He grabbed for her hand. “Race me back to the house and you’ll find out.”
* * *
She must be out of her mind. This man who held her hand so tightly, who cherished her with his gaze, his touch, his words… She trusted him. And if her mother had believed in her father… Well, Thomas Luck wasn’t anything like Logan Montgomery. Her father wasn’t a hardworking, loyal, upstanding kind of guy. No one was more distrustful than the Luck sisters, but even Kayla had ultimately believed in a man. In love. In the future.
Maybe it was time Catherine did the same.
She ran with Logan down the long stretch of beach. The wind whipped through her hair and she inhaled the tang of saltwater with every breath. Now that she’d opened both her heart and her mind to the possibilities, everything before her looked fresh and new.
By the time they reached the house, Catherine was out of breath and laughing hard. Her laughter died quickly when she caught sight of the fire still burning in Logan’s gaze. The intensity was catching, and a blaze erupted deep inside her. Her heart began a steady pounding, one that echoed in her ears.
“Cat.” His voice was a deep, husky rumble.
He grabbed her around her waist, hiking the oxford shirt up around her thighs. Laughing, she reached for him with one hand—and then a flash went off in front of her eyes. They weren’t alone.
“What the hell?” Logan reacted first and shoved her behind him, blocking her from view. Considering her state of undress, she appreciated his chivalry, but the picture had been taken and his gesture came too late.
“Mr. Montgomery, I’m here to meet you and your supporters as you announce your candidacy for mayor of Hampshire.” The female reporter glanced at her watch. “I thought the press conference was set for ten, but…”
“Press conference?” Catherine asked, stepping out from behind the shield of Logan’s body.
“Yes. Judge Montgomery said it was at ten, though I may be mistaken.”
“Would it matter?” Logan muttered. “You just got your scoop.”
Catherine yanked down on the hem of Logan’s shirt. It barely covered her thighs and she’d never felt so vulnerable and exposed.
“You said this press conference was planned?” Even as she asked the question, her heart turned ice cold.
“For the past week,” the reporter said. “And you are…?”
“Find out on your own,” Logan said, then turned to Catherine. “Let’s go inside. We need to talk.”
She would have swallowed but her mouth was dry. “I’m not sure there’s anything to say,” she told him.
“Can we discuss this in private?” He gestured toward the eager reporter and her camera-toting sidekick.
Without glancing in their direction, she walked ahead of him and headed for the safety of the house. No sooner had he closed the door behind them than he grabbed for her hand. “Cat…”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Touch you or explain?”
She turned to face him.
Perhaps he read her emotions on her face because he’d schooled his own expression into an unreadable mask. “I take it the answer is both.” Pain and betrayal flashed in his eyes because she wouldn’t give him the opportunity to set things right.
“I’m not sure an explanation would make any difference,” she said. He’d never know the answer hurt her as much as it obviously hurt him. And her heart, which had been as warm as the sunshine, was now frozen solid.
This type of life wasn’t something she understood nor did she think she could get used to being in the public eye. Hounded by the press. Caught in varying states of undress and embarrassment.
“Well, tough, because you’re going to listen. After all that’s passed between us you owe me that.”
She nodded. “I’m listening.”
“The way I see things, the judge orchestrated a meeting here because he knew I wouldn’t show up at his designated spot. Since he knows nothing about you—us—I don’t see this as anything more than a very bad coincidence.”
Logan’s worst nightmare, actually, but Catherine didn’t seem as if she’d be receptive to his feelings at the moment. Not when her own were so obviously hurt and raw. He felt for her, but he also had a heart, and by ignoring his attempt to explain, she was trampling on it.