Logan (Carolina Reapers #4) Page 4

  Silence fell over the table for a long minute.

  “Not all women are the same.” The gruff comment came from Cannon. “I can tell you Delaney isn’t someone you’d have to worry about that with.”

  “No, but she flat-out told me she wouldn’t ever want anything to do with a wanna-be-celebrity athlete.”

  “Och, well, you’re not exactly a wanna-be, if that changes anything,” Connell replied with a scrunched face. “Though what you are might be even worse.”

  “Exactly. Look, I just want a friend who isn’t influenced by all the hype and the money and the influence. Is that so bad?”

  “No,” Lukas answered. “If you’re not dating, and you’re just friends, then I get it.”

  “Even if he was dating, I think it’s allowed,” Axel added. “We all learn things about our spouses the longer we’re together. That can just be something she learns as you trust her. Trust isn’t something that you just hand out. It’s earned. She has to earn it.”

  “But have you lied to her?” Nathan asked. “Because that would be fucked up.”

  “No!” I cleared my throat. “No. I haven’t lied to her. I’ve just omitted the facts.”

  They all nodded.

  “Then I—” Lukas started.

  “There you are!” a bright, bubbly voice called from behind Sawyer, and my stomach twisted and sank. “Baby, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

  I looked up and saw Blaire, made-up and glossed over like a damned magazine spread, smiling back at me with her white veneers.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Echo shouted from behind the bar.

  Fuck me, at nine months pregnant, Echo couldn’t exactly afford to get worked up. I stood from my seat at the end of the booth and moved toward the plastic, fake, witch of a woman I’d dated for months.

  The chimes sounded on the door, but I didn’t bother to look at who’d just walked in.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” I told her. “You need to get out.”

  “Before I fucking make you!” Echo seethed, but Sawyer had already moved to intercept his fiancée.

  “Please.” Blaire put up both her hands like she was under surrender, her cell phone in one. “It’s been months, Logan. Can’t we talk? I miss you.”

  “You miss his followers,” Langley scoffed as she came to stand beside Echo.

  “Stay out of it,” Blaire snapped at Axel’s wife. “This has nothing to do with you.” She turned her eyes back on me and put on her best sad face. “Please, Logan. Just give me a minute.”

  “No.” God, why hadn’t I seen her for what she was while I was with her? Was I so blinded by the pretty face that I’d ignored the decay in her soul?

  “I swear to God, if you don’t get the fuck out of my bar—” Echo started shouting.

  “Honey, it’s not good for the baby to get all worked up—” Sawyer beseeched.

  “It’s not good for her health to stay there!” Echo jabbed her finger toward Blaire.

  “I just miss you!” Blaire cried out, a tear rolling down her face. Just one, though. She wouldn’t want to overdo it. “Please, Logan. I love you!”

  “You little—” Echo moved out of Sawyer’s arms, but a petite blonde stepped in front of her and faced Blaire.

  “I’m so very sorry, but I don’t think we were ever properly introduced while you were dating Logan,” Persephone, the head of the Reaper Charitable Foundation, said in a sweet southern drawl.

  “Oh,” Blaire perked up at the sight of the little blonde who pretty much ran society in Charleston. “I’m so sorry I was so rude to you when I saw you last. I was just so heartbroken over Logan, you understand. God, you have like… half a million followers.”

  Persephone blinked, but that was the only hint that she was surprised. “Something like that, yes. Now, as I was saying—”

  “Of course! I’m Blaire—”

  “No, no,” Persephone interrupted with a smile, “I didn’t say we were going to be properly introduced, just that we weren’t during those unfortunate months that you used Logan, and then turned that viper tongue on my friends and me.”

  Blaire’s jaw dropped.

  “Now, you’re upsetting Echo, and we just can’t have that, seeing as she’s due any moment now. So we’d all appreciate it if you’d just turn right around and leave the same way you came in.” She motioned toward the door, never once letting her smile slip.

  Blaire rapidly recovered. “I really think we’d be great friends. You know, we’re the same age, right? You’re twenty-three. Just graduated from Yale?”

  “Well, isn’t it lovely that you know that. Now, I really do have to insist that you leave.”

  “Wait! Can I at least get a picture with you?” Blaire moved toward Persephone only to find her path blocked by a very large, very unimpressed Cannon.

  “Oh, for God’s sake. Move. I can fight my own battles, you know.” Persephone stepped around Cannon, shooting him a glare. It wasn’t exactly the first time Cannon had put himself between Persephone and Blaire.

  “Go,” Annabelle, whispered in my ear. “Otherwise she’ll trap you in the parking lot. We’ve got this. Go.”

  “I’m not running away from her,” I hissed.

  “Do it for Echo. Blaire’s going to put her blood pressure through the roof.”

  I nodded. If I left, Blaire would have no reason to stay.

  With Blaire’s back to me, I made my way toward the door.

  “No, you may not have a picture, and I’m really not above asking these boys to take out the trash,” Persephone’s voice followed me out of the bar.

  I sucked in a breath of sweet, non-Blaire-air, and slid behind the wheel. It took exactly eighteen minutes to get to the library, park my car, and walk in the back door.

  Maybe it was ludicrous that I’d come here instead of the gated safety of Reaper Village—the nicknamed neighborhood most of us lived in, but after seeing that cesspit of a woman, I’d found myself here.

  The quiet immediately washed over me, taking some of the noise left in my head from Blaire’s intrusion.

  It was almost half-past six, and the library was busy as I walked toward the circulation desk. There was a blonde behind the desk with a tag that read “volunteer” on her shirt.

  “Hi, I was hoping you could tell me where Delaney is?” I asked softly.

  She looked at me and then grinned. “Oh! She told me you’d be coming!”

  “She did?” My brow bunched together.

  “Absolutely! Follow me.” She nodded enthusiastically and motioned for me to follow, so I did.

  We passed the doors that led to the southern wing. I really needed to see what I could do to help Delaney out with that. Then the volunteer led me up the stairs to the second floor, past the stacks Cannon had been looking through a couple of weeks ago and toward the corner, where a door stood open.

  She snatched something off the table just before the door and pressed it into my hands. “Right. So they’re just through here. And this is the one that the moms chose. Have fun!”

  “Moms?” I questioned as the girl strode into the room ahead of me.

  I followed, glancing down at—why the fuck had she handed me a children’s book?

  “He’s here!” the volunteer announced with excited hands.

  A cheer resounded, and I found myself staring down at least a thousand small children, all seated on a brightly colored carpet. Okay, maybe there weren’t really a thousand of them, but there were easily a couple dozen.

  All staring at me...and all I had to fend them off with was a book.

  “You can sit right here!” The volunteer pointed to the only adult-sized chair in the room, which sat facing that army of small people. “Are you guys ready for story hour?”

  The kids cheered.

  Oh, fuck my life.

  My ass hit the chair as I examined just how long the book was. Yep, that would be about an hour.

  I was on the verge of protesting—rea
ding aloud had never been my strong suit in school, but I looked up and saw a little girl toward the back with Down syndrome look up at me expectantly, and I couldn’t help but think of Kaitlynn. My little sister would smack me upside the back of the head if I walked out on these kids because I didn’t like reading aloud.

  “Okay, let’s get started,” I said to the group.

  And then I read.

  At some point during the hour, I’d seen Delaney walk in, but I was too busy concentrating on the words to pay too much attention. It was a fantasy about a pair of twins who had set off to battle a dragon, only to realize it was really their father, who’d been enchanted.

  “The end,” I finally said just a few minutes past the hour’s time limit, and the kids burst into applause and cheers.

  I grinned as Delaney walked over, clapping. Her sweater was cut straight across her collarbones, leaving a strip of skin bare before it gathered above her shoulders, and her skirt—

  I looked away before my thoughts got me in trouble.

  “I’m so glad you all came to story hour today!” Delaney told the children. “I’m so sorry that Mr. Lancaster couldn’t make it, but let’s all give a big hand to Mr. Ward!”

  Wait...the TV news anchor was supposed to read? Guess that explained the mix-up when I got to the desk.

  The kids clapped, and I exaggerated a bow.

  “You are a saint,” Delaney whispered in my ear, then smacked a kiss on my cheek. There was nothing coy or sexual about it, which was just as refreshing as it was frustrating as hell.

  “Ms. Collins?” One of the moms approached.

  “Give me just a second,” Delaney said to me and then turned toward the mom. “Hi, Mrs. Taylor. What can I help you with?”

  The pair walked off, and my eyes followed. I felt a tug on the bottom of my button-down shirt and changed my focus.

  A boy with big brown eyes looked up at me. “You’re Logan Ward, aren’t you?” he whispered.

  That’s when I noticed what he was wearing. A Reaper jersey. My Reaper jersey to be precise. God, how many times had I worn Blackhawk jerseys growing up in Chicago, and now this kid had my number on his back.

  “You are, right?” he urged.

  “If you promise not to tell, I’ll answer,” I said, dropping down so we were at the same eye level.

  “Can I tell my mom?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

  I looked over his shoulder to see a woman with the same eyes watching us carefully.

  “You can tell your mom. But only your mom. Sometimes people see me and get a little wacky.” I made a face.

  “It really is you!” he whispered but jumped a little.

  “Yeah, it’s me. But it’s not fair that you know my name when I don’t know yours.”

  “Ryan! I’m Ryan. Will you sign my jersey?” His eyes lit up.

  I glanced over at Delaney, whose back was to me. Well, I guess if she saw me, I wouldn’t be keeping that secret anymore, right? I was leaving it up to fate. Snatching a marker from the cup on the table to my left, I scrawled my name across the patch of white on the kid’s shoulder. “There you go.”

  “You’re awesome!” He lunged into my arms, and I caught him in a hug. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The kid grinned as he let me go, and then raced off to his mom.

  “Man, he really loved your story,” Delaney said with a laugh as I stood. “I looked over just in time to see him launch himself at you.”

  “It was a good book.” My heart slammed, both demanding I tell her the full truth and begging me to keep quiet a little longer so I could stay close to her.

  “So, Carla—” she pointed back to the volunteer as the room emptied, “—filled me in on what happened. I’m so sorry you got roped into this!” Her nose scrunched and her glasses slid, but she quickly pushed them back up her nose.

  “It was nothing,” I assured her.

  “Good, because you were super hot doing it. Definitely better looking than Lionel Lancaster, who had a toupee issue and canceled.” Her smile went straight to my head like I’d had four shots of tequila at the bar rather than a glass of water.

  “Super hot, huh?” I teased.

  “What? Friends are welcome to notice each other’s attractiveness. And besides, a girl is going to go all gooey for any man who sits and reads to a group full of children for an hour.”

  “Even Lionel Lancaster?”

  “Okay, maybe not every man. So are you going to tell me why you’re here? Or were you always planning on rescuing me from a room full of angry kids when story fiancée time had to be delivered by me again?” She tilted her head.

  “I just wanted to see you.” If we’d been dating, or even in the flirtation stage, I would have said something funny or forward, but instead, I’d given her the simple truth. Remarkable how much easier that was.

  “Oh!” Her eyebrows rose in surprise as her smile grew. “Well, I’m working until ten, but I could use some company while I file a cart full of books. Super exciting, I know.”

  “I’m in,” I answered.

  “Follow me.” She led me from the children’s reading room through rows of books on the second floor, and then took a smaller staircase that led to the third floor.

  “It’s all boring up here,” she told me as we reached the small, gray cart that held at least thirty books. “All reference materials. There’s hardly anyone ever up here, which is kind of why I like it. Give me space to think.”

  “You work in the quietest environment known to man without doing a solo mission to the moon, and you still need room to think?” I teased.

  “Hush and push the cart,” she chided, walking ahead of me. I quickly did as she ordered. “The library is busier than you’d imagine. And we only ask the patrons to be quiet, but trust me, they’re always talking to me. Always seeking out new books, explaining the loss of others, or just needing an ear.” She plucked the first book from her pile and slipped it into the stack.

  “It’s kind of soothing,” I admitted as we started walking again. “Usually I like noise. It drowns out the thoughts.”

  “Why would you want to drown them out?” she asked as we turned the corner. Damn, how big was this place?

  “They’re not always things I want to dwell on.”

  She turned to take another book but paused to look at me. “Logan, have you ever thought that maybe you’re dwelling on them because you never let them think through entirely?”

  My eyebrows lowered in confusion.

  “Maybe if you gave yourself a little time and quiet, the thoughts would work themselves out. They’re going to keep pounding at the door until you let them in.”

  She spun and filed that book before I could answer, which was a good thing since I didn’t really have a response to that.

  “What if they’re thoughts that I don’t want? Things that don’t deserve the space in my head?” I followed after her, pushing her little cart, doing my damndest to keep my eyes off her ass and failing miserably.

  “Well, they’re your thoughts, aren’t they? No one else is stuffing themselves inside your brain. Give them the attention they need, work out whatever is eating at you, and they’ll leave. Simple as that.” She snapped her fingers so softly that the noise was barely audible.

  “Not that easy.” We turned another corner, and she filed two more books.

  “You’ll never know if you don’t try,” she shrugged and led us back toward the far corner. Once we’d reached the tallest set of shelves, she took a behemoth of a book and rose on her tiptoes to file it. “Damn, I’m going to need the step—”

  I moved around the cart and took the book from her hands, easily reaching the empty slot she’d been trying for a second earlier. The book slid home with the soft, satisfying sound of canvas against canvas.

  “There we go,” I muttered, pushing it so it stayed level with the other covers.

  “Thank you.” Delaney’s words came out in a breathless rush.

/>   I lowered my arm as she turned toward me. God, she was close enough that I caught her scent. It was light—a little flowery, with lemon verbena, maybe? Whatever it was, I wanted closer.

  Our eyes locked, and her lips parted as if she had noticed just how close we were, too. Just how alone we were up here.

  She was inches from me and a foot from the bare wall. It would only take one step and a good grip, and I’d have her back against that wall. Her skirt would have to slide a little, but her thighs would wrap around my waist, and her arms would do the same at my neck.

  And then I’d kiss her. I’d know exactly how she tasted, or if her lips were really as soft as they’d felt against my cheek. I’d lock one hand under her ass to make sure she felt safe and supported, and I’d send the other into her hair. Shit, I could almost feel those auburn strands between my fingers.

  “Logan?” she questioned, shaking me free of the daydream.

  “Delaney.” My voice sounded like I’d swallowed sandpaper.

  Her gaze dropped to my lips, and my control frayed. Was she thinking about the same thing? No. She’d been the one to suggest that we be friends. She swayed forward slightly, and her breasts grazed my chest.

  I inhaled sharply, and she jumped a little, backing herself into the same wall I wanted to—

  “Just friends,” she squawked.

  My eyebrows rose for a swift second, but I got my features under control quickly. “Right,” I agreed.

  Her hands clenched and unclenched as her gaze flickered between my eyes and my mouth. “Just friends.” She was saying it more to herself than to me.

  “Just friends,” I echoed.

  She nodded, then slid sideways to skirt around me, back to the cart. “Right. I’m going to go file these in the shower—shelves! On the shelves! I’ll call you tomorrow? Sound good? Sounds great to me! I left a new book for you at the desk, so grab it on your way out! Bye!” She took the cart and nearly ran for the other end of the room, not that I blamed her.

  I stayed put for the same exact reason. Another minute next to her, and I was going to find myself in some serious fucking trouble.

  Attraction was one thing, but the blatant, consuming need that had struck me just then was something different. Needs were things you had to assuage.