Logan (Carolina Reapers #4) Read online

  Logan

  A Carolina Reapers Novel

  Samantha Whiskey

  Contents

  Also by Samantha Whiskey

  Now Available In Audio!

  1. Logan

  2. Delaney

  3. Logan

  4. Delaney

  5. Logan

  6. Delaney

  7. Logan

  8. Delaney

  9. Logan

  10. Delaney

  11. Logan

  12. Delaney

  13. Logan

  14. Delaney

  15. Logan

  16. Delaney

  17. Logan

  18. Delaney

  19. Logan

  20. Delaney

  21. Logan

  Epilogue

  Connect With Me!

  Grinder Sneak Peek

  Grinder

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2019 by Samantha Whiskey, LLC All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Also by Samantha Whiskey

  The Seattle Sharks Series:

  Grinder

  Enforcer

  Winger

  Rookie

  Blocker

  Skater

  Bruiser

  Wheeler

  Defender

  The Carolina Reapers Series:

  Axel

  Sawyer

  Connell

  Logan

  A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance:

  The Crown

  The Throne

  Now Available In Audio!

  Grinder

  Enforcer

  Winger

  Rookie

  Let the Seattle Sharks spice up your morning commute!

  To those who love every broken piece of our souls

  1

  Logan

  “Holy shit, do you think it’s a race?” Cannon Price gripped the passenger door handle of my R8 as I took the curve a little above the speed limit.

  “For being the fastest skater in the NHL, you’re kind of a chicken. You know that?” I shifted as we merged onto the highway.

  “If by chicken, you mean that I respect the laws of gravity, then sure, we’ll go with that.”

  “I like the speed.” That was an understatement. I was pretty quiet in every other area of my life, and I knew it. I wasn’t a huge fan of the parties and shit that everyone else seemed to like about the NHL lifestyle, either. But I wasn’t going to complain about the signing bonus that paid for this sweet little ride, either.

  “Remind me to drive next time,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  I grinned and floored it, zipping around a car on the right and sliding into the lane ahead of it.

  “If we’re late for the plane, Coach is going to kick you in the balls,” he reminded me as the Charleston skyline flew by.

  “You’re the one making us stop at the library. I’m just trying to make up for lost time.” The engine purred as I sped up, and everything else in my head stilled. There was a peace to be had when you drove this fast. There wasn’t a lot of room in your head for the other shit that usually filled it up.

  “We have an hour and a half. Chill. There’s the exit.” He lifted a very tatted up arm toward the offramp. “Watch—fuck me, Logan, I don’t want to die before we beat the shit out of North Carolina, okay?”

  A smile lifted the corners of my mouth as I cut across three lanes of traffic—safely, I might add. I might be a little reckless behind the wheel, but I always knew where the line was.

  “Turn right,” he muttered as I downshifted on the offramp.

  “Remind me why we’re going to the library at six o’clock in the morning? The sun is barely up, and you think you can pick up a new book?”

  “Because they were closed for New Year’s Day yesterday, and I need to—you know what? Just drive.”

  I turned where he told me, and sighed in frustration as we stopped at a red light. I hated stopping. Stopping gave you time to think. To regret.

  To dissect things you should have seen but didn’t because you were so desperate to ease the loneliness that you took the first fucking shred of affection someone showed you.

  “Don’t,” Cannon lectured.

  “Don’t what?” My hands gripped the wheel tighter.

  “You have the Blaire face on. Next left.” He nodded at the light another block up, and when ours turned green, I started forward only to slam on the brakes for an early morning jogger who wasn’t watching where the fuck he was going.

  “I don’t have a Blaire face,” I argued. “Fuck her, and fuck you for bringing her up.”

  He shook his head as I pulled in front of the library. “No, go up here and turn right so we can park in the back.”

  “You want to park in the back of the library?” I squinted against the rising sun as it streamed in between the buildings.

  “Did I stutter?”

  I put her in gear and took the R8 around the library like he said, parking a few spots away from a cherry red cabriolet. Cute.

  “You can come in, or you can stay here,” Cannon said as he opened my door and climbed out.

  He was like that—giving people choices without explaining himself. Guy never revealed more than he had to or let anyone in further than they needed to go.

  Curiosity got the best of me, and I hopped out of the R8. I smoothed my tie and clicked the lock button as I followed Cannon into the building. Coach always demanded that we fly in a suit. He didn’t care if we changed into comfortable clothes on the flight, but by God, it was a suit and tie to and from the airport every time.

  I caught the door before it shut on my face and stepped into the red brick building. It had been unlocked, so at least we weren’t going to get arrested for breaking into the library. I could just imagine Langley’s face if something like that hit the papers. Not that the head of Reaper PR would flinch, but she’d sure as hell laugh her ass off.

  The smell of aging books and dust filled my lungs, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

  “You can wait here or look around. Just give me about twenty minutes,” Cannon said over his shoulder as he walked away.

  “It’s dark!” I hissed after him, like speaking any louder might awaken whatever ghosts hung out in libraries after dark.

  He didn’t turn around, and with one turn to the right—toward a dim light I could see above the rows and rows of books, he disappeared.

  And left me alone with my thoughts. Awesome.

  I walked forward about ten feet and found the central corridor of the library. The circular table in the middle must have been the reference desk, but no one was there...referencing. Go figure, since it was six o’clock in the fucking morning.

  Cannon read like some people drank. I got that. It was probably a lot better than what he could be out doing, especially considering the reputation he had for getting his ass into trouble, but still. It was way too early for this shit.

  I looked over at the display table at the head of one of the rows and picked up a shiny hardcov
er book. “Marketing in the Social Media Age. Fuck marketing and fuck social media,” I muttered, putting the book back on the table with a thud.

  Social media was what got me here. Well, trusting a woman was what got me to whatever stage in my life this was, but it was pretty much the same thing. Maybe they’d used Blaire as source material in the book. They should have considering she knew how to work the system better than anyone I’ve ever met.

  She’d worked me, too.

  I hadn’t seen her coming, though. I should have. They warn every rookie to watch for the girls who are after your paycheck and your fame. I just hadn’t seen that she’d gotten her paycheck by exploiting our relationship online.

  A rustle sounded above me, and I backed up to see Cannon walking along the glass railing upstairs, thumbing through a book. “Are you almost done?” I asked.

  “Shhhh, it’s a fucking library,” he fired back.

  “There’s no one even here,” I whispered, then shook my head because again, there was no one here. Onto the next display table. “Finding Love—A Guide to Your Inner Self,” I read the title of the book aloud. “Yeah, no thank you. How about Avoiding Love at All Costs—A Guide to Saving Your Sanity.”

  I picked up the next book. “Unfuck Yourself. That’s much more my speed.”

  Book in hand, I walked toward the circulation desk—right, that’s what it was called. A book cart appeared to my right, followed by a woman—

  “Holy shit!” she shrieked.

  A book hurtled toward me, and I barely ducked in time.

  “Get out!” the woman yelled as the mass of dark hair on her head bounced.

  “I’m—” Damn, she was fast. I missed that one by a hair.

  I caught the next one in my empty hand.

  Her mouth dropped—a very nice mouth, under two large, blinking eyes framed by cat-eyed glasses. She looked about my age, if not a year or two younger than my twenty-five.

  “Truce?” I asked, a book in each hand.

  “Talk.” Her eyes narrowed, and she picked up an exceptionally large hardback and held it in a prime position to chuck my way.

  “He’s with me,” Cannon called over the railing. “Sorry, Delaney, I should have told you I was bringing someone.”

  Delaney.

  “I’m with him,” I assured her with a nod.

  “I don’t like surprises, Cannon,” she lectured the scariest bastard in the NHL, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.

  Holy shit, her voice had a deeper southern drawl than I’d heard around here. It was sweet, but a little raspy, like the way rock candy scraped over my tongue. Wait. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I seriously attracted to a stranger’s voice?

  “I know, and I’m sorry. We’re headed to the airport together, and I should have told him to stay in the car. I’ll be ready in about ten minutes if that’s cool with you?”

  “That’s fine. Take your time.”

  Cannon walked away, and I stared down the world’s best book-sniper. “You know, if book-tossing was an Olympic sport, you’d definitely medal.”

  “I don’t do sports.” She scoffed, but she put the book down.

  “Well, you have the arm for it.” I walked forward and gave her the book she’d thrown at me.

  “Thank you.” She took the book back. “Sorry I threw it at you, but…”

  “But it’s dark, and the perfect setting for a horror movie and I scared the shit out of you when you thought only Cannon was in here with you,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t blame you. I’m just impressed with your speed.”

  A smile flashed across her shadowed face. “I’m impressed with your reflexes.”

  “Yeah, well, that comes with…” being in the NHL. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it back. Why? Chances were she already knew, considering she appeared to know Cannon, but what if she didn’t?

  What if I met someone—anyone who didn’t know who I was or what I did for a living? Would that remove the rose-colored glasses people used when they looked at me? Could I just be Logan instead of Logan Ward, defenseman for the Stanley Cup-winning South Carolina Reapers?

  “Comes with…” her eyebrows rose in question.

  Right, I’d been talking. “Comes with the genetics,” I blurted out. “My dad played tennis in college.” Not a lie. Not exactly the truth, either, but still...not a lie.

  “Oh, okay then. I’m just going to tuck these last books into their place.”

  “Yeah, of course.” I turned and walked back to where the first two books had landed, then put Unfuck Yourself on the display table, and picked up the two rounds of paper ammunition. “Here you go,” I said as I put one back on her cart.

  “Thank you. Did you want to check something out while you’re here?” She turned and reached for the book I still held, and I saw her in the light for the first time.

  Speechless. I was...speechless. Her hair wasn’t just dark, it was auburn, with every color in it from mahogany to strands of bright red. Her skin looked incredibly soft and it was speckled with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

  But it was her eyes that sucker punched me in the gut. They were emerald green—the kind of green that usually took contacts to achieve, but something told me they were her natural color. Bright in the center and rimmed in a darker color, they sliced right through me and robbed me of every word that had been in my head.

  Her heart-shaped mouth pursed and her eyebrows—the same shade of auburn—drew together. “Mr….?”

  “Logan,” I managed to say. “My name is Logan.”

  “Well, Logan, did you want a book?”

  A slight tugging registered, but my brain didn’t put the pieces together.

  “I don’t think so.” I wasn’t sure, though. I wasn’t sure about anything when she looked at me like...like what? She wasn’t hitting on me, or praising my hockey skills, or asking me for an autograph. She was looking at me like some random guy who’d shown up in her library.

  Because that’s all I was to her.

  “Well, then do you think you want to give me this one back?” She tugged again lightly.

  “Sorry.” I released the book.

  “No problem.” She adjusted her glasses and walked down the row of books, then paused and bent over.

  I jerked my gaze away before my body could respond like my brain did to the thought of that ass. Were librarians allowed to have asses like that? Outside of porn movies?

  “Shut it off. Shut it off.” I muttered to my brain in a plea to stop the fantasy from playing out in my head.

  “That’s all done,” she said with a smile. “We have a few minutes before Cannon makes his choice. You sure I can’t recommend something?” She pushed her little book cart right by me and headed for the lit desk.

  “I’m not really a big reader,” I admitted, knowing that probably blew any shot I had of...what, dating this woman?

  I was the last person who needed to be in a relationship. Blaire and I had only been together for four months, and it had been three months since I’d ended it, but still. I wasn’t in any place to even think about someone else.

  “That just means no one’s ever given you the right book,” she said over her shoulder as she parked her cart next to the desk.

  “I just never really get into them.” I leaned on the wide expanse of counter on my side of the desk while she typed something on her computer.

  “I bet I can get you into one,” she challenged with a slight quirk in her lips.

  “Really.” I gave her a more than skeptical look.

  “Really,” she answered with a full-blown smile.

  Shit. I was in trouble. There was no guile or artifice in that smile. No practiced pose in the way her head tilted. She was simply, naturally, stunningly...beautiful.

  “What kind of movies do you like?” she asked, leaning on her section of the counter. Lucky for me, that blouse was buttoned up to her neck, so I couldn’t make an even bigger idiot of myself.

&nbsp
; “I don’t have a lot of time for movies, honestly. But I guess I like psychological ones, and maybe a little sci-fi? I like the ones that make me figure things out.”

  “Ahh, you don’t like the easy ones,” she noted with a narrow-eyed scan of my face. “Hmm. I think I might have something for you. Wait right here.”

  She walked out of the circular desk, but her small heels didn’t make a sound on the carpet. How ironic that I sought out noise to keep my brain busy, and this woman was surrounded by silence by choice.

  Her hips swayed as she walked down the long corridor, and I looked away. Fine, I was attracted to her. It’d be impossible not to be when she looked like that, and sounded like that, and smiled like that, and had a brain like...Ugh. Inconvenient—that’s what this was.

  Cannon walked back with Delaney, and I found myself leaning toward them to hear what they were saying, but I couldn’t.

  Once they came closer, their conversation caught me by surprise.

  “Did you like that twist?” she asked, straining to look up at him.

  Cannon was only an inch taller than I was, so maybe that’s what she looked like next to me, too.

  “That one caught me off guard,” he admitted as they approached. “Unlike—”

  “I told you that you’d figure that one out. Don’t you dare blame me.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Cannon came to stand beside me while Delaney scanned the two books he’d selected and put the one she’d chosen for me off to the side where I couldn’t see it.

  “Here you go. I know I don’t need to warn you about the due date since you’ll be back in here by Friday.”