Simply Scandalous Page 14
Determined to forget, Catherine retrieved the flour and then pulled the milk and eggs out of the refrigerator. Sugar and water came next. After this morning’s nightmare with the press, she was so worked up, she would probably end up with enough food to feed the entire apartment building. She’d settle for feeding Nick and his fiancée who lived across the hall.
She began mixing the ingredients with a wire whisk and a harder hand than necessary. Never mind that Nick’s crepes could put hers to shame, enthusiasm and surplus energy had to count for something.
The ring of the telephone didn’t startle her. She’d been logging in calls every thirty minutes for the better part of the evening. Logan had called five times so far, according to the tally on the machine. She’d listened to his concerned message once. After that she’d turned the sound all the way down. She didn’t want to speak to Logan and she wasn’t ready to hear his voice.
Not until the embarrassment faded. Not until she could understand how a family could set each other up and not care about the outcome. She and Logan had never seriously discussed the future, but even if they had, Catherine didn’t know if she could accept living in a fishbowl, never certain when the next incident would spring up to humiliate her. The only positive thing about today was her confrontation with Judge Montgomery. At least she’d left him feeling like his equal, not just the hired help he’d demeaned at the party last week.
She continued mixing the batter, slowly adding more milk. She already had the fresh blueberry sauce sitting in a bowl beside the cooktop, ready to go. She wiped her itchy nose with the back of her hand and wondered what her mama would say if she knew Catherine had willingly walked away from the man she loved. You’d be a fool to let that man go, Catherine Ann.
Of course, Mama had lived and died by that particular axiom, Catherine thought. And she refused to become a replica of her mother, pretending to be better than she was, and pining for a man she couldn’t have. Or in this case, shouldn’t have. It all amounted to the same thing. Logan Montgomery meant pain and heartache.
The sound of the doorbell came as a welcome reprieve from being alone with her thoughts. She swung the door open wide. “Your stomach is huge, Nick. I said I’d call when the crepes were…” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of her visitor. “Logan.”
“Obviously you were expecting someone else. Sorry to disappoint you.”
He could never disappoint her. Even with two days’ razor stubble and a weariness etched into his eyes she’d never seen before, he was still the answer to her every dream. Too bad she’d been brought crashing into reality, or she’d be more receptive to the fantasy. “What can I do for you?” she asked.
He propped one arm on the door frame. “Let me in, for starters.”
She drew a deep breath, unsure if she wanted him to enter. At least in her apartment, there were no memories of him besides the ones she conjured in her head.
“You have my car so I had to pay for a cab ride out here. You wouldn’t turn away a poor working man, now would you?” he asked, a charming but wary grin on his face.
Nick would have driven his car back tomorrow, but she doubted Logan wanted to hear Nick’s name mentioned right now. She also doubted he’d accept his car keys at the door and be on his way. Her best bet was to stay composed and detached. Get him in and out—of her apartment as well as her life—no matter how much the thought hurt. “Come on in.”
She stepped aside and as he passed her, she caught a whiff of his distinctive scent and her knees nearly buckled under her. So much for remaining detached. She wondered if she could pull off the composed and aloof routine. She doubted it.
He walked into her small living area and glanced around at her furniture. Dressed in a black polo shirt and denim jeans, he looked at home in her cozy apartment. And that was the last thing she wanted him to be.
He appraised the room from top to bottom before focusing his attention on her living room carpet, one of her favorite furnishings. He raised an eyebrow at the leopard-patterned area rug covering the hardwood floor. No way he’d understand her love of animal prints.
“It’d go well in the cottage,” he said.
Her heart nearly stopped beating. “What do you want from me? Don’t you think today’s proven just how impossible this is?” She gestured back and forth between the two of them, keeping a physical distance.
He closed that fast and she found herself surrounded by his masculine presence. Reaching out, his finger brushed at her nose. “Flour?” he asked.
She nodded, trying not to acknowledge how much that simple gesture affected her. Self-conscious now, she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m making crepes.”
“Sounds delicious.” His stomach rumbled and she laughed.
“Sounds more like you’re hungry,” she said.
He grinned. “So feed me.”
Without another word, she walked over to the pass-through area between her walk-in kitchen and the living room. “I hope you’re not starving because I don’t have much,” she warned him. She was due for a supermarket run. Her cupboards were almost bare except for junk food and the standard things she kept for elaborate baking.
“Whatever you’ve got is okay by me.” He made himself at home, sitting on one of her bar stools that doubled as her kitchen chairs.
She sighed and decided junk food would do just fine. She dug into her cabinets, grabbed her only choice and headed back to Logan. “Here you go, eat up.” She tossed a box of Cracker Jacks at him.
He shrugged. “Love this stuff.”
“Figures,” she muttered aloud.
He tore into the box and held it toward her. “Want some?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Then don’t let me keep you.” He popped a caramel piece of corn into his mouth, then gestured toward her baking ingredients. “I’d love to watch.”
She sighed and glanced at the batter, which still needed thinning.
“You shouldn’t have had to go through what happened this morning,” he said.
The sudden change of subject caught her off guard. She glanced at his serious expression, not sure what to say in return.
“I don’t know if the picture will hit the paper or not,” he said, when she remained silent.
“What you can’t control, you ignore.” Or tried to. She’d spent the afternoon trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d be plastered all over some gossip section of a local paper. “Any chance they’ll bury it on the back page?” she asked.
“Doubtful. And I wish it hadn’t happened.”
She met his gaze. “Maybe so, but did it accomplish your goal?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t believe I had anything to do with that press conference.”
She shook her head. If there was anything in life she was certain of, it was Logan’s integrity. “Of course not.” She wrapped her hand tight around the whisk. The edges of metal bit into her skin. “But can you deny that getting caught half-naked with the woman of the day will help derail your father’s campaign?”
She held her breath, waiting for his answer. As if whatever he said would change what had happened, what was or wasn’t meant to be.
“I wish I could.”
And she wished he’d denied that she was his woman of the moment and felt let down that he hadn’t. What a bundle of contradictions she’d become, Catherine thought. Pushing him away with one breath, wishing he’d come back with the next. Never in her life had she been at such loose ends, so confused over her feelings.
No, that was wrong, she amended. She was quite certain of her feelings. She loved a man she couldn’t have.
“So how did your father take the news that there wouldn’t be a run for mayor?” she asked.
No way Logan would repeat the judge’s tirade. Logan grunted. “Not well.”
He dug farther into the coated candy. “As usual, I disappointed him.” And as usual, Logan felt the same swell of disapp
ointment in his father, because they couldn’t find any common ground and, this time, the rift would be permanent.
“I’m sorry.” She’d braced her hands against the counter and studied him. “Will he get over it?” she asked.
Logan shrugged. “I really couldn’t tell you.”
“But you want him to, don’t you? You’d like to be some sort of family, wouldn’t you?”
“Not if the judge is going to act like a pompous, overbearing…”
“No cursing in my kitchen,” she said, before he could get his next words out.
He laughed. “You know me too well. But yes, if there was a way to come to an understanding without compromising my life, I’d take it.”
“Then try with your mother. You never know.”
Logan nodded slowly. Catherine was right. He hadn’t exhausted every avenue toward peace. When his father had turned pale and grabbed for the wall, Logan realized how badly he’d wanted the judge to come around. The idea of losing him permanently had frightened him. But the older man had recovered quickly, both his pallor and his temper.
He chewed on a bite of candy. Catherine was busy stirring and ignoring him. He dug into the box once more. This time he came up with the prize, a green plastic ring. Knowing all a ring could symbolize, Logan was amazed. Sometimes fate did smile.
Until he’d told his father he intended to marry Catherine, he hadn’t realized that was exactly what he planned. In his gut he’d known it all along. Not that she’d take well to the idea. Not yet. She needed time, which was fine since it would give him more time to get to know her as well.
Without warning, Catherine reached through the pass-through and touched his arm. Her soft gaze settled on his. “Family’s family. Don’t you think your mother would want to help you and your father reach a compromise?”
After the way his father had treated her, he was amazed she could still push for him. But she had no father to speak of and less family than he did. She obviously felt the loss and wanted to prevent him from suffering the same emptiness. Emptiness he wanted to fill for her.
And he would, his family be damned.
He discreetly shoved the prize into his front pants pocket. “I’ll think about everything you said. But unless he stops interfering in my life, there can’t be any compromise. Now, can we stop talking about a mayoral race that isn’t happening?”
She shook her head. “I thought we were talking about your need for family.”
He met her gaze and his mouth twisted into a smile. “I guess we were.” He propped his elbows on the bleached wood counter. “So let’s talk about us.”
Her reluctant grin pleased him. “You never give up, do you?” she asked.
“Nope.” And he wouldn’t. Not until she looked at him with trust and love shining in those green eyes.
He’d put the old man in his place. Regaining Catherine’s trust couldn’t be nearly as tough—as long as no other outside forces interfered again.
CATHERINE GLANCED AT Logan and shook her head. It wasn’t fair, that charm and charisma he possessed. He could twist her around his finger so easily. Too easily, she thought with chagrin. She spun the whisk back and forth between her palms.
“So tell me why you’re so afraid to let yourself go, Cat.”
She was suddenly grateful she had something to do with her hands and began beating the mixture in the bowl without meeting his gaze. “Because I can’t. Did I tell you my father ran out on my mother?” she asked, unsure why she was revealing such personal information, why she’d chosen this particular time.
She’d never discussed her childhood with anyone but Kayla. Yet with Logan it seemed right.
He leaned forward in his seat. “You alluded to it.”
“Well, he took off on her and two kids.”
“And you think any guy you’ll get involved with will do the same?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. But life comes with obstacles. It doesn’t matter if you’re poor and have a hard time paying the bills, or the happiest couple with everything in common, life will throw you a curve.”
She shrugged, finding the explanation more difficult than she thought. She took some time to compose her thoughts and he seemed to understand, granting her the silence she needed. Another special thing about Logan was his ability to listen and the comfortable silences they were able to fall into together.
She shook her head. She was supposed to be explaining their obstacles not finding things they had in common. “If you’re different people to start with, or have problems on the horizon, you’ve already got the deck stacked against you.” She let out a heartfelt sigh. “We have the deck stacked against us.”
On the surface, Logan supposed her explanation made sense. To her at least.
He didn’t agree. They had more in common than she wanted to admit, and few problems on the horizon that he could see. He’d already taken care of the biggest one. If his father had to choose between his beliefs and his son, he’d choose his pompous ideals. It hurt, but Logan had already accepted that reality many times in the past.
So now his family didn’t stand in their way. Nothing did but Catherine herself. She had her reasoning all twisted around so that she believed she had logic on her side. But the core of her fear lay in being abandoned. And because of their differences, she probably thought the risk of him leaving her was too high for her to take a chance on.
He met her green-eyed gaze and held it fast. “The deck’s only stacked against us if you choose to believe it is.”
“Are we back to dreams again?”
He shook his head. “We’re back to reality. To the fact that, yes, life can intrude on the best of couples. But if they work hard enough, if they stick together, they get through it together.”
He wondered if she was really listening and realized her eyes remained steady on his. They were suspiciously damp. She was more than paying attention. She was digesting his words. He’d give her a few minutes in peaceful silence to take his words to heart.
Her fingers toyed with a tiny pendant at the end of a gold chain, drawing his attention to the pale skin visible between the open collar of the blouse she wore rolled up at the sleeves. The gap in the cleavage wasn’t something he could ignore, though he’d been trying for the past half hour.
What he felt for Catherine was greater than lust, even if his growing erection and overwhelming desire to make love to her on the flour-coated kitchen counter threatened to make that statement a lie. And he intended to prove it to her.
Before he acted on need and not common sense, Logan rose to his feet. He had to get the hell out of here and home to an ice-cold shower. He doubted even the hour ride back to the beach would cool his desire.
He said what he’d come to say. He’d leave her alone with her thoughts and trust she’d come to have faith in him.
“You’re leaving?” Her voice broke the silence.
“I’d better. You have to work in the morning.”
She nodded, then headed out of the kitchen. She grabbed his keys from a side table and met him on his walk to the door. “Logan, you’ve been…”
“Don’t say it.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Why not?” she asked. Her nose crinkled in confusion. “You have no idea what I was about to say.”
“Right. And I’d like to leave it that way.” Before she tried for goodbye, see you sometime, or some other lame line he didn’t want to hear. He dug his hands into his front jeans pocket. “But I do want to give you something before I go.”
She shook her head. “I can’t take anything from you.”
He grinned. “Sure you can.” He dug into his pocket, then opened his hand, palm up and revealed the plastic ring with a shimmering sticker on the top. He couldn’t have planned it better if he’d tried.
Jewels and money would turn Catherine off. He had a hunch this small gesture would mean much more.
“What’s that?” Even as she asked, her lips turned upward in a smile a
nd it took all his self-control not to kiss her senseless.
“My ring,” he said and grinned. “Want to go steady?”
If Catherine’s heart hadn’t already belonged to Logan Montgomery, it would now. She looked down at the plastic ring in his hand. Such a small token—from a candy box, no less. How could it mean so much?
She picked up the plastic bauble from his hand. It wasn’t gold or diamonds or some expensive gesture to win her over. It was a gift from his heart.
How could she not accept it? How could she deny her own heart any longer, let alone his?
Catherine slipped the ring onto the third finger on her right hand.
His gaze followed the movement. “I’ll be calling you,” he said in a husky voice. “Later tonight.”
Her stomach coiled into a tight knot. “What if I said don’t go?” She reached out for his hand, locking their fingers together.
His touch was hot, his gaze hotter. “Then I’d ask if you were sure.”
Sure she wanted to be with him? Without a doubt. Sure she was doing the right thing? Well, maybe it was time to take that leap of faith. “I’m sure.”
He cupped her cheeks in his hand and lowered his head, meeting her lips with his. The warmth and tenderness in his touch caused a spiraling heat and a tidal wave of emotion to surge through her. Desire and the urge to have him inside her rose as fast as her remaining doubts fled.
When she reached for the button on his jeans, he unlocked their other hands and stopped her. “I didn’t come here for this.”
If his breathing hadn’t been ragged and his expression tortured—if she didn’t feel the hard, heavy press of his erection where their bodies met—she might have felt embarrassed or vulnerable. But Logan obviously wasn’t saying he didn’t want her.
“Are you afraid you’ll take advantage of me? I know what I want,” she said quietly. “I want you.” Her rapidly beating heart and the sudden liquid rush of desire attested to that.
“No more than I want you.”
“Then there’s no problem.”
He groaned and touched his forehead to hers. “Desire’s never been a problem between us. Sex has never been the issue.”