Logan shook his head. He wished things could be different, but he couldn’t dwell on it now. He had a life to reclaim as his own. By the time he was through, who Logan Montgomery was and where he was headed would be clear to everyone.
Including Catherine.
Chapter Eleven
Catherine’s head hurt and she could say for certain it was from stress. Along with her assistants, she’d spent the afternoon creating centerpieces for the next day’s party. The small studio she and Kayla had rented for Pot Luck’s place of business was filled to bursting. All that work should have left her spent, especially since she’d gotten little sleep the night before.
Her body still tingled in the places Logan had touched. She shivered at the memory, then decided she obviously wasn’t exhausted enough if she had the ability to think about, let alone react to, the thought of making love with Logan.
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 media, 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 her cell didn’t startle her. She’d been getting calls every thirty minutes for the better part of the evening. Logan had called five times so far, according to her cell. She’d listened to his concerned message once. She didn’t want to speak to Logan and she wasn’t ready to hear his voice again.
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 h
is 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 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.