Mad enough to marry (3 page)

Only girls that were payo —^trashy—^painted their

mouths. Girls who did such a thing—and in such a color!—got the wrong kind of attention from boys.

Her abuela, God rest her soul, had been right about that.

Now, all these years later, Elena didn't have time for men and any kind of attention they might give her. Not when there was Gabby to think of and all the money that it would require to put her through college and then medical school. Elena was working two jobs already and, she thought with a sigh, she might have to pick up a third to pay for the damage the recent earthquake had done to the home she and Gabby had inherited from their grandmother.

Anyway, the truth was that Elena had lousy luck when it came to men. It wasn't much hardship to sacrifice them so that her sister could achieve their dream.

Catching sight of broad shoulders and a dark golden head amongst those gathering around a small stage on her right, Elena's feet paused of their own accord, her heart twitching in that stupid, childish way again. Despite the fact that Logan Chase was her best friend's brother-in-law, she gave serious second thoughts to letting him Uve with his own mistake. She didn't want another confrontation with him.

But she steeled her spine and headed his way, because she refused to be ruled by her ridiculous reactions to him. Pride demanded it. Anyway, he was never going to know how he affected her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She excused herself through the knot of people un-

til she stood directly behind him. *'Logan." When he didn't immediately turn, she touched his back.

Something jolted through her fingers, shooting up her arm. Logan jerked around.

'*You," he said, his brown eyes wide.

Elena stared. The word had briefly formed his mouth into a kiss and her Ups started throbbing again. Not because he made her recall those Upstick scrub-bings as she'd tried to tell herself before, but because not twenty minutes ago he'd pressed that mouth against hers. The kiss had spun her away from the kissing booth, from Strawberry Bay, even—unbelievably—^from her worries and responsibiUties,

Biting down on her betraying bottom lip, she shoved her hands in her pockets. The bill crackled against her fingers, reminding her she'd had a purpose beyond reliving that kiss to seek him out.

*'You made a mistake," she said, drawing out the thousand-dollar bill.

He glanced at the money, then back at her face. '*Who's in the kissing booth?"

Willing herself not to flush, she pretended she hadn't admitted to him that her failure in the booth bothered her. "I took the first shift because everyone else had a conflict. This is the Homecoming Queen's hour."

**Ah." His very white smile broke across his face, carving lines into his lean, tanned cheeks. *'Good."

Elena stiffened. "Yes, well, I'm sure she'll have much better success,"

**Damn it, Elena." Logan's smile died and he

pushed his dark gold hair behind his ears. It was longer than she'd ever seen it, almost messy, and it fell forward again inmiediately. He pushed at it once more, an awkward movement, as if he didn't know how to manage the new length. "I didn't mean that the way it sounds."

"How did you mean it then?" Oh, she was proud of herself for how cool she sounded. Almost uncaring.

He muttered something under his breath. *'I—"

The rest of his words were cut off by a trumpet fanfare from the speakers set up nearby. Almost immediately a line of teeny tiny girls in pink tights, leotards, and tap shoes shuffle-stepped onto the stage. The line leader carried a sign proclaiming them to be Miss Bunny's Tapping Tots. Applause erupted from the crowd around them.

Logan said something to her, but it was lost in the first notes of ''The Good Ship Lollipop." Elena shook her head and pointed at her ears to indicate she couldn't hear, bringing her attention back to the bill in her hand.

She held it mutely up to him.

He shook his head.

She shook it in his face. "A mistake," she mouthed.

When he didn't respond, she gritted her teeth and grabbed his arm to tow him somewhere quiet. She was due at her second job in less than an hour.

The art show was set up a httle ways from the stage, and the panels on which the paintings were hung muffled most of the music. Elena halted in the

first aisle and faced Logan. *'This is your money," she said, holding out the bill. When he'd dropped it in the bowl, she hadn't immediately noticed its denomination because she'd been distracted-—okay, fine, dazzled —^by their kiss.

A small smile playing over his wide mouth, he pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking down on her. He was a rangy six-one or six-two, much taller than her five-feet-and-almost-five-inches. Maybe that was why he always managed to make her feel like she was on her first date.

Or maybe that was because he had been her first date.

*'That's the kissing booth's money," Logan said.

She frowned at him. *'Do you need glasses or something? This is a thousand-dollar bill!"

He shrugged. '*You don't think you're worth it?"

She swallowed a sound of annoyance. This is what he did to her. He either made her feel clumsy, cross or a lethal combination of the two that played havoc with her self-control. **Logan."

*'Hmm?"

*lt's no big deal." Her voice was even, reasonable. Very mature. *'You accidentally put the wrong bill into the jar. Give me five bucks, I'll give you this back, and we'll be fine."

He laughed. **We haven't been fine since—"

"Since my best friend started going out with your brother." Her path and Logan's hadn't crossed for years, but then Annie and Griffin had fallen in love.

'*I was going to say we haven't been fine since the night we met."

In an instant, Elena's mouth dried. She'd been newly sixteen, newly orphaned, new to town. He'd been eighteen, golden, a man in her eyes. Her heart jumped around in her chest just as it had done then and she felt the flush of sexual arousal bloom over her skin, just as it had done then too. He'd awakened her that night.

Then a week later humiliated her.

Her fingers tightened on the crisp paper and she looked down at it, then back up to his face. "What game are you playing?" she said slowly.

Now it was his turn to look annoyed. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Why would you put this much money in the fishbowl?"

He opened his mouth. Closed it. His hand lifted. Fell to his side in a fist. "You are too much work," he finally ground out. "Can't you just accept it as a donation?"

A thousand dollars for a kiss? A thousand-dollar donation fox prom decorations? Her face felt stiff and she remembered all over again that Logan's family owned Chase Electronics, the biggest employer in town. He'd grown up within the walls of an estate that was on California's historic register.

"Pardon me for not understanding how little this is to the privileged set," she said. "On my side of town a thousand dollars is a lot of money."

**Elena, I didn't mean it like that." He shook his head, sighing. It sounded like frustration. "Would you believe me if I told you I wish it wasn't always like this between us?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him how he wished it was between them. But that was dangerous, much too much like truly wishing, and though Logan had once upon a time awakened her with a kiss— kisses—she'd given up on princes and happy-ever-afters long ago.

Over his shoulder she spotted her sister with Tyler Evans, turning the comer to the next aisle. Elena frowned, her constant niggle of worry over Gabby growing as she caught sight of the teenagers' entwined hands.

**Fine then," she told Logan, shoving the thousand-dollar bill back into her pocket. "I'll make sure your money gets to the committee." Without waiting for his response, she trailed behind Gabby and Tyler.

Logan trailed her.

She turned her head to look at him. "Why are you following me?"

"Because, damn it, I'm never satisfied with the way things end between us."

There was something hot in his eyes. She hated when he did that. At will, it seemed, he could put a sexual bum into his gaze. She was sure he did it to fluster her, so of course she'd die before she'd let him know that look made her knees quiver and her stomach flutter.

*'Stop doing that." She made sure she sounded irritated.

He shook his head, then put his hand on her arm, halting her movement. '*Elena...'*

Her body was trembling, it was horribly embarrassing, but it was. She tensed her muscles, hoping he wouldn't detect her helpless reaction to his touch. What an unsophisticate he'd consider her if he knew.

*'Elena." His voice softened, hoarsened. That heat in his brown eyes was melting the strength she counted on for survival. **You are so madden—"

**Elena! Someone bought my painting!"

At the sound of her sister's voice, Elena found the will to pull away from the spell of Logan's gaze and touch. She turned to face the approaching Gabby, Tyler a bit behind her. ''What, GabrielUta?"

Cabby's face was flushed and her eyes sparkled. "I sold my very first painting!"

Elena tried to catch up to her sister's excitement "You brought your art to the show." She vaguely remembered Gabby telling her that she and Tyler were each submitting a painting, but the details had gotten lost in all the other details of their busy life.

Gabby nodded. "Mr. Barger—^he's the one in charge of the art show—said it sold about ten minutes ago. And Mrs. Eddleston from the bank is writing a check for Tyler's painting right now."

Her Uttle sister looked as though she was about to pop, and it made Elena grin.

"Congratulations, Gabby." It was Logan.

Cabby's head jerked up and she blinked, as if no-

ticing him for the first time. Hot color rushed across her face. **Thank you. Really. Thank you."

Confused, Elena looked between Gabby and Logan. **What's going on?"

**I bought the painting," Logan said, his gaze on Gabby. '*You can verify it with Mr. Barger, by the way, that I didn't realize who the artist was until after the sale."

Elena turned to look at him, still bewildered. "You bought a painting?"

There was a funny expression on Logan's face. "I've just moved and I could use something for my walls. The painting..." He cleared his throat, shrugged, looked away. "Called to me."

There was a buzzing in Elena's ears. "Wh—" She had to stop, start again. ' 'Which painting, exactly, did you show today, Gabby?"

Her sister gulped. Audibly.

"No," Elena protested, her voice swallowed up by horror.

Gabby nodded, an expression somewhere between mischief and apology in her eyes. "Elena in Bed."

Elena's gaze flew to Logan, even as a flush moved just as quickly from her toes to her forehead. Forget worrying about looking sixteen. Because now the man had bought the right to look at her—^aU day and all night if he wanted.

And though she appeared decent enough in the painting, it didn't help her state of mind to know— and Logan likely suspected—^that beneath those covers she'd been stark naked.

* * *

Late Sunday afternoon, Logan blasted U2 through his stereo speakers as inspiration while he stripped the fourteen coats of paint covering the banister of the stairway in his three-story Victorian. His fingers ached from his grip on the scraper, his back would never be the same after spending the day half-bent, and he was stooping because his knees were already bruised to hell and back. But he'd never been happier in his life, he thought, singing along with Bono. Yeah, man. It was a beautiful day.

It took a while for a muffled banging to distinguish itself from the drumline of the song. Someone was knocking on his front door.

Logan descended the steps at a jog, then paused to turn down the stereo before approaching the foyer. With his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. Maybe he should—

No, even if it was good oV Jonathon Chase, his father, intent on another turn of the guilt screws, it was too late to pretend he wasn't home. Bracing himself, he pulled open the door,

Elena stood on the other side, looking as surprised to see him as he was to see her. They stared at each other for a moment, then she bUnked, her gaze trav-eUng down, then back up to meet his.

**You're, um, dirty," she pointed out, her voice as surprised as her expression.

He nodded, his own gaze involuntarily zeroing in on her full mouth. Dirty in his mind too, he could have added, because he'd been dwelling on that kiss

they'd shared. Not to mention all the time he'd spent studying his new art acquisition, Elena in Bed.

Uh-oh. He suddenly had a very good idea about why the beautiful bane of his life was standing on his doorstep. She'd made some vague threats before hurrying off the day before about getting the painting back.

No, he resolved instantly. No way. It was his! It felt danm good to have something she wanted for once. What other man could say that?

"May I come in?" she asked.

Oh, she wanted the painting bad, Logan decided, because she was actually managing to sound sort of friendly.

Which inmiediately edged up the dial on his Trouble Meter. It was best not to let her inside. Call it a premonition, call it learning from past mistakes, but he and Elena did not do well in close proximity. Consider that kiss. No, better not. Not when she was so near.

He stepped out onto the porch, trying to invent a polite refusal. Hustle her toward home. Out of his life, good. Without his painting. Very good.

But now, a few steps closer to her and with his initial surprise out of the way, his eyes widened again. Elena appeared exhausted. Strangely defenseless too, with her sumptuous curves swallowed up by a white T-shirt and a baggy pair of denim overalls.

With a pale face and tired shadows beneath her baby blues, she was also so gut-wrenchingly gorgeous it made a man want to slay her dragons as much as

he wanted to seduce her. Cursing his own weakness, he found himself turning right around to usher her inside.

**Is everything okay?" he asked, directing her toward the front room. Layers of wallpaper were peeled back from the plaster in long curls. Pink stripes over yellow flowers over a design that might once have been green but was now grayish.