Heart Strings
He wrapped his hands around my arms, pulling me close. “Is that what’s upsetting you? My hair?”
“I don’t expect you to change for me—to impress my parents.”
He kissed my forehead. “I didn’t do it for them, Lottie. Honest,” he assured me. “It was time for a trim. Gretch did it last night and trimmed my beard. I needed to do it for school.” He smiled down at me, teasing my chin with his long fingers. “Think about it. When I first started playing for you, my hair was shorter—not this short, but close. I let it grow over the fall. I got lazy and didn’t cut it.”
“Okay,” I sniffled. “But your cuffs…and stuff?”
He held me tighter. “I love that you notice everything about me. I never wear them at work either. Just my dad’s ring. I never take that off. Really, Lottie, this is just another side of me. I promise not to turn preppy or, what did you call me earlier? Respectable. I’m still me. Just cleaned up a little. I promise to ravish you thoroughly later and prove it.”
I sighed and let his scent wash over me, calming me. He was warm and solid, his embrace comforting. My nerves eased, and the leaden feeling in my stomach loosened.
“Look at me,” he ordered softly.
I peered up, meeting his whiskey-colored gaze. “Are you all right, Lottie? You seem off today. Are you that nervous?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry. I was just…” I trailed off, unable to explain. “I never want you to think you have to change for me. I love you exactly the way you are.”
“I know. I adore the way you look at me. I admit, last night, it was Gretch’s suggestion to cut my hair, but she has been bugging me about it for a while. It’ll make my boss happier too. Although she has been great, I’m sure it will go over big with her as well. Parents do like the people who teach their kids to be presentable.” He kissed the end of my nose, his voice becoming playful. “Aren’t I sexy anymore, Lottie?”
“Of course you are.”
“Then it’s all good. Some days I’ll be your rockerish bad boy, and others I’ll be the respectable teacher.” He slid his hands down, cupping my ass. “Both sides love you.”
I had to chuckle. He lowered his head and kissed me. It was long, deep, and soul-shattering. It set my heart soaring, elated and calmed me, all at once.
He eased back, dropping three gentle pecks to my lips. “Okay, baby. We need to go, or we’ll be late. I don’t want any more strikes against me.”
He shrugged on his overcoat, and I slipped the top button closed. “I like this.”
He winked. “It’s Trev’s. I borrowed it to keep with the image, but if you like it, I’ll buy one. I have to admit, it’s warmer than my leather jacket.”
“I do like it. It shows off your broad shoulders. It’s sexy on you.”
He flexed and rolled his head. “Then we’ll go shopping this week.” He helped me on with my coat. “And you look lovely, by the way. Very pretty today. I love you in blue—it brings out your eyes.”
His words warmed me. I was wearing one of my favorite weekend outfits. A bright blue tunic with a deep cowl neck and gray leggings I tucked into boots. I wore my hair up, and I had a heavy silver chain Brianna had given me cinched around my waist. “Thank you.”
He looked pleased as he brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “You always blush when I compliment you.”
“I’m not used to it,” I admitted.
He pressed his lips to my cheek. “Then I’ll keep doing it until you are.”
He opened the door. “Let’s do this, Lottie.”Chapter 18LottieAt Logan’s insistence, we stopped and he purchased flowers for my mother. It was a small bouquet, but the flowers were lovely. I knew he was determined to make the best impression possible, and I hoped my parents appreciated the efforts.
The only clue that he wasn’t as calm as he pretended to be was his stillness. I was used to his foot tapping, his fingers drumming to music only he could hear. He was always composing in his head, a sound or a beat he would hear often setting him off. He carried a small notebook that he frequently jotted lyrics and musical notes into when inspiration struck.
But today, there was no music in him. I slid my hand into his and squeezed. He smiled at me, kissing my lips with a wink, but even his fire was dimmed. He was focused on a goal. One I hated, because I was fearful of the repercussions if it failed.
We arrived at my parents’ condo building, Logan whistling softly under his breath as we got into the elevator. “Impressive.”
I shrugged. “Ostentatious. But they love it.” They liked the doorman, the huge lobby with its imported marble and dark wood, the concierge, and the valet parking that all came with the hefty price tag of living here. They could well afford it, and it seemed to make them happy. Or at least as happy as anything made them anymore. I still fondly recalled the house I grew up in. It was large and spacious but homey. The condo we moved in to after Josh died was cold and impersonal, and this one was even more so. Decorated beautifully, without a single trace of the parents I remembered and missed.