Trev agreed. “You two want one—you buy it.”
That led to more arguments, but it was all done in good fun. Then Gretch broke out the Scrabble board, and I discovered Logan’s competitive side. He was all snarls and glares, going for big-point words and triple-scores. I laughed so hard, my sides ached.
It was a great day. I hated thinking of leaving, but I knew I had to go.
“What are you thinking about that made you so tense?” he asked quietly, his arm tightening. “Don’t say you have to go.”
“I do have to go soon,” I admitted. “I have laundry and work I never did this weekend. I have to be ready for tomorrow.” I lifted my head, meeting his worried gaze. “Back to reality.”
He rolled, pinning me under him. “Not totally, Lottie.” He traced his fingers down my arms, making me shiver. “Your reality now contains me. I’m in your life and plan to be a part of your day-to-day.”
I opened my mouth, and he stopped me from speaking. “I know you’re busy. I’ll be teaching every day as well. But we can text and call. Have dinner. Spend some time together. And we have the weekends, right?”
I nodded sadly. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I usually worked from home most of the time on the weekends. He looked so happy; I didn’t want to burst his bubble yet.
He lowered his head and kissed me. “If you play your cards right, you might entice me to sleep over during the week, my Snow Queen. I can wake you up early and send you off to work with a smile on your face.” He ghosted his lips over mine. “And me all over you.”
My core clenched at his words. I liked how that sounded.
“Hmm,” I breathed. “That sounds naughty.”
“Oh, it is. I promise you.” He kissed me again, this time harder. “We’re just starting, Lottie. We’ll figure it out. Just promise you’ll try. Find time to live, not only work.”
“I will.”
He glanced at the clock. “I’ll walk you home in an hour, and you’ll have all evening to do your work, okay?”
“An hour?”
He nudged my collar down with his nose and licked at my skin. “I told you I wanted to have you in my bed. I want my sheets to smell like you when I get in later. Smell like us. I need at least two rounds for that to happen.”
I pulled him down to my mouth. “I could get up a little earlier in the morning. Give you two hours now.”
He smiled against my lips. “Now you’re talking.”Chapter 12LottieLogan walked me home, leaving me at the front door of my building. He kissed me slowly, thoroughly, before he left, striding away, often turning to look behind him. I watched until he disappeared from my sight, a small ache forming in my chest when I could no longer see him.
I trudged upstairs, my condo feeling empty without his presence. I shook my head, made a cup of tea, and sat at my home computer. Fearfully, I opened my email, then purposely put Logan and everything else out of my mind and concentrated on the work waiting in front of me. I was a little surprised at the small number of emails needing my attention. Most of them were group-based, and the information they required had been provided. The few that were for me only, I responded to, leaving the ones that needed data from the files on my desk until the morning. Before I had sat down, I’d thrown in some laundry, and by eleven, I was in bed. My sheets smelled like Logan. Crisp snow and cedar—a woodsy fragrance that suited him. I tried not to smile when I realized he even smelled perfect. I glanced at my phone and sent him a text message. He had made sure we exchanged numbers before we left his place earlier.
Lottie: Hi. Going to bed. Thank you for today.His response was fast.
Logan: Got your work done, SQ?Lottie: Yes. I paused, then added, My bed smells like you.I got back a smiley face and his reply.
Logan: And mine like you. I would prefer if it were the real thing.Lottie: Me too. Have a good day tomorrow.There were a few beats of silence until he replied.
Logan: Sleep well, Lottie. I’ll see you soon. xxI plugged in my phone and curled up, hugging the pillow he had slept on. I inhaled his fragrance, letting it wash over me. I yawned, my body tired, but my mind still awake. I wondered what would happen tomorrow at the office. If my father would punish me for my supposed transgressions of taking the day off and talking back to him. The words Logan had said went through my head on repeat—of doing something I loved rather than trying to make up for something I had no control over. I could only imagine the horror on Charles Prescott’s face if I told him I was quitting to go and bake cakes. He would probably have me committed. As the minutes crawled by, I wondered what it would be like not to dread each day. To be eager to get to work because I was doing something I loved. I sat up, punching my pillow, and rearranging my blanket.