Kairos Page 8

  “Let’s finish up. I have a big day planned for us, and I want to get an early start.” The melancholy expression that overcame his face moments ago is quickly brushed aside.

  I need to shave, so Logan steps out a little while before I do. When I exit the bathroom and see the bed, there are two suitcases on it. One is propped open, and Logan is digging through it for something.

  He’s wearing a gray Nautica t-shirt with navy blue cargo shorts. His hair is loose and still wet. He has a strand tucked behind each ear to keep it from falling in his eyes. Logan doesn’t even have to try, and he’s sexy as hell.

  The things we did last night and this morning replay in my mind. My face is getting warm, so I quickly avert my gaze and walk over to the suitcase on my side of the bed.

  Logan looks up at me over the lid of his suitcase. His eyes are bright and shining. The green in them reflects the light coming in from the window like a gemstone. I catch myself and quickly look back down as I start to sort through the clothes in my suitcase.

  “Where did these come from, Logan?” I pick up the purple dress I purchased from Old Navy a few days ago. Underneath there are a couple pairs of shorts, tank tops, and some halter tops. I pull out a purple paisley halter top and set it aside.

  “Tonya packed a small bag for you and had it waiting in the back of her car,” is his only reply. Logan steps around the bed and comes to stand beside me. He eyes the purple dress with such longing. I giggle, and he looks up and grins. “Wear something you can walk in. We’re going to be moving about all day. Stress comfort over glamour, please.” He looks back down at the dress, and for a moment I wonder if he’s changing his mind, but he shakes his head and turns it loose, resolved to his course of action again. “It’s supposed to be seventy-five degrees today, so we should be fairly comfortable in shorts.” He leans forward and kisses the end of my nose. “I’ll meet you downstairs. I’m going to gather some breakfast for us.”

  I nod and go back to searching my suitcase.

  I get ready in record time. One hour flat. My makeup is light and airy. My hair is pulled back in a French braid underneath my floppy straw hat, and I’m wearing a sleeveless blue lace ruffle top with white shorts and my red ballet flats. Totally walking appropriate. Tonya has been doing most of my shopping since I gave her my credit card and told her to find me a new wardrobe. Style is not something I tend to bother with, but I’m learning to love it.

  I make my way downstairs to the dining room to find Logan sitting at a table waiting for me. His eyes take me in from head to toe, and he nods his approval while trying to hide his smile. His gaze lingers on my exposed long legs as I walk toward our table. I put a little more swagger in my step, and he chuckles at me as I reach the seat and take my place.

  He’s thought of everything. There are two pieces of Texas French toast covered in syrup and powdered sugar, a steaming bowl of oatmeal with sliced strawberries spread over the top, and a plate of fresh fruit beside my glass of orange juice. It looks delicious. I dig in.

  We make small talk as we eat. Logan can’t seem to take his eyes from me, and it is a little unnerving now that we’re out of our little sex den. I feel too exposed sitting here in a thin halter top and short shorts. He has a lot of skin to look at, and he’s not missing an inch.

  His gaze is like a caress as it explores me throughout our meal. I set my fork down, too full to eat another bite, and push my plate away. He’s finishing his last drink of juice and looks up at me as he swallows.

  “Ready?”

  “Sure. Where are we going?” I know he’s not going to answer me, but I continue to interrogate him anyway. He smirks at me and then shakes his head.

  “I’m not telling you. It’ll be plain enough in a few more minutes. Trust me. This is going to be a day you will never forget. I promise!” He’s so excited, and it’s rubbing off on me. He hops up and reaches for my hand. I take it and we head off.

  Once in the Range Rover, he opens the moonroof and rolls all the windows halfway down. I put on my sunglasses and crank up the radio. Logan reaches over and plugs in his iPhone.

  A few seconds later, Avenged Sevenfold is blaring through the SUV. Good looks, great in bed, and great taste in music…this is too good to be true. I smile over at him, turn it up a little louder, and sit back to enjoy the ride.

  The huge exit signs on the interstate and his elated smile were what gave it away. We’re going to Busch Gardens. I haven’t been to a theme park since I was a little girl, and a small, childlike thrill runs through me. I’m going to ride every roller coaster they have. I can see them in the distance as we pull up into the massive parking lot.

  Logan pulls the SUV into a marked space. While he’s rolling up the windows and locking up the car, I step out and around for a better view of the park. It’s so big I can’t fathom seeing it all in one day, but I want to try.

  Logan steps up beside me and slides his hand in mine. I squeeze and grin up at him. He tugs me, and we walk toward the trolley stop.

  At the front entrance, I’m overwhelmed with the smells and sounds and all of the people milling about. This place is amazing. I spin around in a small circle, taking it all in. Logan leans down and kisses my cheek. His lips are warm, and the touch of them is like a burst of sunshine upon me. God, I love his touch. He’s so open with me that I fall into an easy familiarity when I’m with him. It’s like I’ve known him forever, and I can finally be myself without holding back.

  I don’t have to try to be what he wants me to be because it’s the real me that he wants. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and it’s all because of Logan. I’ve known him for such a short time, but there’s something more between us than I’ve ever had before.

  “You said you’ve never traveled, so I found the perfect place to take you a little bit of everywhere.” His smile spreads to his eyes, and he looks so happy in that moment. I tiptoe up to his mouth, kiss him soundly on the lips, and then abruptly pull away.

  I’m grinning from ear to ear. This is going to be a spectacular day. I can feel him chuckle when he hugs me. We pull apart, and he grabs my hand and leads me toward England.

  Best. Day. Ever.

  Nearly twelve hours later, I awake when Logan lifts me from the car. I snuggle into his chest and wrap my arms around his neck. He smells like funnel cake and corn dogs. I smile and relax into him. He’s so strong that he carries me with effortless ease. His heart pounds a lulling beat beneath my cheek and ear, and before I know it, my eyes are heavy again, and I drift back off to sleep.

  Something is clicking. Clicking. Clicking. My eyes blink open with a start, and I slowly rise up and look around. It’s still dark outside. Logan isn’t in the bed. I slide my hand over the sheets, and they’re cool to the touch. He’s been gone awhile. I wonder where he’s gone but don’t want to intrude on his privacy. I lie back down until the clicking starts again. I sit up again and quietly slide out of bed. As I walk toward the bathroom, I see Logan sitting in the floor with a laptop across his folded legs. He’s typing rapidly. His face is drawn tight. A deep V sits between his narrowed eyes. His lips are pursed in concentration.

  I ease back before he sees me and climb back into bed. He’s probably catching up on some work since I’ve been monopolizing his time. It makes me sad to think of returning to our separate lives. I pull the covers up and close my eyes.

  Later on as I drift in and out of a fitful sleep, I’m awakened by a soft rustling noise, and then the click of the balcony door shutting. I sit up in bed and draw the covers to my chest as I look around. I rub my eyes with my hands trying to focus through the darkness of the room. Logan has turned off all of the lights, and it’s pitch black. I reach over to find the sheets on his side still vacant and cool to the touch. I don’t know how long it’s been since I got up to check on him earlier, but I’m guessing I’ve been dozing in and out for at least an hour or so.

  I sit up and let the covers fall, then stand on my unsteady legs, and make my w
ay to the balcony doors. As I reach the door I see a blur of movement to my left. I plant my forehead against the glass door for a better view, but all I’m able to make out is Logan’s form as he leaps from the rooftop to an old oak tree branch. I go to crack the door but he lands in a crouch and swivels on the balls of his feet, his eyes taking in everything around him.

  I don’t know why but I move to the side and hide behind the drapes that have been drawn aside. After a minute of standing as still as a statue, and wondering what the hell I’m hiding for, I finally gain the courage to look back outside. Logan is nowhere to be seen. I open the door and step out onto the balcony and lean over the railing to get a better look. Nothing.

  What in the hell could he possibly be doing at this hour? The cool breeze causes goose bumps to rise on my flesh so I step back inside and shut the door behind me. My bladder chooses this exact moment to remind me that I have zero tolerance for long periods between bathroom breaks. I walk hurriedly to the bathroom and tend to my needs and then wash my hands.

  As I’m turning to walk back to the bedroom I notice Logan’s laptop still sitting on the bathroom floor. The screensaver is flashing across the screen from where his session has timed out.

  I don’t know what comes over me, but I can’t resist the temptation to snoop. With his abrupt departure in the middle of the night, and a conveniently open laptop…who the hell could pass this up? Certainly not this girl! I squat down, then take a seat and pull it onto my lap. When I touch the mouse pad it automatically opens up to his email account. There aren’t any new messages but the cursor is still flashing on the one he opened last.

  Hmmm…should I, or shouldn’t I? That is the million dollar question. My hands shake as my nerves take over, and I cautiously look out into the room to make sure he isn’t coming back. Before my opportunity runs out I quickly click on the most current email. It opens up instantly.

  Subject: Orders

  Attack on homefront. Secure package immediately and bring to the compound. The time is now.

  What the heck is that supposed to mean? What package? Attack on homefront? What in the world is he involved in—better yet, what have I gotten myself involved in? I look down to see another email, this one a few months old, and quickly move the cursor over it and click.

  Subject: Urgent

  Your information was accurate. We have located the girl. Come at once.

  I’ve never been one to assume anything; but everything about our chance meeting, the rendezvous at the club, and now this. My stomach rolls as anxiety begins to settle in my gut like soured milk. Nausea makes my mouth water, and my already shot nerves cause my head to spin. I go back to the main screen and set the laptop back where I found it.

  As I stand, my legs tremble a little, and I’m forced to grab the doorjamb to steady myself. Question after question runs through my mind. My thoughts grow louder and louder, but the all consuming thought that makes my heart stutter, and my chest ache with pain is…why?

  He’s secretive, obviously leads another life I’m completely unaware of, and he’s lied to me. The betrayal hurts like nothing else. What is Logan Thatcher hiding and how does it involve me?

  I make my way back to the bed and crawl under the covers. As I lie there and stare at the ceiling, I begin to wonder if maybe Logan is something more. My imagination is pretty damn active, and I can conjure up plenty of ideas even though I know I’m probably way off base but…something about him pulls me in as if there’s a greater force at work here. Something other.

  The sun is shining when I awake, and Logan is draped over me possessively, his arm around my waist, leg thrown over mine, and his other arm beneath my pillow. I turn and face him. He looks younger when he’s asleep. More vulnerable.

  He’s such a puzzle to me. I feel as if I’ve found all the pieces. Now the hard part is putting them together and learning what makes him tick. Am I going to get the chance? I cringe at the thought. After reading his email I’m more torn than I have ever been in my life about what to do. He’s leaving soon. And he lives so far away. Will I ever see him again? There’s so much to consider with Logan. But I want him. Oh God, do I want him. My heart speeds at the thought.

  I want to learn everything about him. I want to know him better than anyone ever has. I want a chance with him. That’s all. Just one chance to fall in love with him. I feel the beginnings of it. It’s more powerful than it’s ever been before, and I want it with every fiber of my being. But can I love a man who hides his true self from me? Can I honestly let myself fall for someone who, in all likelihood, has betrayed me?

  My vision blurs, causing me to blink rapidly to hold the tears back, but one leaks onto my cheek and weaves a wet trail to my chin, where it dangles and falls onto Logan’s waiting finger. His eyes are open, and he’s staring back at me.

  He shifts toward me, removing all distance between us, and kisses each cheek and the tip of my nose before sliding down to my lips, where he brushes his over mine. His kiss is tender and reassuring. He lingers afterward and then kisses me again. His tongue brushes up against mine, and I dissolve into his strong arms.

  “Don’t cry, mo mhuirnín. This is only the beginning. Not the end.” He leans down and plants tiny kisses all over my face.

  “How did you know?” My voice is scratchy as I fight to hold my tears back. I’m trying so hard not to let my emotions take over. I take a deep breath, and when I release it, I feel more in control. More myself. He looks me in the eye and nods.

  “I can see it in your eyes. Just enjoy yourself. Quit worrying, yeah?” His thumb is stroking my cheek, and I lean my face into his hand. “Okay,” I reply.

  I look up into his warm eyes, “You’ve said that before. Mo mhuirnín. What language is it? And what does it mean?” I sigh as my body further melts into his relaxing touch.

  “It’s a Gaelic endearment.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of how to word his response. I feel his shoulders shrug, and then he answers, “Roughly translated, it means ‘my darling,’ or ‘dear one’.”

  We spend the rest of the day hiking on some local trails and conversing about anything and everything regarding our lives, family, and friends. This trip has really brought us closer to one another, and I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness as the day fades into night and I know I’m going to have to confront him about what I read on his computer.

  We’re going home tomorrow…and to be honest, I don’t know what that means for our relationship, but I know I have to talk to him on the way home. I deserve the truth, and for once, he’s going to give it to me.

  Logan finishes loading up our suitcases and then takes his place in the driver’s seat. He’s been quiet all morning. My thoughts are a little jumbled, and I can’t find the courage to ask him about the emails. I stretch and pull out a book to read during the trip home to avoid any awkward silence. My attention is pulled between enjoying my time with Logan and worrying about the lack of it in the future. I try to let it all go and escape into my book, but it’s not working, and I’m getting irritated with myself.

  I need to learn to control what I’m feeling. I’m letting it take the lead in everything I do with Logan. If I was being honest with myself I would admit that my feelings for him scare the hell out of me. What if I ask about the emails and it’s nothing? Yeah right…who am I kidding? I know something is going on, and I need to quit being such a pansy, and call him out on his bullshit.

  I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s lost in deep thought. His eyes are glued to the road, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel at the proper angles. He’s not even aware I’m still here. He’s wrestling with something substantial. Maybe he’s thinking about us and a future together.

  I shrug internally, turn back to my book, and decide to just let whatever happens happen. I have to quit trying to control everything. I need to give him a chance to come clean on his own.

  We’ve been on the road for nearly five hours, and I’ve read only tw
enty pages. I keep getting pulled from my book into my thoughts. I can’t stand this silence any longer.

  “Pull over. I need to pee.” Are you serious, Macgregor? Damnation, I’m lame.

  He stops at the next rest area, and I hop out and head to the ladies’ room without a backward glance.

  At the sinks I splash water on my face and try to collect myself. I look in the mirror and take deep breaths. I smile, and the sight of it makes me feel better. This is only the beginning, that’s what he said. Now I’ll hold him to it. I nod at myself and walk back to the car.

  Logan is sitting in the driver’s seat when I get in, and he hands me a bottled water. I smile and thank him. We merge back into traffic and set off for the last hour of our trip.

  “I read your emails after you snuck out last night.” He jerks his head to the right and looks at me. I can’t tell if he’s shocked or pissed. I throw my hand up as he opens his mouth to speak, signaling him to stop. “I know something is going on, and I’m tired of waiting for you to come clean and be honest with me.” I take a deep breath and look out the window. It’s easier not to look at him. Having said the words out loud only serves to embolden my distaste for his behavior and further fuel my feelings of betrayal.

  He releases a heavy breath and reaches over to touch my hand. I pull back from him and meet his eyes. He looks wounded, and if I didn’t know better, I would say there was even a touch of fear in his mossy green eyes. He looks back to the road and grips the steering wheel tighter.