Ignoring their sputters of protest, she hurried into the kitchen where she could sneak a peek past the curtains to see what Logan was doing. He stopped at the barn and started unloading sacks of grain. Okay, that was a little odd for a Sunday since the feed mill wasn’t open, but not a big deal. He’d probably finish that and head home.
She breathed a sigh of relief as Tara and Jenny’s conversation filtered in from the porch while she went to check on the book club members in the living room. Millie Swanson and a couple of the other ladies requested more tea, so she refilled the hot water carafe for them before loading the serving tray with dirty cake dishes to take back to the kitchen.
When she passed through the archway, she nearly dropped them all at the sight of Logan stepping inside from the porch. Recovering her composure despite the rattle of plates and silverware in her hands, she strode over to set the tray on the counter, then crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back against the sink to glare at him.
He looked uncomfortable as hell, which was good, because that’s exactly how she felt.
“What do you want?” She kept her voice low so it wouldn’t carry to either the living room, or through the screen door where her friends now sat silent as little church mice.
“Al left a message for me to stop by, but I didn’t see him outside.”
“He’s in his office.”
Logan glanced toward the voices coming from the living room before gesturing toward her grandpa’s office door on the opposite side of the kitchen. “Do you mind?”
“Why do you think I told you where he was?” God, she hated that he turned her into a snippy bitch.
She noticed his jaw clench as he started across the floor. Sweet Pea lumbered in from the living room, right into his path. He paused to lean down and scratch the pot bellied pig behind the ears. She grunted her appreciation, and her grandma swiveled in her seat toward the noise.
The moment she smiled at the sight of Logan, Joy panicked.
“Shoot.” She lunged forward to drag him upright and push him toward the back of the kitchen. “Go. Get outta here,” she whispered.
The frown forming on his forehead became a grimace when he turned and saw the reason she’d shoved him on his way. One look at her grandma, and he hurried toward her grandfather’s office.
“Logan,” Gram called out. “Hold on.”
Logan not Luke. That was a good sign. Joy’s tension dropped a notch.
The correct name made him hesitate and cast her a questioning glance. She waved him on his way, but it was too late. Grandma was already at the kitchen archway.
“Logan,” she admonished. “Don’t go running off before I have a chance to introduce you to the ladies. Come in here.”
He gave Joy a desperate do I have to? look. She lifted her hands palm up, not sure what to say or do.
“Sorry, June,” he began, sidling toward his escape. “Al’s waiting for me. I should—”
“Stop right there, young man.” Grandma put her fists on her hips and glowered. “Do not deny me the pleasure of introducing my granddaughter’s fiancé to all my friends.”
Dead silence fell in the other room at the sound of her raised voice.
Oh boy, here we go.
Completely blocking out the half-dozen avid expressions in the living room, Joy went to her grandma’s side and took hold of her hand. “Gram, we’ve been over this,” she said very softly. “Logan and I are not engaged.”
“June’s off her rocker for good now,” Edna Persky stage-whispered.
Her heart squeezed—especially when her grandma blinked, and the familiar confusion took over her expression. “What? But…of course you are.”
“No—”
A large hand slid around her waist, and Joy suddenly found herself snugged tight against Logan’s side.
“You found us out, June,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Can’t keep nothing from you.”
Astonished, Joy jerked her gaze up to his face. What happened to hell no? His fingers tightened on her hip as his mouth stretched in what was probably supposed to be a smile.
Good one, Logan. Real natural looking, she thought sarcastically.