She turned her head and fixed him in a steady stare. “I know you wouldn’t intend to, but other people’s actions can’t always be controlled.” She was referring to people like Greg and they both knew it. “Besides, I’ve made my choices, and I take responsibility for what I do.”
Each day, each hour, each word that passed between them only made him respect her all the more. It suddenly felt important that she know how special she’d become to him. “I never bring women to my home.”
She tilted her head to study him, her eyes holding a question.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I brought you here the first night I met you. Even then, I knew you were different.” His voice softened. “And you are, Lucy.”
She was silent so long it was unnerving. Then, she pushed to her feet and walked across the room, stopping in front of the balcony window. With her back to him, she’d shut him out. He stood up and followed her to the window. Standing behind her, he gently touched her arm. Lucy whirled and faced him. “Sometimes I get so mad at you Logan.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
“This isn’t what this is supposed to be like. The price is too high. Why can’t you just leave things alone?”
Fear motivated her words, he had no doubt. “Sometimes the reward is greater than the risk. You just have to be willing to reach out and take it.” He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. She needed the space to decide about their relationship on her own. It hurt to think about her turning away from him, but he had to give her the space to do it.
“We can’t go on the way we have. We both know this. But Lucy, I can’t walk away without seeing what is here.” He paused and inhaled a slow breath. Contemplating his next move. “This is your decision. It always has been. The minute you want to stop, we stop. Tell me to take you home and I will.”
She stared at him, her chest rising and falling in a slow but heavy fashion. As if each intake of air was meant to cleanse or perhaps calm. An array of emotions crossed her face. But when Logan was certain she would run, she surprised him. “The food’s getting cold.”
A smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he held his hand out to her. “Then, by all means, let’s eat.”
With only a slight hesitation, her hand slid into his. “Yes, let’s.”
Once they were seated, they ate in silence for a bit, both deep in thought. After some careful consideration, he knew he treaded dangerous water. Logan decided he had to keep pushing. “Do you remember your father at all?”
She sat down her fork and turned her full attention to the question. “No,” Lucy said thoughtfully. “I wish I did. Pictures and my mom’s stories are the only memories I have.”
“I understand,” he said. “I’m adopted.”
“You’re kidding,” she said, eyes going wide.
“I never knew my real parents. I have wonderful parents and a sister I’m close to.”
“Is she adopted as well?” Lucy asked.
“Nope. They say once a couple adopts they get pregnant. And sure enough, that’s what happened.”
“Wow. I’ve never known anyone adopted.”
He laughed and tapped her under the chin with his finger. “You make it sound like a disease.”
Lucy blushed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”
“It’s okay,” he said tossing his napkin on his plate and pushing his plate to the side. “I’m used to it.”
“Why is your name different than the business name? Aren’t your parents the owners of the firm?”
“The business originated from my mother’s side of the family. Carlson is her family name.” They had something else in common Lucy didn’t know. Logan reached out and took Lucy’s hand. “My mother died of cancer several years ago.”
Shock filled her features and her response came slow. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was low. “That must have been incredibly difficult.”
“It was. It still is sometimes. My father has never quite been the same since.” He lost himself in thoughts of his mother for a moment. “She had this game she played with us. Want to try it?”
Lucy laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never been very good at games.”
“This one is easy.” Logan pushed the table so that they had more room. Leaning against the couch, they faced each other. “Okay, this is how it works,” Logan said. “It’s the question game.”
“The question game,” Lucy said. “Okay. Got it. I hope. Whatever that is.”
“What’s your favorite food?” he asked.
“You know the answer.”
“Pizza,” Logan said. “Right?”
“Yes. What’s yours?”
“You know the answer,” he said and winked.
“Pizza,” she said with a smile”
“Right. Now your turn. Ask a question.”
“Do you like scary movies?”