‘Yeah, man.’ He winced at the pain, but tried to smile at her. ‘You think we’re idiots, right? I bet your tree is all up and nice.’
‘I don’t think that at all,’ she told him gently. ‘And, no, I haven’t got around to putting a tree up this year.’
‘Yeah, but you will?’
‘Sure. On my next day off.’
She sounded so offhand, so casual. Was it only him who could read that undertone of sadness? He wanted to understand. To know Kat better. And that realisation should worry him a hell of a lot more than it did.
He listened to their easy conversation as he finished up, then sorted out the paperwork for Dean before finally finding himself alone again with Kat.
‘You’re not intending to put up a Christmas tree at all, are you?’ he asked without preamble.
So much for sticking to the strictly professional.
‘Sorry?’ She stared at him in shock.
‘You told that young man you’d put up the tree on your next day off.’
‘Ah, right.’ She cast him a wary look but he liked it that she wasn’t even trying to perpetuate that particular lie. ‘I don’t know. I thought I might not bother this year.’
‘Nothing at all? Not even a mini fibre optic thing?’
He was teasing her, despite his cautions to keep his distance. She got under his skin far too easily. And he wanted her with a hunger that just seemed to keep growing.
‘What’s this about, Logan?’ she demanded, her voice tight. ‘One minute you’re trying to throw me out of your apartment door in disgust. The next you’re doing...this.’
‘I wouldn’t say in disgust.’
‘I would,’ she bit back, doing a good job of hiding the shake in her voice.
Just not quite good enough.
‘If there was then it was disgust at myself. Not you.’
‘For doing what you did with me,’ she emphasised.
Everything screamed at Logan to walk away. To let her think that. Because if she did, then she wouldn’t want anything more to do with him. And God knew he was doing a lousy job of keeping away from her.
He hadn’t been this out of control with a woman since those first few months with Sophia. Had he really not learned his lesson from her?
Instead, he found himself grabbing Kat’s shoulders and hauling her around so that she had no choice but to face him.
‘Let’s get one thing absolutely clear, shall we?’ he ground out. ‘Any disgust I felt was at losing my head with you on the floor of my blasted living room. With my four-year-old son in the apartment. It was not at you. Or at what we did.’
She blinked, and he could see the glistening in her eyes even as she tried desperately not to show it.
He wanted to say more. To reassure her further. He could have told her that he’d regretted his decision even before her taxi had left. That he hadn’t been able to sleep all night, thinking about her. Imagining her. Fantasising about how things would have gone if they hadn’t stopped.
But beyond that he wanted to tell her how she made him feel that he wasn’t quite so alone. For the first time in a long time he’d felt carefree. Not weighed down by the task of trying to be both mother and father to his precious little boy. She had brought a renewed sense of fun into their lives.
He wasn’t going to say any of it, though. He wasn’t going to make things any more complicated.
‘Jamie and I are going ice skating tonight.’ The words were out before he could think about it. His mouth evidently choosing to ignore the commands the logical part of his brain was trying to issue. ‘Join us?’
‘Ice skating?’ Kat echoed weakly.
‘That’s what I suggested.’ He grinned, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to invite this woman to spend the evening with him. With Jamie.