Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

She shook her head, her cheeks flushing.

“You didn’t bother to see the man beneath the status. The funny, intelligent, most compassionate man on the planet. God, you were so blind. And you…” My words trailed off, tears pooling in my eyes. “You would never be worthy of a man like Logan Ward. He’s so far above you...he’s on another planet.”

A squeak left her mouth. “You little bitch—”

“Hey!” Echo’s voice cut off Blaire’s insult. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my bar? How many times do I have to kick you out before you get it?”

My eyebrows rose at that. Her bar? Damn. Respect.

Blaire hopped off the barstool. “I didn’t know you’d be working.”

“My. Bar.” Echo popped her hands on her hips.

“But the baby—”

“Is with Daddy,” she cut her off. “Moms work, too.” She rolled her eyes. “Now, out.” She waved her arms toward the door. “The Blaire-bitch-project-ban is in full effect for the rest of forever. Suggest you sniff out celebrities in another town.”

Blaire clicked her heels against the floor but spun and stomped out of the bar.

I watched the door swing shut behind her, my eyes shooting daggers into her back.

“You mean what you said?” Echo asked, drawing my attention back to her.

I cleared my throat. “That’s she’s trash? Hell yes—”

“That was amusing, yes,” Echo said. “But the stuff about Logan.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pulsing with hope, with realization at my own mistakes. Realizing how stupid I’d been. I’d given him every reason not to trust me. My stigmas against celebrity athletes from my own fucked-up past. No wonder he didn’t tell me.

I loved him for who he was, and something like what he did for a living wasn’t, couldn’t be a deal-breaker. His soul drew me to him, his laugh and his mind and the way he loved his family. The way I’d never felt safer with someone, or more desired. God, I hope I hadn’t burned us beyond recognition.

“Every word,” I finally answered.

Echo nodded, something dancing in her eyes. “Good. You can stay. I’ll get you another drink.”

I smiled, my mind racing. I fished out my cell, ready to call Logan over and over again until he heard me out. But before I could punch his name, my cell buzzed in my hand.

I answered, anticipation clogging my throat so much I could barely breathe.

“Delaney?” Persephone’s voice filled the other end of the line, not Logan’s. I don’t know why I’d hoped he was trying to phone from someone else’s number in an attempt to get me to answer.

“Hi, how are you?” I managed to say.

“Perfect,” she said. “I’m running to a meeting but simply had to call you. We’ve reached our fundraising goal for the southern wing! Congratulations! Now everything we earn from the auction will be an added bonus.”

My heart swelled, the breath escaping my lungs as tears filled my eyes. “Omigod,” I said. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me thank—” Some rumbling sound thudded in the background, cutting her off. “Well, I have to dash,” she said. “I’ll see you at the auction.” Then she hung up.

I pocketed my cell, shock and appreciation flooding my soul.

And there was only one person I wanted to tell. To share this with.

But I couldn’t.

Because I’d ruined things between us…and it would take more than a phone call to prove my trust, prove my love for him.

An idea took shape in my mind, in my heart, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

Echo sat another drink before me, and I grinned up at her.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sure as hell going to need this.”

21

Logan

Persephone had outdone herself. Bass pumped through the speakers that lined the wide, main corridor, where a ten-foot-wide catwalk had been installed. The circulation desk had been moved, leaving more than enough stage area through the black-tied dressed guests. The lights moved liked we were at a cross between a fashion show and a night club, illuminating the space with streaks of light as the multiple spotlights moved with the beat.

“This is incredible,” I said to her as I waited with the other guys in the draped off backstage area.

“You like it?” she asked as she took it all in, turning a small circle in her strapless, ice blue ballgown. “Your girl helped a ton over the last week.”

“Not my girl.” I smoothed out an invisible wrinkle in my tux. She’d made it pretty damn clear when I’d been here last that she was never going to be my girl again. Two weeks, two hours and—I checked my watch—three hours. That’s how long it had been since I’d seen her.

Two of the most miserable weeks of my life.

My house felt like a tomb—this giant, hollow monstrosity that felt even emptier for the love that only remained in echoes. With the season ended, this was my last Reaper event before I could take off for the summer. Hell, even my tiny, twin bed at Mom and Dad’s was better than sleeping in that king-sized bed without Delaney.