Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

She shoved the hand into her pocket. “Okay, well…that was different.”

I laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad you found the love of your life like that,” I said. “But for the last time, Logan and I are just friends.”

“Okay, fine,” she relented. “But when you cross that line, I want to be the first to hear about it. Promise?”

I shook my head. “It won’t happen, but sure, okay. I promise.”

Three hours later, I’d just finished cleaning out my library inbox when Logan and Cannon walked through the front doors.

I hated how my heart raced at the sight of him—the slightly damp hair from a recent shower, the fresh light blue thermal covering his strong chest, the dark jeans and the way he filled them out. Every inch of the man radiated power, and yet he had this calming presence that contradicted the force-to-be-reckoned-with exterior.

“Hey, D,” Cannon called over his shoulder as he took a right and headed straight for his favorite section of shelves.

“Hi!” I called back, but he’d already disappeared behind the stacks.

Logan leaned his elbows on the counter as he slid a book toward me.

“So?”

“I already told you I loved it,” he said.

“Yes, but the ending. What did you think of the ending?”

He grinned, leaning closer over the counter. “Tell me you have the next in the series,” he said. “Because it was a bitch of a cliffhanger, and I need to know what happens.”

I smiled and grabbed the book I’d already pulled from the shelf two days ago. “I might have it right here?” I waved the book before him. He reached for it, but I snatched it back.

His eyes flared. “What will it cost me?”

“This is a library,” I said. “Clearly nothing.”

He reached for it again, but I kept it out of range using the counter between us as leverage. If he came around it? I’d be doomed. There was nothing I could keep from him if he wanted to take it.

I swallowed hard, heat pooling between my thighs at the mere thought of the dominance this man could likely dish out.

“What will it cost me?” he said again, laughing.

“I have a craving,” I said, hoping he didn’t realize some of that craving was for him.

He nodded, realization clicking behind his eyes. He tapped the counter twice. “I know what you need.”

If you only knew.

“Sticky rolls from Café Framboise,” he said, and my heart swelled at his memory. At his uncanny ability to read my moods as well as he could, as if it came naturally to him. As if the two of us were so natural together it was like we’d known each other for years, not mere weeks.

“How did you know?” I slid the book toward him.

He set his hand over it. “I know you, Delaney,” he said, and the deep timbre of his voice resonated in my very core.

I laughed a bit nervously, shifting papers and clips around on my desk despite them being in perfect order. Logan tapped the book, then took a couple of steps away from the counter.

I tilted my head.

“You work until eight tonight, right?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Cannon?” Logan called over his shoulder. “You want anything from Café Framboise?”

I bit back my smile.

“Pecan Chocolate tart!” Cannon called back. “And coffee.”

Logan nodded, then spun toward the entryway.

“Aren’t you going to ask what I want?” I called to his back.

He stopped, glanced over his shoulder, and shook his head. “I know exactly what you want.” Then he pushed through the doors.

I stood there, staring at those doors while sparks kissed my skin and a hunger wrenched in my core. Not for the sticky buns and coffee, but for Logan. For the man who’d quickly become my friend, but was on his way to becoming something so much deeper.

My fingers trembled as I returned to my seat behind the counter, my mind spinning with want and hesitation and need and fear. Because the last time I let anyone in, I’d been shredded. And I hadn’t felt connected to him in half the way I did Logan.

An icy-cold realization hit me then—with how I felt about Logan, he had all the power to tear me to bits.

And we weren’t even a couple.

I was so screwed.

5

Logan

“So...you aren’t coming here?” Kaitlynn asked slowly, her voice filling my car through the speakers.

“Not this time, Kate. I have to go to California and then Colorado. Remember, I was already in Chicago for games this year.” I shifted gears and passed the car on my right. The highway was crowded for seven thirty on a Wednesday, but I figured that was about right since it was Valentine’s Day.

“I know,” she pouted. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” A sad smile lifted the corners of my lips as I sped past another car. “How is school?”