Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One (25 page)

She jumped off his lap and ran to her bedroom and scooted under the covers. He grabbed the rainbow-colored bear that was almost as big as she was and tucked it in beside her. “G’night, Nicki. I love you.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“Forever and always?”

“Forever and always.”

“I love you too, Logan.” She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and kissed his cheek before curling around her teddy bear.

He hit the lights, made sure her night-light was on, and then tiptoed out just in time to catch Pop eavesdropping. Nicki had nothing on Pop—at least she came by it honestly. “Monkey see, monkey do.”

Pop stood there in his boxers and T-shirt. “Are you calling me a monkey?”

“You’ve been called worse.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” He let out his shotgun laugh and Logan waved his hands to tell him to keep the volume down. “So, I heard you’ve figured out that you’re in love with Skye, huh? It took you long enough. Still, I always knew you were smarter than Storm. It took him a hell of a lot longer to realize he was in love with Bree.”

“Skye never hit me upside the head with a cast-iron skillet.”

“Not yet, but don’t let the fact that she’s no bigger than a minute fool you. The girl’s Irish. She may not be a redhead, and she might be tiny, but she’s got a hell of a temper. She just hasn’t aimed it at you yet.”

“You might be right about that.”

“So have you told her yet?”

He scrubbed his face with his hands and went to sit on the couch. From the looks of Pop, this might be a long talk. He was just glad Pepperoni already peed before they came over.

Pop took a seat on his chair and for once in his life was silent—never a good sign.

Logan blew out a breath. “Yes, I told her. I completely fucked it up.”

Pop shot him that annoying smile of his. “That bad, huh? You need to talk to her, son.”

“Oh, we talked. Did you know she’s Skye Sinclair Maxwell, of the restaurant chain Maxwell’s? Shit, Pop. I thought I fell for a chef, not a freakin’ debutante whose family’s fortune rivals Payton’s.”

“Skye is no Payton Billingsly, that’s for damn sure.
And if you can’t see that, maybe you’re not as smart as you look.”

“I know she’s nothing like Payton, but that doesn’t change the fact that she lied to me.”

“She didn’t lie for shits and giggles, son. She was just playing fast and loose with the truth. She had her reasons. Those brothers of hers are a lot for a girl to handle. They’ve kept her locked up for years.”

“She told you?”

“Nah.” He waved his hand. “I have sources all over the country. It didn’t take me twenty-four hours to put all the pieces together. One of my buddies on the force knows a guy who knows a guy who works in the kitchen of Patrick’s restaurant. He heard the whole thing. Skye quit, and when Patrick didn’t want her to leave, she threatened to fillet him while she packed her knives. I told you she has one hell of a temper.”

“And four overprotective brothers, who, I’m sure, are looking for her. They told her parents she was on vacation.”

“I know that too. Looks like both you and Skye have a lot of unfinished business to settle. It might be a good thing to put your houses in order before you get in too deep.”

“Before? Shit, Pop, I’m in so deep, I’ve gone under for the third time. I love her.”

“Does she love you?”

“Nicki thinks she does.”

A smile split Pop’s wrinkled face. “Don’t discount that—the kid has a way of reading people.”

“I know. It’s almost scary. Skye doesn’t know what she feels, and she certainly doesn’t trust that I know what I’m feeling. She thinks I’m on the rebound, or lonely. She
thinks I see her as a replacement for Payton, or that I’m looking for a mother for my child. She’d believe anything other than the truth.” He ran his hands through his hair and then shook his head. “I’ve never felt this way before, Pop. I never knew I could. I always thought that when it came to me, whatever part of the brain that deals with love had been surgically removed.”

“Not removed, son, just locked away for self-protection. Skye just happened to have the key. Now all you have to do is wait and see if she wants to keep it. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to get your shit together. You need to figure out what the hell you want to do with your life and settle your accounts with Billingsly. I have a feeling this deal with you and Payton isn’t as finished as you think it is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? There was absolutely no ambiguity. I told her in no uncertain terms it was over. I never would have started something with Skye—”

Pop waved his hand and sent the dogs into a frenzy. “I know, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You’ve had your hands full with your recent revelation. Falling up to your eyeballs in love sometimes slows a man’s processing speed. Let me ask you this: Doesn’t it strike you as odd that you haven’t heard a word from your boss? If you’ve been fired, don’t you think he would have said something?”

Maybe Pop was right about the whole processing-speed deal. “I hadn’t thought of it. I’ll call Walt tomorrow. But even if I have a job, I can’t take Nicki away from here. She needs to be around her family. She’s just beginning to get her feet under her.”

“Remember what I said about Nicki. We don’t know anything yet.”

“A man knows his own child.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Not soon enough for me. Did you hear what she said about Marisa?”

“Yes. Marisa always had trouble holding her booze. She had all the signs of an alcoholic and an addict. I’ll never forgive myself for not finding out about Nicki when I had the chance.”

Logan looked up from staring at his hands and found Pop’s face twisted into a grimace. “When was that?”

“Nicki was probably two when Marisa brought her into the bar. Marisa was looking for work and I showed her the door. She never said anything, but hell, son, I could do the math. I knew she spent time with you boys.”

“You had no way of knowing.”

“Don’t change the fact that I should have asked. I should have listened to my instincts. I should have helped the girl out. I’ll spend a long time in purgatory for that one. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, and believe me, son, regrets are a bitch.”

“Tell me about it.” Nicki went through hell and back because he hadn’t cared enough about her mother. Marisa had been just like every other woman he’d been with. Every other woman but Skye.

Skye awoke to find Logan hovering over her wearing a shit-eating grin and holding a Starbucks cup close to her nose. To say he was a sight for sore eyes was an understatement—she didn’t know how anyone could look that good this early in the morning. But then so was the coffee.

“I brought you a red-eye.”

Okay, maybe this whole love thing wasn’t so bad after all. She could get used to having a gorgeous man waking her up with a cup of coffee every morning. She sat up in bed, the sheet pooling at her waist, and reached for the cup. She drank half of it—she couldn’t remember ever being as thirsty as she was right then.

Logan wore a horny schoolboy smirk and stared at her bare breasts.

She tugged up the sheet and tucked it under her arms and smirked right back before draining her cup. It served him right. He should have brought her a venti instead of a tall.

“I called Harrison and asked him to take the early shift and do the prep work so you could sleep in.”

“Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I might just live if you have more coffee.” She set her empty on the bedside table and reached for his.

He released his cup and she took a sip, congratulating herself on bogarting his coffee.

“That should prove my love. I’ve never let anyone swipe my coffee before.” He pulled her onto his lap, and kissed her neck, breathing her in. “God, you smell good. All warm and sleepy. I want to crawl back in bed with you and spend the rest of the day making love.”

“Too bad we have to work.” She kissed him, hoping the coffee covered her morning breath. “Now let go of me so I can get a shower.”

He groaned as she slid off his lap and walked naked to the bathroom. “Do you want something to eat?”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Toast?”

He stood and adjusted the bulge in his pants. “Right. Another first. You’re either brave or reckless.”

“How can you screw up toast?”

She took a quick shower and then dressed in record time. When she left the bedroom, she saw Logan in her kitchen. He had his phone to his ear and talked while buttering a pile of toast. She walked up just in time to see him set it on a plate with eggs and petrified bacon. Her already queasy stomach clenched.

“Fine. I’ll go to Portland, but I need to meet with you before that. I’ll fly into San Francisco Thursday night. We’ll go to the competition together and I’ll catch a red-eye home from Portland on Sunday.”

She took a slice of bacon and stuffed it in her mouth. It disintegrated. It wasn’t burned, just really overcooked.
Still, it kept her from asking who he was talking to and what was going on. She reached for the silverware and grabbed a cup of coffee before sitting at the table and pulling her leg up under her.

“Just have a car meet me at the airport. I’ll e-mail you my itinerary as soon as I make the reservation.” He ended the call, let out a sigh, and grabbed his plate. “It looks as if I’m going to the American Wine Society Commercial Wine Competition this weekend.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t get out of it. My appearance is expected—we have wines entered. It’s a publicity thing. Do you think you could take Pepperoni and stay with Pop and Nicki while I’m gone?”

“Sure.” All she wanted to know was who exactly he was meeting with in California before flying to Portland, but couldn’t ask. She toyed with the runny eggs and watched him eat.

He looked up from his plate. “Not hungry?”

“Not really.”

“I’d think you’d be starved. You haven’t eaten anything worth mentioning since the day before yesterday.”

Maybe this whole love thing didn’t agree with her, but then it could be his cooking too. She wasn’t a huge fan of eggs—especially if they were runny. Nor was she a fan of him leaving and spending the weekend with Payton. She never thought she’d be the jealous type, but then how would she know? She’d never been in love before. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. She definitely didn’t like the way she felt knowing he was going to be in close proximity to Perfect Payton. She couldn’t compete. She didn’t even want to try. But then the thought of losing something
she just discovered was unappealing as well. She wished she could just keep Logan with her and forget the rest of the world existed.

She wished she’d never gotten involved with him. If she had just listened to her instincts, her heart would be safe—now it was anything but.

Logan reached across the table and took her plate. “I know I’m not the best cook, sugar. But at least eat the toast.”

She took another bite of the overbuttered, barely toasted bread, washed it down with her coffee, and followed him into the kitchen, wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned against his back. “I’m sorry. I appreciate the effort.” The mess of a kitchen, however, was something she could have done without.

He turned in her arms and kissed her forehead. “I’ve already fed Pepperoni and took her out, so she’ll be fine in her crate.” He stepped away. “Let’s go. I have travel plans to make. I’ll catch Pepperoni.” He corralled the puppy while she dragged on her sweatshirt. “Here.” Logan tossed her his jacket. “Put this on. We need to get you a coat before I leave.”

She set his jacket on the back of the chair. She had no intention of wearing it.

“It’s getting too cold to be walking around in a sweatshirt. You’ll freeze.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, holding her chin in his hand so she had to look at him. “Don’t get me wrong—I have no problem warming you up, but I don’t want you catching pneumonia for my benefit. Besides, while I’m away, you’ll be the chief dog walker. You need to keep warm and dry.”

“I’m going to buy a coat with my next paycheck. I’m fine for now.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave her that annoying raised eyebrow—the one she’d always found so sexy until it was turned on her.

She slid out of his grasp. “I’ll buy a coat when I’m good and ready.”

Logan held the door open for her and mumbled under his breath—it sounded suspiciously like “my stubborn little pain in the ass.”

She left his coat and walked out with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her hoodie. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, ’cause I did.”

Skye power walked down the alley and into the kitchen. She tossed her hoodie on the hook by the door, tied a clean apron around her waist, and didn’t even notice Logan leave. Thankfully she was too busy to think of anything but work for several hours. Harrison had done a great job and had everything prepped for lunch. She even let him conduct the specials class—explaining the specials and how they were prepared to the servers.

Before she knew it, the lunch rush was over. She took a deep breath, pulled her baseball cap down lower, and thanked God she’d survived—barely. At least the kitchen staff hadn’t heard about the champagne fiasco the day before. If they had, they’d hid it well. Still, knowing she’d had four eyewitnesses was enough to put her firmly on the wagon for the rest of her life.

When Pete stepped into the kitchen and looked at her, she swallowed back bile. “Skye, may I have a word with you in my office?”

All eyes went to her. She nodded, untied her apron, and set it on the worktable, wondering if Logan had been wrong about his assessment. If Pete wasn’t going to fire her, why did they need to go to his office?

He held the swinging door open for her as she passed. “Come on, let me buy you a drink. I don’t know about you, but I need coffee. Just don’t tell Logan it’s not decaf, okay? He’s such a food Nazi.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“I can’t live without the stuff. It’s bad enough I’m not allowed to even drink a freakin’ beer.” He went behind the bar and grabbed the coffeepot.