gate. A huge, black-bottomed pool consumed the backyard. She slipped off her sandals, stepped to the edge and dipped a toe in the warm water. The overcast sky held in the summer heat. Soon it would be pitch black, dark and moonless as the last strands of the sunset faded away. She turned and took in the pinks and oranges over the roof of the neighbor’s house. She needed to do that more, stop and look, listen and feel. Instead of always running. She’d deluded herself into thinking she’d been running to something, towards a career instead of running from her past. But no more. Walking over the lawn, she crossed the patio and spied the panel on the outside wall that turned on the lights. She flipped the switch, illuminating a single light by the back door, and pulled her shirt over her head. Breeze stepped out of her shorts and thought of diving in wearing her underwear. But plain white cotton hid nothing when wet, so she shucked it. A wicked thrill coursed through her. She stood completely naked. Outside. A privacy fence, waning daylight, and no one knowing where she was protected her, but still, she drank in the excitement before walking back to the edge of the pool.
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She stood at the shallow end, her hand on the bar by the steps. But she decided against going slow. No, now was a time for all or nothing. She sped to the far end and backed up, ran, jumped and cannonballed into the deep end. She surfaced with a shriek of laughter, then pushed out and tried it again. Childish and messy, but so much fun. And she needed to have more fun, like work for a company that mandated five-day work weeks and set vacation time. The last time her cell phone had rung while she’d been in the car, she’d seen Nitrous on the display and given in. But it hadn’t been Logan. It had been the director of US retail. She’d pulled over and had the best conversation about her career. Talking had helped her focus on what she really wanted to accomplish, not for her resume but for herself. Nitrous had even agreed to the position she’d chosen, managing the flagship Nitrous World store in downtown Portland. A huge store that tourists flocked to, with more sales floor footage than any Mendelssohn’s. Accepting Mendelssohn’s offer would be like leaving with her tail between her legs. Rumors might be forgotten for a while, but always resurfaced at inopportune times. And moving would mean abandoning all hope of fixing things with her family, and Logan. She flipped onto her back and kicked the length of the pool. How she’d missed having a pool. As a kid, she’d bounded out of the house each morning and gone for a swim. In the summer anyway. “Breeze?” a voice warbled by the water. She started at the sound, hiding under the water and looking back towards the house. Seeing Logan, she relaxed her arms. There wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t seen. And in the twilight there couldn’t be much he could make out anyway.
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For Kicks
“Too late. I have a mental picture of it.” He stepped to the edge of the pool, toed off his Kicks and reached for the hem of his shirt. “I came home to shower because I thought you weren’t off work yet. I was going to sit on your steps until you came home.” “Wait a minute.” Breeze treaded to a shallow spot where she could stand, only her head visible above the waterline. “We need to talk, and if you get in here we won’t be talking.” He pulled his shirt over his head anyway, the muscles rippling as he tossed it on the grass. “I’m all for not talking. I open my mouth and become an ass.” “No argument here. I got your message. I’d already left for Ashland, but I turned back around.” He stood still, probably trying to figure out which of the dozen messages she referred to. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never react that way again.” “I know.” She stepped carefully to the edge of the pool, the water pulling at her body with every slow movement. “You know what it made me think of? Remember the airport when I freaked out because you smiled at someone else?” A grin played at his lips and he nodded. “It was because I didn’t know where we were going. If I’d been more secure I’d have handled it better.” “So now I’m obnoxious, jealous and insecure. So how is it I come home to find you in my pool, naked? Not that I’m complaining.” “I’m quitting Mendelssohn’s.” “You’re quitting? Why?” “Nancy realized we shared a room in Kentucky, and wasn’t too keen on having someone like me in her district. I think she was a little jealous.” Breeze smiled, thinking of Nancy’s innuendo. That really was the reason. Nancy had
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wanted Logan from the beginning. Well, she couldn’t have him. “My only other option is to leave the state and work in a different store.” “Someone like you? They don’t deserve to have you work there at all. I can’t believe they’d disrespect you like that.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know how much that job meant to you. But you can work for Nitrous. The retail team is really impressed by you.” “I know. Arranged it already. I start on the first. So does Anthony, which will really put Nancy in a twist since she’ll be down two managers going into the busiest time of year.” She moved so her shoulders were out of the water and reached for the edge of the pool. “I even discussed fraternizing policies with my new boss.” “I got the job with brand marketing. I’m out of the retail side completely.” “That’s the argument you want to make? I expected more from you.” Don’t stop chasing me just because I’ve stopped running. “More?” “Yes, I need more.” She took a deep breath and reminded herself he might not have had time to come to the same realizations she had. Yet. “Can you take a few days off?” “I guess so. I need to use a week of vacation time before I transition to the new position.” “Okay. Lose the pants.” She pressed her toes to the wall of the pool and pushed off, propelling herself backwards. She stopped at the far side, watching him strip. The ache between her thighs deepened. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but I like it.” He tossed his clothes onto the lawn and stepped to the deep end of the pool. “Don’t get in yet.” “Then why am I naked?” His smile was infectious.
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For Kicks
“I like to look at you. And I’m doing a little experiment. How do you feel about me?” “At the moment? Carnal.” “Hmm. Try again.” And please, don’t get it wrong this time. “Grateful, because I think you’re forgiving me. Relieved, because thinking you might not was killing me.” “Why?” She bit her lip, rethinking her plan. She’d been so sure this would go her way. Well, not sure exactly, but she needed to know. He dove into the pool. So fast and smooth the water barely rippled. She gasped as his warm hands encircled her waist and he surfaced inches from her, tipping his head back so the water ran off. “I’m missing my window here. I can feel it. What do you want me to say?” “I love you.” Her whispered words tugged at her heart. “Yeah?” He pulled her closer, a slow smile playing on his lips. “That’s what I want you to say. You’ve said it before, but that was during sex and you were half out of your mind. That’s where I want us to be going.” She pulled the inside of her cheek between her teeth and studied his face. He didn’t flinch. “Out of our minds?” “Forget it. I obviously read you wrong.” She pushed at him, trying to break free. “You think so?” He backed her against the wall of the pool, pulled her so close her arms were pinned to her sides. With him this close she couldn’t even get enough leverage for a good kick. “Stop squirming. Sometimes being with you is like trying to herd cats.” He squeezed so tight she could barely breathe.
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She forced herself to still and he relaxed his grip, tilting her chin up with his hand so she couldn’t help but look into his eyes, his eyelashes thick with water. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I thought maybe that’s why you were always trying so hard.” She took a deep breath and refocused. She wasn’t running anymore. “It’s okay if you’re not there yet. If it’s my turn to wait.” “I love you. Now say it again.” She grinned, relieved to hear the words. “I love you.” She stuck out her tongue for good measure. He took it as an invitation, sealing his mouth over hers and pressing her legs apart with his muscular thigh. His kiss trailed down her throat, his hands dripping down her body. “See? I told you this would happen. And I’m not done talking.” “So talk.” He spoke without looking up or stopping his explorations. “I have to go home.” “Stay here. I made room for the fish.” “Not the condo home. Ashland home. Wait a minute, you made room for my fish?” His head popped up, his expression serious. “Is everyone okay? Did you finally get a hold of them?” She nodded. “I rerouted my flight so I had a layover there and met with my mom. My parents are designing a new birthing center adjacent to the hospital. It’s named for them and has areas for some of their passions like HypnoBirthing and family-laboring rooms. They didn’t want me to say I wasn’t coming to the opening, so they decided not to tell me about it at all.” “Ouch.” “Thank you. They should have at least told me, right?” “Right. But you have to go to the opening.”
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For Kicks
“I know. You busy on Friday?” “Yeah? You want me to go with you?” He pulled her close again. “Let’s go down early, go to a play, spend some time with your family.” “What if I got tickets to all the plays? What would you do for me then?” He lifted one of her legs, grinding his length against her as he kissed her neck. “Slow down, we have to be careful or we’ll end up using the Cohen birthing center instead of just visiting. And I’m not getting pregnant before we’re married. I’m old-fashioned that way.” “Do you want to have kids?” The lights from the pool reflected in his eyes as darkness closed in around them. As if the whole world teetered on one question. Well, two. “It depends. Will you marry me?” “You cheater.” He smiled wide. “I’m supposed to do that, Miss OldFashioned.” “Women do crazy things when they’re in love. Like get naked and jump into pools.” “Thank God it was my pool you found.” He cupped her face in his hands. “The last time we talked about kids you said you didn’t think you should. Are you just trying to tell me what I want to hear?” “I’m not my grandmother. And Nitrous is different. Twelve weeks of maternity leave and on-site daycare. Plus you get six weeks of paternity leave. If you want.” “I want. When did you learn all that?” “When I was negotiating managing the Nitrous World store downtown. And if I’m already married when I start, we won’t have to worry about fraternization rules, no matter how lax.”
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“Wow. Here you’ve really thought this out. I thought maybe I was rubbing off on you and you were being impulsive. Where’s my ring?” He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. Breeze blinked, unsure how to respond. “You can’t call it a proposal without a ring.” He took her hand and led her up the steps and out of the pool, the warm night air caressing her skin. “And I’m not going to have you telling our kids you proposed to me. No way.” He stooped to gather clothes in one hand as they made their way back into the house. He pushed open the sliding glass door and pulled her inside. No lights were on, but she could make out the outlines of the counter and island in the kitchen from the blue glow of an octagonal aquarium in the next room. An empty aquarium as far as she could tell. Had he really made room for her in his home? Maybe she and her careful planning were rubbing off on him too. She hadn’t expected to propose when she came here. Only get him to agree to go home with her and meet her parents. The rest was her heart talking, not her head. Good thing he didn’t seem to mind a bit. “Stay here.” He turned and sprinted through the house. “Logan, I’m dripping!” she called, but he didn’t respond. She took a deep breath, steadying herself to peer about the room for a lamp. Naked in the dark was one thing, but naked under fluorescents in the kitchen? Terrifying. “Okay.” He ran back into the room, breathing hard. “No towel?” She placed a hand on her hip and pouted. “No, I like you wet.” He sank down on one knee at her feet and her mouth went dry. He held out a small wooden box and grinned, breathing even faster than before. “So there is a little story with this.”
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For Kicks
“There is?” Now was not the time for stories and his continual barrage of presents. They were both naked, bare, with nothing to protect them from the question she’d asked outside. “When my great-grandfather went into the war, he had no money. But he thought if he left, my great-grandmother would marry someone else. So he sold everything he had, everything and bought these.” He uncapped the box. Inside on a white satin pillow sat two gold rings. “They used them when they got married, but when he got back she made him buy her one with more than a flake for a diamond. “It’s become a tradition to use it for the proposal and the wedding, and then you can pick out your own.” “That is beautiful.” She wiped a tear from her cheek, trying not to let emotion overrun her. “I always thought so. Never thought I’d use it though. I never imagined there was someone worse at sitting still than me. Someone who would look out for my heart the way you do.” He took her hand, her left hand, and kissed her ring finger. “Marry me. Please.” “You cheated. You knew my answer before you asked.” She wiggled her finger. “It’s still nice to hear the words.” “I’ll marry you.” She choked on a sob as he slid the ring on her finger. She sank to her knees and held on tight. “This is the story you tell the kids. Not jumping naked into my pool. Especially if we have girls.” “No, I tell them the truth. You go after what you want.”
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About the Author
By day, Jenna is faster than a speeding toddler, stronger than a stubborn husband, able to leap tall Lego structures in a single bound…but by night, while the family sleeps she writes romance novels where no one ever has to scoop up after the dog, change diapers, clip coupons, drive carpool, do laundry, mop floors, get silly putty out of hair, vacuum, empty the vacuum bag (gross!), exercise, count calories, apply Band-Aids, clean up puke…wait, where was this going? Oh, Jenna writes romance because it is glamorous. Just ask the dog. Check out what Jenna is up to on her website www.jennabayleyburke.com or blog jennabayley-burke.blogspot.com.
Look for these titles by Jenna Bayley-Burke
Now Available: Her Cinderella Complex Par For the Course Compromising Positions Pride and Passion Private Scandal
He’ll let her have control…until he’s ready to make his move.
Pride and Passion
© 2010 Jenna Bayley-Burke The only things Lily Harris inherits after her father’s untimely death are debt, scandal and loneliness. She doesn’t protest when her father’s business partner, Jake Tolliver, steps up to help with the mess she finds herself in—until Jake reveals the last promise he made to her father. Jake may be as compelling to look at as a marble statue—and stir a frighteningly powerful desire within her—but no way will Lily agree to be his socially acceptable bride while he continues to bed his string of beautiful women—not without getting him to agree to a deal of her own first. With a well-earned reputation as a feral hunter who goes after what he wants, Jake has his sights set on Lily, and her lack of options puts her right where he’s wanted her from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Jake’s not above making Lily think she’s having it her way if that’s what it’ll take to have his way in the end. But once he grows tired of playing beast to her beauty, he’s not above changing the rules of the game until they’re both playing for the same prize. Warning: This title contains a hero used to getting what he wants, a heroine determined not to give in to him, some indecent proposals, a fair amount of pride, and enough passion to burn up everyone’s control. Enjoy the following excerpt for Pride and Passion: He made his way through the dark house without turning on any lights. The full moon provided just enough illumination to keep from bumping into things
on his way to the kitchen. He pushed open the door and reached for the light switch, flicking it on. Lily stood in front of the refrigerator, a carton of milk in her hand, at least until she spied him and dropped it with a gasp. His eyes widened at the sight of Lily in a pale pink nightie, her golden hair loose about her shoulders. The light material dipped low between her full breasts, delicately revealed the curve of her hips, and gave an alluring view of her bare thighs. She wasn’t so mesmerized. She cursed, then reached for a towel on the counter and bent low to clean up the spill. Jake pulled his libido back in check and moved to help her. He took the towel from her and she stood. He had to bite back a groan at how the hem of her nightie came right into his line of sight. “I’m sorry,” Lily said, walking around him and returning with another towel. “I didn’t expect anyone.” “Obviously.” He finished the task and stood, enjoying the way her chest hitched with each breath as he looked down at her. “What are you doing down here?” “Having a glass of milk, or trying to anyway. That’s what I do when I can’t sleep.” She kept her gaze locked on his, except for fleeting moments when it dropped to his bare chest. He grinned, glad he wasn’t the only one hyper-aware after midnight. “That’s because you sleep alone.” Her cheeks pinked, but she recovered quickly, narrowing her eyes. “You know, I think you may be right. It’s time I find someone willing to marry the penniless virgin and cure her insomnia.” She tried to walk past him, but he caught her arm, turned her around and pulled her flush against him. “Try it, and you’ll find my patience exhausted quickly.”
“While you expect me to live a life in perpetual understanding of your need to go through mistresses faster than socks.” She tried to shake off his hold, but he pulled her closer. “I’ve never claimed to be a saint. But I’m not going to spend my life feeding into your insecurity. I want you, only you, and have from the moment I saw you. “I watched you, this golden angel gliding across a room, and I wanted you to be looking for me, not one of those worthless idiots you dated. We hadn’t even met, and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Maybe I did use your father to get closer to you. It seemed kismet that we were in the same industry. Will became my friend, but he became my partner because of you. I had no other choice. I had to protect you somehow, and you never would have looked twice at me had I not thrown myself in your way at every opportunity.” “You’ve been watching me?” Her haughty tone cut him to the quick. He was never going to be enough for her, never going to measure up to the vapid boys always trailing after her simply because he hadn’t lived their life. “And you’ve been watching me, wondering what it would be like if you were only brave enough to step outside your perfect world for a minute and indulge in all I can offer you.” He took a step forward, moving them both until she was backed up against the kitchen table. “What do you think you’re doing?” Her eyes flashed with an emotion he hadn’t seen in her yet. True fear, or excitement? “What you’ve wanted me to do since you first started watching me. You think there’s something beneath what the world sees. Maybe it’s time I show you what that is.”
The last thing she needs is a hero…
Off the Clock
© 2011 Donna Alward First Responders, Book 1 Paramedic Gabe Brennan’s job is saving lives. When he witnesses an accident and rushes in to help, the victim brings back memories of the night that marked him forever. The night he almost couldn’t save his best friend, Brandon. Brandon’s sister is in the car. She’s pregnant. And his longing for her is just as sharp as ever. Carly’s never been so glad to see a friendly face. Gabe’s gallant rescue—and the gentle kiss he bestows upon her at the hospital—resurrect feelings she buried long ago. Having just closed the book on a crumbling marriage, she’s not too keen on opening herself up to hurt again. Not even for the one man who’s always seemed to be there when she needed him most. Gabe knows he shouldn’t be falling for Carly, especially since she insists she’s off the market. But the chemistry still simmering between them after all these years is no accident. Now all he has to do is convince her she belongs in the empty space he’s always held open for her. The one next to his heart… Warnings: Contents—and paramedic hero—may be too hot to handle! Enjoy the following excerpt for Off the Clock: Now he had a chance and he didn’t want to ruin it. She was too important for that, too special. He was smart enough to know that she was overwhelmed right now with adjusting to parenthood. Not just being a parent, but a single parent. Now it was Carly who needed time, and he’d give it to her. He stuck the spoon in his mouth, trying to divert his thoughts.
But it was no use. It was why he’d stayed away the last few times he’d mowed her grass. He knew what he wanted. And it was too important to push. Not now. “What are you thinking, Mr. Serious?” Carly opened her eyes. “It looks as though you’re pondering the world’s problems.” Not the world’s, just his. He needed to take it slowly. He’d known Carly for so long that the idea of wooing her seemed funny. It also gave him a kind of strange, jumped-up feeling. Some might call it anticipation. He wanted her so much he ached. But it wasn’t a matter of slaking his thirst for her and letting go. It wasn’t anticipation. Gabe called it being scared to death of screwing up. “Not much.” She laughed a little. “It has to be something. You need to lighten up.” “I don’t know what to say.” “You could start with why you’ve been avoiding me.” He put down his gelato cup. “I haven’t.” Nathan’s eyes had opened and Carly rocked the carrier seat lightly with her foot. “Sure you have. You haven’t even stopped in to say hello lately.” “I was busy,” he said, knowing it sounded like a paltry excuse. Maybe he had been avoiding her, but only because he wanted to be with her, not the opposite. But how could he possibly explain that without putting any pressure on her? “It doesn’t matter. I know I’m not the best company these days. I always end up with something on my shirt and my house generally looks like a tornado blew through it. Who knew one tiny baby could cause so much havoc?” Even with mystery stains and messy hair she was the most beautiful woman he knew. And again he bit his tongue, knowing his compliment would be unwelcome. “You think I stayed away because of some spit-up and dust
bunnies?” He crossed his ankle over his knee and put an arm along the back of the bench. “Believe me, that’s not the reason.” “Then what is?” Why had he responded at all? Now she was neatly boxing him in to a genuine answer and he wasn’t sure what to say. He looked out over the fields below them and watched an eagle catch a draft of wind, gliding on the current. Maybe the truth was best. “To give you space.” “Space?” “You said it yourself, Carly. You have enough to deal with without me hanging around. I know how much the divorce must have hurt you. I know this isn’t how you expected your life to be. You’re adjusting to a lot. I wanted to give you room to do that. A little yard work—that’s just my way of giving a little helping hand to a friend. No strings.” It sounded perfectly reasonable when he put it that way, didn’t it? And it was a complete and utter lie. What he knew for sure was that if he’d gone in to see her—again—he’d end up kissing her. Wanting to take her to bed. And probably ruining everything in the process.
