Your Captivating Love (The Bennett Family 2)

Logan grins. “I still get to take you out? I’m a lucky guy.”

“I like a man who’s confident enough to admit his mistakes.”

Tilting his head to one side, he leans forward slightly. “And I bet you love a man who gives you good food.”

“Awfully presumptuous of you.”

“Not really. I saw you eat last night and this morning. Your appetite is delicious.” He leans in to me until his lips are only inches away from mine. His scent invades my senses, jumbling my thoughts, and I take a step back to clear my head. Logan pins me with his gaze, raising the corners of his mouth in a challenge. This man is intense and, by God, I can’t get enough.

“Let’s see what you’ll feed me, Mr. Bennett.”

“You like French food? Besides croissants?”

“I love it.”

I remind myself of all the reasons I should keep my distance. For one, he’s going to be Ava’s brother-in-law. If things between him and me turned weird, that could make family gatherings unpleasant, and I really like the Bennetts. The most important reason, though, is that I need to focus on my business. There is simply too much at stake. I can’t let anything—or anyone—distract me, much less a man. Last time I did, I lost everything.

I shouldn’t flirt back; I really shouldn’t. Then I notice Logan’s dimples, and I know I don’t stand a chance. I’m a goner.

***

After a short drive in Logan’s car, we arrive at a cozy restaurant. The inside walls are covered almost entirely in wood paneling displaying intricate carvings. Small crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, spreading a warm light throughout the restaurant. Pictures with various French sights hang on the walls.

Our hands touch briefly as we walk to a table. A jolt of need courses through me and my nipples grow sensitive, pressing against my soft, sheer lace bra. I peek at Logan, searching for any signs that I’m affecting him as powerfully as he does me. He seems completely at ease at first sight, but when we sit down, his eyes are darker than before. I draw in a sharp breath, averting my gaze.

Thankfully, the waiter arrives, cutting the tension. We order drinks quickly, but since it’s a French restaurant, they boast an impressive list of quiches. I can’t decide which one I want. In the end, we order four different types, even though it’s just the two of us.

“Tell me about your love for fashion. How did it start?” Logan asks after the waiter leaves. The tension clears from the air, even though I’m quite aware of the continued throbbing in the peaks of my breasts. Logan’s eyes are still dark.

“Like most girls, I liked to dress up my dolls. I guess I never outgrew the phase. When I was in high school, I started sewing my clothing. I didn’t have a style, and went through several experimental stages until I found it.” Sewing was also an escape for me during those hard years. I could pretend I was someone else when I was creating a new piece of clothing.

“I’d love to see pics of that.”

“Oh, no, trust me, you don’t. Anyway, eventually I realized I wanted to make evening dresses, and I’ve stuck with that ever since.”

“It’s a great niche,” Logan comments. “High price, low volume.”

I laugh. “You sound like Ava. She gave me a lot of insights as I put my business plan together, and she’s my very first customer. I’m designing her wedding dress.” I’ve been bursting with pride since Ava asked me to do it. Not only will I be her designer, but also her maid of honor.

“She told me. If you want a second opinion on that business plan, I’d be happy to look over it.”

“Thank you. I’ll be displaying my designs, along with some well-known designers. If I only sell my dresses, no one will come.”

“That’s smart.”

“Yeah, and also costly. The inventory alone will be a fortune. I can’t believe my childhood dream is finally happening.”

“Great to see you stuck with it. Did you ever want to give up?”

I remain silent, debating whether I should tell him about Thomas. Except for Ava and my parents, I haven’t told many people. Logan seems so easy to talk to, though.

“I almost gave up twice.” In quick words, I tell him my story. “I waitressed while studying in New York, and had a nice sum by the time I graduated. The plan was to open a small shop there. But my mom and stepdad lost their jobs, and they needed my help, so I gave it to them. My stepdad had used all his savings paying my college so I wouldn’t get in debt. I couldn’t afford New York anymore, so I moved back to my small hometown in North Carolina, and got a job there. That was the first time I flirted with the idea of giving up.” Remembering that terrible time, I can’t help but feel proud of myself. “But I manned up, got a second job—waitressing again—and started saving once more.”

“You’re tough.” He doesn’t say this with surprise, but with a mix of awe and curiosity.

“Afterward, I met Thomas, my ex. We were working at the same company. They started downsizing, and they fired him. He couldn’t find a job, so he decided to open his own business: a car wash.”

“Tell me you didn’t give him your savings.” Logan’s harsh voice makes me flinch.