“Oh my god,” I moaned as my eyelids drifted shut. “Logan, please.”
“Say yes, Thea, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“No,” I breathed, shivering as he dragged his tongue through my slit.
It had been four days since Logan had asked me to come back to New York with him, and we’d come out to my workshop after Charlie had fallen asleep. One kiss had led to two and now he was on his knees, his broad shoulders between my legs, forcing them apart. And I was sitting on the edge of my table, gripping the sides as he tormented me.
“Say yes.” He flicked his tongue over my clit twice, making me gasp. But instead of giving me what I needed, he pulled away and kissed the inside of my thighs.
“Logan,” I grumbled, opening my eyes to the ceiling.
He just chuckled against my skin, peppering kisses down to my knee.
I’d been so close. Again. Logan had been taking me right to the edge of an orgasm for what felt like hours, but every time I felt the tight pull in my lower belly, he’d back off until the shaking in my legs stopped.
My entire body felt like a rubber band ready to snap. I just needed a little bit more of his talented tongue and I’d get the shattering release I was craving.
“Say yes,” he commanded.
“No.”
He nipped at my knee, then stood. With the taste of me on his tongue, he ran it over my bottom lip. Between us, his hands unbuttoned his jeans to free his thick cock and roll on a condom.
“Say yes,” he whispered.
“No,” I breathed, scooting as close to the edge of the table as I could get. But before my sex could touch him, he jerked his hips away.
“Thea,” he warned. “Say it.”
I shook my head, trying to hide my smile.
The last four days had been a battle of wills. He kept asking me to come to New York with him. I kept saying no. I’d given the vacation idea a lot of thought and had already decided we’d go with him. Mostly so Charlie could meet her other family. But since messing with Logan was so much fun, I’d kept denying him.
Now he was denying me.
He fisted his cock to bring it closer, rubbing it up and down my folds. He spread my wetness onto the condom, then rolled up to my clit.
Over and over he worked the hard bud while his lips latched onto the skin of my neck, kissing up and down. With his free hand, he yanked down the collar of my tank top and dove into my bra, pushing it out of the way so he could knead my breast.
“Oh, god,” I hissed when he gave my nipple a wicked twist. The sensation shot straight to my core. “Don’t stop,” I begged. “Not this time.”
He stopped kissing me to speak in my ear. “Say yes and I won’t.”
With my eyes closed, I nodded. “Yes.”
His grin spread across my cheek right before his cock slammed home.
That was all it took. I cried out, writhing on the table as my orgasm pulsed around his cock.
“Fuck, Thea,” he groaned into my neck, staying rooted as I squeezed him tight.
The stars behind my eyes had barely cleared when his arms wrapped around my back and his hips began thrusting. With every one of his strokes, the table beneath me rocked and squeaked.
I don’t know if I had the longest orgasm of my life or if he triggered one after another, but by the time Logan shot his own release, I was completely limp in his arms.
“I’m dead,” I panted into his neck.
He held me upright, breathing heavy into my hair. “It just gets better.”
I hummed my agreement. He’d been fucking me senseless all week and it was the best time I’d had in years. Maybe ever. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, always sneaking touches and kisses when Charlie wasn’t looking. And after she was asleep, all bets were off.
He kissed my shoulder, then leaned back, holding me steady as I climbed off the table. When I nodded that I had my balance, he let me go to collect my bottoms, which were strewn on the ground. His knuckles brushed my skin as he carefully slid on my panties and shorts. Then he righted my bra and tank top, using a gentle touch that sent tingles down my spine.
“You don’t play fair, Mr. Kendrick.”
He tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them up. “I’m a lawyer, baby. Fair is up for interpretation.” He stepped close, wrapping me in his arms. “But I’m glad my tactics worked.”
I couldn’t say I was excited about going to New York. My nerves were too high. But I was happy that we wouldn’t have to say good-bye tomorrow and could prolong it for another week.
I snuggled into his chest. “I assume you’ve already made travel plans for me and Charlie.”
“I may have.” He chuckled. “Just in case.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Just in case.” He’d probably started planning the trip before he’d even asked me on Monday. “Do I need to do anything?”
“No. Just pack a bag for you and Charlie. My assistant will have everything ready by the time we get there.”
I nodded, patting his back and letting him go. “I think we need to clarify a few things before we go.”
I’d been dreading this conversation, but before we left Montana, Logan and I needed to be on the same page, starting with a label for our relationship. The last thing I wanted was to show up in the city and be bombarded by his family, not sure exactly where we stood.
“What’s there to clarify?” Logan stepped back and assumed his normal leaning spot. I’d never be able to look at that cabinet again without picturing him there.
“Well, for one, what exactly are we going to be doing?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you like. I’ll need to work during the day but you and Charlie can explore. And then at night, we’ll all be together.”
“Okay.” I might be able to conjure some excitement to beat out the nerves if I focused on planning fun activities for me and Charlie. “What about your family? You said you wanted them to meet Charlie.”
“I do.”
“And what about me? How do you want me to play this?”
“Play this?” His eyebrows came together. “What are you talking about?”
“This.” I waved my hand between us, then blurted, “Am I going just as Charlie’s mom? Or as your Montana piece? I don’t know how you expect me to act when we’re there.”
The confusion on his face disappeared as his entire frame locked. “What did you just say?”
“I sa—”
Before I could finish, he pushed off the cabinet, crossing the tiny space between us in a flash to press three fingers against my lips. “That was rhetorical.”
Ohh-kay. I held his angry eyes, not moving an inch.
He removed his fingers from my mouth, only to hold one up in front of my nose. “Don’t you ever call yourself a ‘piece’ again. Understood?”
I nodded.
He huffed as he dropped his hand and spun around, raking it through his hair. “Is this why you’ve been stalling all week? Because you’re worried about how I’m going to treat you when we get to the city?”
“Maybe?”
He glowered at me.
“I’ve never done this before and I’m nervous,” I confessed. “You coming here is one thing. We’re on my turf with my friends and family. But me going there is entirely different. I’m not sure how to act when we’re together and I don’t want to do anything that will embarrass you.”
There, I’d said it. Now he knew at least one of the reasons why I was so hesitant to go to New York.
“Baby.” His voice was gentle as he laid his hands on my shoulders. “You could never embarrass me.”
I scoffed, but before I could give him one of a hundred examples of exactly how—use the wrong fork at dinner, say the wrong thing to his mother, wear the wrong dress to meet his sisters—he stroked his thumb across my lips.
“You couldn’t. And you’re coming with me as more than just Charlie’s mother. Since you haven’t figured it out yet, I’ll just be blunt.”
“Blunt is good.”
He grinned. “We’re in a relationship, Thea. Man. Woman. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Call it whatever you want. But when I introduce you to my family, it will be with your hand in mine. And it’s time we stopped hiding it from Charlie.”
He dropped a hand from my shoulder to trail it down my arm to my hand.
The minute our fingers were laced together, a lump formed at the back of my throat. The same one I got whenever he kissed Charlie’s hair and called her peanut. The same one I got whenever he tucked me into his side at night before falling asleep.
Logan and his simple gestures spoke more than a thousand words.
“I don’t expect you to act like anything but yourself. The woman I’m completely falling for.”
That was really, really nice to hear. “I’m falling for you too.”
“I know.” Logan smiled, then pressed his lips against mine in a sweet kiss.
I’d fallen for him the moment he’d come back to Lark Cove for Charlie’s birthday. Or maybe it was all those years ago when he’d swept me off my feet in a hotel bar. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t foolish enough to think our relationship would last forever.
I was foolish enough to let him have my heart until he realized what I’d known all along.
One day, he’d understand that Thea Landry didn’t fit into the Kendrick world. One day, I’d have to let him go.
And if the hollow pit in my stomach was any indication, that day would likely come in New York City.
The next night, I was sitting at the bar drawing in my sketch pad. I’d been here all day, throwing myself into work as a distraction from the nerves. I’d been an anxious mess ever since agreeing to go with Logan to New York. Pouring drinks, wiping down tables and making pizza had given me a nice outlet for my unease.
That was until I’d found a sweet note after the dinner rush.
Someone had written SLUT on a cocktail napkin and left it for me on the bar along with a three-cent tip.
I didn’t know who’d left it because we’d had a busy Saturday. My guess was the woman who’d been in earlier and hadn’t liked it when I’d told her under no circumstances would I call Jackson down so he could “entertain” her.
Seriously. What did he see in those bitches? How was I the slut in this scenario?
The napkin note had pissed me off and taken away my calm. So I’d resorted to drawing to make me feel better. I’d been at it for an hour and was finally beginning to relax again.
“Hey.”
I looked up as Jackson came through the back door of the bar. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I was bored at home. Thought I’d come in and keep you company.”
“Want a beer?” I set down my pencil on my sketch pad and picked up a pint glass.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I’ll just have a Coke.”
I gave him a sideways glance. Jackson Page never turned down beer on Saturday nights. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m good. Just don’t feel like drinking.”
I left it at that and filled his glass with ice and soda. Then I set it on a napkin and leaned against the counter where I’d been drawing.
“Been busy?” he asked.
“Not bad. There was a good dinner rush tonight. Those guys in the corner booth have been here for a few hours. Wayne and Ronny were in earlier, but they both called it a night and left.”
It was almost midnight, so things were winding down, but my day here had gone fast. I loved Saturdays for that reason. If I couldn’t be at home with Charlie, then at least I wasn’t bored at work.
And in just two hours, I could go home and crawl into bed with Logan.
“Where’s Daddy Dearest tonight?” Jackson muttered.
“Hey.” I frowned. How long was it going to take for Jackson to lay off Logan? “Don’t be like that.”
He winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. And he’s at my house with Charlie.”
They’d come in with Hazel earlier for pizza. Hazel had offered to let Logan stay and take Charlie home for bed like she usually did when I was working. But Logan had declined, saying he’d go back with them too.
Mostly because Charlie had begged him to help her pack for our vacation.
“Are you sure you’re okay with covering the bar all next week?” I asked.
“Like I told you yesterday when you asked me that same question ten times, yes. I can handle the bar all week.”
“I know you can handle it. I just feel bad dumping it all on you short notice.”
After I’d agreed to the trip last night, I’d left Logan at home and walked down to the bar to talk with Jackson. He’d grumbled about me moving too fast with Logan but had promised to take care of everything until we came back.
“It’s fine, Thea. Consider it my penance for the whole kissing thing.”
I grimaced. “Don’t ever do that again. That was disgusting.”
“Disgusting? My kisses aren’t disgusting.”
“Don’t pout,” I scolded. “I’m sure all the women who throw themselves at you think you’re a great kisser. But since I’m the closest thing you have to a sister, I can say it was disgusting.”
“Yeah.” His face soured. “It was kind of gross.”
I smiled. “Why don’t you sit down? I’m going to go check on that table and then we can talk.”
He nodded, grabbing his Coke and a tray of peanuts before rounding the bar.
I made quick work of refilling my customers’ drinks before pulling up the stool next to Jackson. We sat quietly for a few minutes, each taking turns at cracking and eating peanuts until I asked the question that had been on my mind for weeks.
“Do you want to tell me what’s been bothering you?” I already knew the answer. Ever since Logan had shown up last month, Jackson had been off. My normally playful and supportive best friend had turned into a moody brat.
“Nothing. I don’t know.” He scratched the scruff on his cheek. “These last few years have been the best, you know? No drama like we had as kids. We’ve got a good gig here at the bar. Finally don’t feel like I’m scraping pennies together. I guess I’m just pissed that things are changing. This guy . . . he’s a game changer.”
“Is that really so awful? Logan’s not a bad guy, and Charlie adores him. She deserves a father, Jackson.”
“I know.” He sighed. “It’s just . . .”
The pieces clicked before he could finish, and I wanted to smack myself on the forehead. Before Logan showed up, Charlie did have a father figure.
Jackson.
This had nothing to do with me and my relationship with Logan. Jackson was hurting because he felt like he was losing Charlie.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how you’d be feeling about all this. But you’ll always be her uncle Jackson. She loves you so much.”
Jackson hung his head. “But I can’t spoil her like he can. I don’t have that kind of money.”
“It’s not a competition, and it’s not about the things you buy her. She needs love from you both.”
He sipped his soda, contemplating my words. “She’ll forget me if you don’t come back.”
“What? We’re coming back. This is just a vacation.”
“You might decide to stay.”
I shook my head. “No, I won’t. I’ve already told Logan I won’t be moving back to New York.”
The only way I’d live in the city was if Logan forced me into a custody situation. But now that I knew him better, I couldn’t imagine him doing that to me.
“This is just a vacation,” I repeated.
“Hope so.” He stood from his stool and went behind the bar for a refill. “While you’re there, go get a Giovanni’s meatball sub for me. Damn, I miss those things.”
Giovanni’s had been three blocks away from my orphanage and right around the corner from Jackson’s foster home. I smiled, thinking of all the times the two of us would share one of those foot-long sandwiches. It was rare. We couldn’t afford them often. But whenever one of us had a couple extra bucks, we’d splurge. Even when we’d both moved out of Brooklyn, he and I would take trips back for a meatball sub.
Jackson hadn’t lived in my orphanage, but he’d met Hazel at a grocery store in our neighborhood where he’d been trying to shoplift a candy bar. She’d caught him before the store owner could and dragged him back to the orphanage. She’d fed him a decent meal and shoved a bag of peas on his black eye—a recent gift from his foster father.
I’d walked into the kitchen that day and the rest was history. Jackson and I became closer than most siblings, while Hazel acted like a mother to us both, making sure we were fed and that our homework was always done.
Still, we were dirt-poor, and since Hazel wasn’t our legal guardian, there was a limit to what she could do. Bad things still happened to us both. Those meatball subs were most often shared when one of us was at our lowest.
And as much as I’d like to have one again, it wouldn’t be the same without Jackson. After he’d moved to Lark Cove, I hadn’t gone to Giovanni’s again.
“I doubt we’ll be spending much time in Brooklyn.” I shivered at the idea of going back to that neighborhood. Besides, Logan was Upper East Side through and through.
“Probably not. I wouldn’t go back either.” Jackson took the soda gun and filled his glass, then he turned and grabbed my sketch pad. He set it on the bar, flipping through the pages. “You’ve almost got this one full.”
“When I get back, you’d better have a new one waiting for me.”
He chuckled. “Done.”
When I’d first moved to Lark Cove, I’d complained to Jackson about how boring it was at night when the bar was slow. He’d bought me a sketch pad and told me to quit bitching. Since then, I’d filled a ton of sketch pads with my drawings of random bar patrons. Every time I ran out of pages, I’d come in to work to find a new one on my desk in the office.
“Who were you drawing tonight?” he asked, reaching the end of the book.
“You’ll see.”
He turned to the last page, where I’d drawn Willa’s profile.
She’d been in earlier for dinner. I hadn’t seen her since she’d watched Jackson kiss me and I could tell she’d been nervous. But after I’d explained to her that there was nothing there and Logan had come in with Charlie, she’d seemed relieved.
Willa had looked beautiful tonight. She’d sat in one of the booths by the front windows and the evening sunbeams had made her long, wavy hair shine like strands of gold. So, I’d picked her as my model. Mostly the drawing concentrated on her hair but I’d also made sure to highlight her high cheekbones and shy smile.
“She’s hot.” Jackson looked up from the book and scanned the bar like he expected her to still be here. “I’m sorry I missed her. Who is this?”
My jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Who is this?” He looked back to the page. “Was she just passing through or do you think she’ll be back?”
“Do I think she’ll be back?” My voice rose as I stood from my stool and rounded the bar. “Give me that.” I swiped the sketch pad away from him, making sure we were talking about the same drawing.
It was. So I shoved the page in his face. “That is Willa, you dipshit.”
“No fucking way.” He yanked the pad from my hands. “She doesn’t look like this.”
“Yes fucking way she does.”
He bent closer to the paper, studying it before looking back to me. “She does?”
“Oh my god.” I tossed up my hands and walked away, going to check on the guys in the corner booth. They were ready to leave, so I rang up their tab and cleared some glasses, waving good night before going back to Jackson. He was still staring at Willa’s picture. “Do you see it yet? Or am I really that bad of an artist?”
“Huh?” He jerked up, forcing his eyes away from the sketch. “I, uh, gotta go,” he muttered, still in a daze as he hugged me good-bye and walked out with my sketch pad.
I smiled as the back door banged closed.
He finally got a clue.
Jackson might not like change, but I had a feeling that by the time I got back from New York, he would have made a few changes of his own.
I just hoped Willa made him work for it a bit.
