Page 67 of The Way We Touch
I put my phone facedown on the metal work table, and I feel Craig’s eyes on me. I also hear a shrill, small voice echoing through the dining hall.
“Aunt Deedee!” Kimmie yells. “Where are you? Aunt Deedaaay!”
I try to forget what I’ve just seen, but it’s too late.
Looking up, I see Logan walking through the kitchen door with my niece riding on his back. His dark hair is messy, and his straight white smile seems to glow. He’s in faded jeans and a gray T-shirt that stretches attractively across his muscular chest, and his muscles flex as he holds Kimmie behind his back. Dammit, he’s so hot, and I’m sure my poker face is not working for me.
“Lightning McQueen got me ice cream, then he said we had to come see you before you get too busy.” She tilts her little head to the side, speaking right in his face. “Are you going to marry my Aunt Deedee, Mr. Lightning?”
Logan’s eyes are on me, and his brow quirks at my expression. “I’m not sure she’ll have me.” He sits Kimmie on the counter and walks to where I’m standing trying to get myself together. “What’s that face about?”
“She looked at your Instagram,” Craig answers before I can play it off or even say a word.
I cut my eyes at him, but Logan only laughs. “Oh, man. What have they posted now? I had to pass that account to a handler. The online gamblers were pissing me off?—”
“Models.” Craig continues. “Lots and lots of models. Sooo many models…”
“Will you stop?” I widen my eyes at him.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Honesty is imperative in relationships, especially long-distance ones, and if I’m going to root for you two, I’m going to sing like a stool pigeon.”
“Do stool pigeons sing?” I snip at him. “I thought they just blabbed their big mouths.”
“What’s a stool pigeon?” Kimmie’s little nose wrinkles, and Craig grabs her by the waist.
“It’s a bird. Now come with me, big ears. We’re going to the playground.”
“My ears aren’t big!” She shouts as he picks her up. “Your ears are big!”
“Not as big as your mouth.” He tickles her waist, and she squeals louder.
“Aunt Deedee said you have a big mouth,” she argues.
I wince, looking up at Logan, who is studying my expression. His lips tighten, and he closes the space between us, standing directly in front of me and caging me in with both hands on the metal counter. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”
“Nothing!” My voice is too high, and my stomach is churning.
“Somehow I’m not convinced.” He dips his chin to find my eyes.
I turn to the side, but there’s no escaping his strong arms. “It just… it looks like you have a type is all.” And I’m not it, I don’t say out loud.
“I haven’t looked at that account in a year, but I get invited to a lot of events that require a date. I don’t remember half of who I take to them.”
“Natalia van Norse is in a lot of the photos all the way up to now.” I hate that I sound like a jealous girlfriend. Waving my hand, I duck under his arm and walk around so the counter is between us. “You know what? This is silly. It’s not like we didn’t both have lives before you came here.”
“It’s true. I still haven’t met that golfer.”
“Hopefully, you never will.”
He walks around the counter to where I stand. “Look at me, Dylan. I don’t give a shit about Natalia van Norse. She was in Europe all summer, and the last night we had dinner, she proposed a threesome with the guy she’d been cheating on me with.” He slides a finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “There is nothing there.”
I blink a few times, trying to be strong and not get lost in his blue gaze. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“I’m not.” His hand moves to my waist, and he pulls me against his chest, lowering his face to my ear. “You were my type from the moment I saw you… fucking me with those pretty amber eyes, dancing around here in those hot little cutoffs, teasing me with that ass.”
“Stop.” I laugh, feeling my ears heat. “I was not.”
“You were. Then you melted my face off. I should sue for sexual harassment.”