Crazy Little Thing Called Love (34 page)

“This is none of your business.”

“That's a convenient way to shut me down, Logan.” Max stared him down. “Am I hitting a little too close to home?”

“I think it's time you went home. It's late, you've had your say—and it doesn't change anything.”

“What happened to you, Logan?”

“
Nothing happened to me.
I just want to be happy. I wanted to be with the woman I love—the woman I've always loved. What's so wrong with that?”

No need for him to tell Max that he'd failed at that.

“Have you prayed about any of this? I know for certain you didn't talk to anybody about the decision to quit the team. ‘Seek wise counsel' and all that, right?” Max huffed out a laugh without an ounce of humor in it. “You taught me that verse.”

“Yeah, well . . . thanks for the late-night visit—and the scripture memory lesson.” And if he thought God was listening, he'd have asked forgiveness for being sarcastic. “I've got a job interview tomorrow. So, if you don't mind . . .”

Max knew the way out. No need for Logan to show him the way to the door. This little confrontation had been good. Cleared the air, right? Let Max have his say. But it didn't change anything. Didn't change his mind. The Stormmeisters were his past—and despite all his effort, so was Vanessa.

What was that saying? “Desperate times call for desperate measures” . . . or something like that. Was she desperate?

She had to be.

Why else would she have purchased a plane ticket on short notice, packed a fun new red dress, and flown all the way to Oklahoma to surprise Logan for the weekend? Sheer desperation.

Vanessa drummed her fingers on the steering wheel of her rental car in time to Kelly Clarkson singing “Because of You.” No. No, she wasn't desperate. She was a married woman who wanted to surprise her husband, that's all. What had Mindy and Caron said during their girls' night out?

“Logan misses you as much as you miss him. Go out for the weekend—guys love to be surprised.”

“Yeah—what is wrong with you two? Go have some fun—” Mindy had waggled her eyebrows in a way that made Caron collapse against the restaurant booth in a fit of giggles and Vanessa cover her face and groan. “—and then talk about how you're going to make this long-distance marriage work. Or maybe how you're going to change it up a bit. You could still switch to OU, you know.”

She could transfer. Maybe.

They both needed to talk about their dreams and expectations. Maybe her expectation of finally staying in one place—not moving away from Florida—was getting in the way of Logan's dream. And did she have the right to do that? Did she want to do that? And how realistic was it to expect to stay in one place? She'd moved around so much, moving again should be easy . . .

But that was the whole point. She was tired of moving. Tired of packing up her life and unpacking it all in a new place. And hadn't getting married been all about not moving? And didn't Logan's dream of chasing storms threaten
her
dream?

Dueling dreams. Was that what their relationship came down to?

Maybe they could talk about their hopes for the future—and their marriage—this weekend. And maybe . . . maybe they could have fun, too.

She missed her husband's laugh. Longed for his kiss. His touch. To fall asleep in his arms, to wake up and know he'd still be there—that she hadn't only dreamed about him. And yes, she wanted to hear him say, “Hey, Vanessa . . .” and then suggest something crazy like rock climbing or parachuting or cave exploring.

So, yes, desperation had fueled this trip . . . but so had optimism. And faith. Logan wasn't the only one who believed in God. She just didn't talk about what she believed like he did. Of course, if she let God get a little closer, she might figure out what she did believe.

But when she showed up at his apartment, Logan wasn't there. She had to laugh. Of course her
Surprise! I'm here!
weekend couldn't be easy. The half-asleep guy wearing a
YouTube: Making Idiots Famous Since 2005
T-shirt in the apartment next door seemed to know all about Logan, suggesting she try his favorite hangout, even supplying directions.

Okay—it wasn't
that
difficult.

She found a parking spot right out front of the restaurant. And there was Logan's motorcycle, so she wasn't going to spend the rest of the day chasing down her husband. In just a few seconds she'd walk into the restaurant, up to the booth where he sat, and say hello . . . watch the emotions flit across his face. Surprise. Welcome.

All the planning and expense was going to be worth it.

The burger place was only partially crowded with a pre-dinner crowd. Vanessa stood in the doorway, slipping her sunglasses up onto the top of her head and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The aroma of grilling meat and onions scented the air, making her mouth water. Logan always liked a good burger. Maybe they could eat dinner first and then—

The sound of his laugh helped her find him.

He sat in a booth with two other guys—Brady and someone else. Who had he mentioned recently? Max? And there was Julie, the freshman who had signed onto the team as a photographer. Logan said she was dating her high school boyfriend. Well, at least she'd have something in common with her.

Vanessa tiptoed over to his booth, holding back a grin. She wasn't going to put her hands over his eyes and pull the whole
Guess who?
stunt. But still, why not surprise him?

“. . . I gotta admit, this would be a whole lot easier if I didn't have the stuff with Vanessa weighing me down.” Logan leaned forward on the wooden table, a half-eaten cheeseburger on his plate.

Vanessa stumbled to a halt. She was
weighing him down
?

Here she was, coming to surprise him, to tell him how much she missed him . . . that she loved him enough to change things . . . and he . . . he wasn't missing her at all.

She turned away and collided with someone entering the restaurant. Fell back, the force knocking her purse from her hands, the contents spilling onto the floor.

“I'm so sorry.” The guy bent to help her.

“My fault. My fault. Don't worry about it.” She scrambled to gather everything—her cell phone, lip gloss, Life Savers, loose change—back into her purse.

Get out. Get out.

One quick glance over her shoulder—and yes, Logan was looking right at her—everyone in his booth was.

The smile on his face froze. He half rose. “Vanessa?”

She shook her head and lunged out the door, leaving who-knew-what from her purse still on the floor.

She ran to the rental car and was jamming the key into the lock—
come on!
—when Logan caught up to her.

“Vanessa! What are you doing here?”

How did he manage to infuse just the right amount of surprise . . . and happiness into his question?

“I—I thought I'd surprise you.” She stiffened her shoulders. Turned. Somehow found the strength to look into his blue eyes. “I thought we could spend the weekend together.”

He reached for her, as if he might pull her close. “Wow—that's fantastic! I never thought—”

She shrugged out of his embrace. “I realize you never thought I'd show up this weekend.”

“What?” His eyebrows drew together. “What are you talking about? I was having dinner with the team—”

“I heard what you said, Logan.”

Now he had the decency to avert his eyes, his face flushing red. “Vanessa, you misunderstood.”

“ ‘Things would be easier if Vanessa wasn't weighing me down'? That is what you said—although I realize I may not have quoted you exactly.”

“There's no reason to be sarcastic.”

“Really? Really?” She knew she was raising her voice. That people on the street were staring at them as they walked by. “You're upset that I'm being sarcastic? Logan, you're insulting me to your friends—telling them that you don't want to be married.”

“I didn't say that.”

“For months now you've been choosing this—Oklahoma, storm chasing, even Max and Brady and Julie—over me. Admit it.”

“I'm not standing on a street corner and discussing this with you.”

“You won't ever discuss our marriage with me.”

“Come back to my apartment. We can talk there.”

“No.” Vanessa backed up against the car, gripping the door handle.

“What do you mean, ‘no'?”

“If I come back to your apartment, I know exactly what will happen—and I'm tired of being sidetracked by . . . by . . . that.”

“Come back to the apartment. We'll just talk, okay?”

Hearing the door unlock, she jerked it open, forcing Logan to step away as she dove into the safety of the car. “You're happy here. You don't want to be married . . . fine. I don't want to be, either. I want a divorce.”

The word rent the air between them.

“You don't mean that.”

She bit her lip to stop the trembling. “I do. I shouldn't have come here . . . but at least I know the truth.”

He gripped the side of the door, squatting down beside the car, his face pale. “You are jumping to all sorts of wrong conclusions here, Vanessa.”

“Am I?” She stared straight ahead, the rays of the setting sun blinding her.

“I've told you I'm not going to fight about this here. If you won't come back to my apartment, then come on back inside and have dinner with us. Let's cool down.”

Of course Logan wasn't going to fight with her—he'd stopping fighting for their marriage months ago. She'd lost him to storm chasing . . . not another woman.

“I need to go—” The word “home” refused to form. “—back to Florida.”

Logan spoke through clenched teeth. “Don't do this, Vanessa. Please.”

Vanessa swallowed a sob.

“It's obvious now . . . that our marriage has been over for a long time.” She cranked the engine to life, shifted into gear. “Don't fight this.”

•  •  •

There were people who said they hated surprises—and he'd never understood why. Until today.

Logan stared at his cell phone. “She won't answer her phone.”

“Do you know where she's staying?”

Ever-practical Julie, always thinking ahead.

“No!” Logan buried his face in his hand for a moment. “Sorry. Like I said, I didn't even know she was coming out here at all.”

“Why didn't she come in? Stay and have dinner?”

“She heard what I said—about how she's weighing me down.”

“Oh, no, Logan. That's bad.” Julie reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “But you explained you didn't mean it—you were talking about how hard it is to manage a long-distance relationship . . .”

“I know what I was talking about. And you guys know what I was talking about.” Logan shoved aside his plate. “But Vanessa knows what she heard. And now she wants a divorce.”

“You've got to admit you don't live like a regular married couple, Logan. You're here, and she's there—”

“Thank you for that commentary, Max.”

“What are you going to do, boss?”

“Wait for her to call me back. We'll figure this out. We always do.”

•  •  •

She'd never know who was more surprised when she used the word “divorce”—Logan or herself. Did she really want a divorce? Or was she overreacting—hoping to finally get his attention? Trying to get him to fight with her, fight for their marriage, even as their relationship disintegrated.

She sat in the rental car outside the first motel she'd found. She needed to go see if there was a vacancy. The silence in the car seemed to seep into her heart, touching the invisible wound that grew with every breath she took.

Yes, they'd grown apart—something more than the geographic distance. But she'd never suspected Logan resented her. That he had stopped loving her. That he wanted his dream more than he wanted their marriage.

He was fine with staying at OU?

Fine with living apart?

Fine.

Then they needed to end their sham of a marriage. He could stop pretending he loved her.

Vanessa inhaled a shuddering breath.

God, this was awful.

She'd stayed.

She'd thought he would come back.

But there was no reason for her to keep waiting for Logan now. To figure her life from Christmas break to spring break to whatever few weeks every summer Logan decided to give her.

How had this happened?

It was all so crazy . . . too crazy to last.

Who gets married at eighteen and stays married—besides Logan's grandparents?