Grace for Drowning

"You really think that's it?" I asked. "I thought you said he wasn't chasing girls anymore."

"Maybe he got a look at all this," she replied, gesturing to my body while waggling her eyebrows, "and decided to make an exception."

With almost anyone else, this sort of discussion would probably have sent me into a downward spiral, but Joy's unwavering optimism was infectious, and instead I just found myself shaking my head ruefully. "If that's the case, he picked the wrong girl to break his streak with."

It wasn't like the possibility hadn't occurred to me. Somehow, he saw through my act. He knew that all wasn't right in Grace-land, so to him I probably had "vulnerable girl" written all over me. But, at the same time, he didn't seem like the sort of guy to take advantage, and he hadn't done anything untoward. Well, nothing except stare at me with the sort of intensity usually reserved for lingering close-ups in old school Patrick Swayze movies.

I couldn't imagine myself actually being with anyone else. That part of me had died with Tom. But as much as I wanted to deny it, there was a powerful sense of friction whenever Logan and I were close. Sparks, guilty electricity. I hated it. I hated that my body suddenly seemed to be uncoupled from my mind.

Joy's mouth curled into a sympathetic smile. "I know. Think of it as a compliment." She hesitated. "I assume he has no idea about Tom."

I shook my head. "That's one card I'm keeping close to my chest."

"Well, if he's really making you uncomfortable, maybe you need to make your situation clearer. You don't have to spill the beans, just tell him point blank that you're not interested."

I sighed. "Maybe you're right."

I wasn't sure if uncomfortable was the right word. Confused was more appropriate. Part of me was afraid of him; this towering tattooed warrior who was addicted to the ring. But on the other hand, he was clearly trying to look out for me. I didn't understand why, and I certainly didn't want his help, but it did mean there was no way I could see him hurting me. If anything, I felt strangely safe around him.

Joy clapped. "Anyway, enough of this. You've shown me your guilty pleasure, now it's time for mine."

"I don't feel guilty about it in the slightest," I replied.

"That's the spirit!" She got up and wandered over to fish out a DVD from a nearby bookshelf.

Glancing over her shoulder, she shot me an "oh boy you're in for it" grin. "So let me ask you, how familiar are you with Doctor Who?"

Chapter Seven

Grace

The next night found Logan and I alone in the bar once again.

"You haven't seen Casablanca?" he said. "Seriously?"

Tonight our conversation had turned to movies. It surprised me to learn that Logan was actually a major film buff, and he had a big penchant for what he rather pretentiously called "the golden age of cinema." Apparently there wasn't much to do on a foreign deployment during quiet times besides watch things on people's laptops.

I shrugged. "I'm not really into love stories."

He threw up his hand dramatically. "You young people — no appreciation for the classics!"

I bristled in mock offense. "Young, hey? And exactly how old are you?"

"How old do you think I am?" he replied, with a twinkle in his eye.

I studied him for a moment. It was honestly hard to tell. There was nothing boyish about that strength and hardness, nor the soulful cast of his eyes, but every so often he'd smile in this mischievous way that made him look like a teenager.

"Twenty eight?" I said cautiously?

He clutched his hands to his heart. "Twenty eight? You wound me!" I rolled my eyes. "I'm twenty six," he said.

"Then who are you calling young? You're only a few years older than me!"

"Hey, a few years is a few years." He shook his head and grinned. "Kids these days, no respect for their elders."

I snorted. "Whatever, Gramps."

I felt a ripple of shame as I realized what I was doing. Tom had barely been gone four months, and there I was laughing and joking with another guy. It felt too easy, like the rapport of a long-term couple, not two strangers passing time at work.