Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

“Well, you love me, so I guess you’ll tolerate it,” I teased.

“See! Now you’re getting it.” She kissed my cheek and headed off to her rental car.

I headed toward my car and the woman who had charmed both my mother and sister.

Then I took her home and showed her exactly how much I appreciated her until she nearly passed out from my appreciation.

14

Delaney

“Wait,” Quinn said, halting the book-cart as we roamed the stacks with the returns. “You said I love you, you told him everything, and you’re still are going to stand there and tell me you’re not sure about the future?”

I glared at her, trying and failing to run her over with the cart.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

She’d asked me when we were going to get married.

After the burst of laughter, I’d panicked. It was still so early in the relationship and saying yes to forever with someone? That was huge step I wasn’t ready for.

“Quinn,” I groaned. “I just got to this part—”

“You’re still not fully trusting him, are you?” She whispered the accusation, and I flinched.

“I love him.”

Quinn shook her head. “Love and trust are two different things. Yes, one usually comes with the other. But with you? With what you went through? I understand your hesitation, but by God, woman, you’ve met his mother. You had the exposing of history. This is when you let yourself heal. This is the time you start trusting again.”

“It’s not a switch I can flip!” I didn’t mean to snap. The frustration with myself for even having that small percentage of me that still doubted, still waited for the rug to be ripped out from beneath me, was infuriating. I took a breath. “Sorry,” I said. “But I have given a little.” The memory of him securing me with his tie came to my mind, let alone my admission about the past. Those were two giant steps toward trusting him completely. “All I need is a little more time,” I said. “It will happen,” I said, assuring myself.

Quinn’s eyes flashed with sympathy, and she stepped out of the way of the cart, scooping up a couple of books and returning them to their proper spot on the shelves.

We were silent for the next hour and a half, tension settling between my shoulders. If I could rid myself of the small reservations I had, I would. In a heartbeat. Because I truly loved the man, but I couldn’t help the damage my past had done to me. Maybe I’d wait forever for that shoe to drop, even if it never would. Maybe I had a permanent scar on my heart that I’d wear and feel forever.

I pushed the now empty book cart back up to my desk, Quinn following behind. She hugged me before returning to her desk behind mine, a silent show of support. I could’ve cried at how much I’d needed that hug, but instead, I mustered up a smile and returned to my desk.

“Hi, beautiful,” Logan’s voice startled me out of a full inbox, and I smiled when I found him leaning against the counter.

“Hello yourself,” I said, surprised by his visit. I eyed the area behind him, assuming Cannon would be there but saw no one. “I thought you had to work tonight.”

“I do,” he said. “Can I steal you for an hour? Coffee?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. It was only then I noticed the tension lining his strong jaw, his shoulders.

My brow furrowed and I instantly stood up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded a little too quickly. “I just…can you spare the time?”

I glanced over my shoulder at Quinn, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course,” I said, and grabbed my coat as I rounded the desk. I hooked my arm in his, following him out of the building.

Ten minutes later, we’d settled at a little table in the back corner of our favorite café. Logan’s tension had mounted, and I squeezed his hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I missed you, that’s all.”

I smiled, thanking the waitress as she sat down our mugs of coffee.

“Missed you too,” I said after taking a quick, too-hot sip. “Excited about work tonight?” I joked.

Logan chuckled, then proceeded to knock his mug right over, spilling coffee all over the table. I bolted from my seat, dodging the hot liquid just in time.

“Fuck,” he hissed, quickly righting the mug and mopping up what he could with the napkins he had. Our waitress hurried over, and together we cleared the spill quickly, her promising she’d be right back with another mug. “Sorry about that,” he muttered after we’d sat down again.

“It’s okay,” I said, a nervous sort of dread rising in me. I’d never seen Logan this nervous, let alone frazzled. “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with what I told—”