Magic Kiss (Hope Falls Book 11) (22 page)

Everything was coming out all wrong. She needed to cut her losses—losses being her dignity—and get the heck out of there. She rushed to get to the door, but he moved faster and blocked her way out.

“You’re sure this is really what you want?” he asked. His dark, piercing eyes searched hers.

Her mouth watered just from being that close to his bare, muscular chest.

“Yes.” She hoped that she wasn’t drooling as she answered.

“Okay.” His rugged voice sent goosebumps all over her body.

“Okay,” she repeated, taking a steadying breath so she didn’t topple over.

A sudden bout of lightheadedness hit her. Not wanting to ruin the moment by passing out cold, she moved around him and out the door with lightning speed, saying a quick goodnight as she passed his god-like frame.

Then she rushed back to her room as fast as her feet could carry her. The second the door closed, she collapsed against it and slid down to the floor.

Everything that had just transpired between her and Logan felt like it hadn’t really happened to her. Like this was a movie and she was playing a role. She never would’ve guessed that, when she’d had an
Indecent Proposal
moment in real life, she would’ve been Robert Redford in the scenario and not Demi Moore.

Knowing she wasn’t going to get a moment of sleep, she pushed off the ground, walked straight to the desk, sat down, and wrote. She put all the creative juices from Logan’s shirtless body and the promise of research nookie into her craft. Settling back in her chair as she typed, she knew that it was going to be a long, productive night…and so would the next night. Hopefully.

‡

“S
hit,” Logan hissed as he pulled his hand back after he’d accidently grazed it with the sander.

As the machine wound down, he looked at his palm—no real damage. No broken skin. No blood. Just a burn.

Still, he and power tools might not have been the best match today. He checked the clock hanging above the toolbox—four fifteen. He had forty-five minutes before he had to take Drew to Mountain Ridge, where he would be spending the night at the falls.

Since he was going to the all-nighter, Amanda said that he and Noah should rest today to not overexert themselves. So his godson spent the day playing video games while Logan had worked out in the garage and Emma had been writing in her room.

The second hand mocked Logan with each slow click. It was amazing how time had simultaneously seemed to drag on and on while also moving at the speed of light. It didn’t make sense. Just like what had happened last night in his room didn’t make sense.

What the hell have I done?

Logan scrubbed his hands over his face as he leaned against his workbench.

I agreed to have sex with Emma. Andrew’s Emma.

He’d never felt so many conflicting emotions about anything in his life. In fact, he hadn’t even known that it was possible to be this conflicted. Things in his life had been mostly black and white. Yes, he’d done things he wasn’t proud of. Yes, he was still haunted by things he’d seen in combat and on the job. But he’d always been where he was supposed to be, doing what he was supposed to be doing.

Last night, however, he hadn’t had a fucking clue as to what he was supposed to do.

Logan didn’t shock easily. He’d seen too much. Survived too much. When Emma had shown up at his bedroom door, he’d been prepared to deal with whatever she’d had to say to him. He had been prepared for her anger, for her confusion, for her to tell him that she couldn’t stay with him anymore.

Her asking him to have sex with her for
research?
No way in hell had he been prepared for that. Her proposition had shocked him more than the time when he’d decided to put a fork in the electrical outlet on a dare when he was seven. He hadn’t seen that one coming at all.

His phone dinged, and he picked it up. It was a text from Lucky.

ASK EM KADE OR SEAN?

Lucky had been texting him on almost a daily basis with questions for Emma about her books. It was irritating as shit.

NO.

After typing his one word response, Logan set his phone on the workbench. Turning back to his bike, he decided that he was going to try to salvage the remaining time he had left before he had to take Drew to Mountain Ridge. He wasn’t going to think about later that night or the repercussions it could have. Or the betrayal he was committing.

Just as his fingertips brushed the sander, his phone rang. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that it was Lucky. He really didn’t want to talk to his twin brother right now.

Logan had never really bought into the whole twins having special powers or more attuned intuition. When two people are born together, spend every day of their childhood together, share everything including the same birthday, it only makes sense that they would know each other well.

Lucky definitely knew Logan, and he was one of the few people who would be able to tell that something was bothering him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ignore the call because he’d just texted him back.

“What?” he snapped as he answered the phone.

“Wow, bro. I see being a family man hasn’t chilled you out,” Lucky teased. He never took
anything
seriously.

“What do you want?” Logan was being a dick, but this was Lucky. He could take it.

“I was just calling to see how your
Leave It to Beaver
life is going. From how pissed you are just to answer the phone, I’m going to guess things aren’t going too good. Not good at all.”

Logan didn’t want to discuss the situation he was in with his brother. He knew what he would say. Lucky lived in the moment. He seized the day. He acted first and thought…never.

That worked for him, but not for Logan. Lucky lived in a world of many different shades of gray. He could easily justify any action he took in his own mind—and usually to others as well. Logan lived in a world that was mainly black and white. Right and wrong. Until now.

Forget fifty shades—this situation was a hundred shades of grey.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Alllriighhtyy, then. So, if there’s no trouble in paradise, why can’t you ask Em whether Tina ends up with Kade or Sean? Riddle me that, Mr. Sunshine?”

Lucky and Emma got along, but hearing him sound so familiar with her made him want to punch a hole through his workbench.

“First, do not call her Em. Second, I’m not going to ask her because I’m not a seventh grade girl.”

He wasn’t even going to address the Mr. Sunshine dig. His brother had been calling him that since high school and he knew he hated it. He was just trying to get a rise out of him, and Logan wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re only saying that because you haven’t read her books. If you had, you’d be interrogating her day and night.”

There it was. Proof that twins didn’t have some kind of supernatural ESP. Lucky was wrong. Last night, after Emma had run out of his room like the house had been on fire, he’d decided that, if they were going to engage in research, he should find out exactly how in depth it was going to be. He’d stayed up all night and read the first two books in the series.

They were hot. Like come-in-your-pants hot. So much more graphic than he’d expected. He’d gotten so hard, so worked up, that, if Drew hadn’t been asleep in the other room, he would’ve gone to Emma’s room and let the research begin, grey areas or not.

Just thinking about it now had him growing hard in his jeans, which wasn’t good, because he had taxi duty in a few minutes.

“I’ve gotta go—”

“Wait a minute! You
have
read the books, haven’t you!?”

Shit.
Logan might have to rethink his stance on twins having special powers.

“You dirty dog! They’re
hot
right!?” Lucky chuckled, clearly amused.

“Goodbye, Lucky.” As Logan disconnected the phone, his brother yelled for him to ask Emma about Tina.

But he had bigger issues than who a fictional character was going to end up with. Although, after what he’d read last night, he had to admit that he was curious.

Emma was an amazing writer. Not just because of the sex scenes. They were good—fucking amazing, actually—but he couldn’t believe how drawn into the stories he’d been. He wasn’t the demographic that normally read romance novels. Neither was Lucky, for that matter. Yet his brother was obviously invested in the outcome of Tina Spencer’s love life. If that wasn’t an endorsement, he didn’t know what was.

Running his hands through his hair, Logan looked at the clock that had been mocking him all day. T-minus ten and counting.

Could he really go through with this?

Would he be the biggest asshole in the world if he did?

Would he be the biggest asshole in the world if he didn’t?

The moment Emma had said that he didn’t have to be the one she “dated,” that she would “date” someone else, he had snapped. Lucky’s calling her “Em” had made him want to knock him out, so thinking about her hooking up with some random guy in the name of research made him want to kill someone.

That was why he’d agreed to her proposition. Not because he’d wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman in his life—even though he did. Not because it was the right thing to do—which it wasn’t. And not because he hadn’t thought about the repercussions—because he had.

He’d agreed because the thought of anyone else touching her perfect body, kissing her soft lips, causing her to make the sounds she had made in the hallway yesterday made him want to throw up and then kick someone’s ass.

She wasn’t his, but he’d be damned if she was going to be some random asshole’s. Not that it made what he was doing okay. He was definitely in the asshole category for having kissed her yesterday, but at least he wasn’t random. He would never do anything to hurt her or Drew.

Still, every time he thought about what she’d asked, he heard Andrew’s dying breath as he asked Logan to take care of them…

Yeah, he was definitely an asshole.

*

Emma was tapping her foot so fast on the deck that she could’ve easily been mistaken for a Riverdancer. The view of the majestic mountain was serene. The orange hue of the setting sun highlighted the green pine trees and red-and-yellow-speckled Aspens. And melodic sounds of the water rushing in the creek washed over her as she inhaled the fresh, crisp evening air.

She should’ve felt as peaceful as she ever had, but she didn’t. She was the exact opposite, in fact.

She jumped out of her skin at every sound, thinking it was Logan returning from dropping Drew off for his overnight adventure. Her mind was racing with what might happen when he walked through that door.

They hadn’t spoken about her late-night visit or the arrangement they’d agreed to the few times they’d seen each other since then. Breakfast had been an exercise in awkwardness. At least, that was how it had felt to her. Thank God Drew had been there to act as a buffer. Once she’d let him know that she’d talked to Amanda and gave him the green light for the campout, he’d had so much to say that, even if Logan and Emma had wanted to get a word in edgewise, they couldn’t have.

This might just be the most nervous she’d ever been in her life. When she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d been scared but too young and naïve to really understand what had been in store for her. The same with her wedding day—she’d been a little anxious, but mainly because she’d thought for sure Andrew was going to change his mind. When she’d sent out her manuscripts and query letters to the Big Five publishers, she’d definitely had some serious butterfly action, but she’d had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Now, she had a lot to lose. Logan was Drew’s godfather. He sent him money every month for his college fund. He always sent cards and called at least once a month. Whether he knew it or not, he’d been the only male influence in Drew’s life.

What if this ruined that?

Last night, the idea had seemed brilliant—inspired, really. After she’d finished Tina and Sean’s kissing scene, the answer to finishing both books on time had been as clear as the topcoat of her nail polish.