Trusting Tomorrow Page 8

  But if that were true, why did the thought of sleeping with Logan excite her so much?

  This is so not good.

  Chapter Ten

  Logan watched Brooke in silence as she and Cynthia helped Peggy set the table for Thanksgiving dinner. They seemed to be getting along well, which on some level pleased Logan. Cynthia made Brooke laugh more than once, and when she did, Brooke always shot a glance toward Logan, who smiled at her until Brooke looked away again. Logan tried to ignore the feeling in the center of her gut that signaled jealousy. Jealousy over what—because Cynthia was making her laugh instead of Logan? That was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

  “Logan, are you watching this?” Jack asked. He motioned toward the television where one of the annual Thanksgiving football games was being broadcast. He lowered his voice so Henry couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Or are you too busy watching Brooke to care about the game?”

  “Actually, I’m watching Cynthia,” she said without hesitation. The look on his face was worth the lie, and she turned her attention back to the women setting the table because she knew if she kept her focus on him she’d start laughing. “She’s beautiful, Jack. I’m starting to think she might be too good for you.”

  “You stay away from her,” he said, his tone menacing. She did laugh then, but he didn’t relax at all. “I’m in love with her, Logan. You’d better stay away from her, you understand me?”

  “You are so gullible. Like I’d be interested in a straight woman anyway.” Logan sighed and glanced at Brooke. “I can’t seem to stop thinking about Brooke.”

  “What’s that?” Henry asked without looking away from the game.

  “I said I need to find a good book,” Logan said with a wink at Jack.

  “No, you didn’t,” Henry said. “I don’t know why everybody seems to think I’m deaf. You go right on thinking about Brooke, because I think the two of you would make a wonderful couple.”

  Logan was shocked, and she could tell by Jack’s expression he was too. She didn’t know what to say, so decided to focus on the game and pretend she was the one who couldn’t hear.

  *

  “Wow, Peggy, you really outdid yourself with this meal,” Jack said when he leaned back in his chair and patted his belly. “I don’t think I could force myself to eat another bite.”

  “Good,” Logan said as she stood and began picking up everyone’s dirty plates. “More pie for the rest of us then.”

  “Well, I guess I might still have enough room for pie.” Jack glanced around the table with a grin as everyone laughed.

  When they were done with dessert, Brooke started putting the leftovers away and doing the dishes while everyone else retired to the living room to finish watching the game. She’d just filled the sink up with soap and water when she felt someone watching her. She turned to find Logan against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “More pie?” Brooke asked as she dried her hands on the dish towel she’d slung over her shoulder. “It’s in the fridge.”

  “No, thank you.” Logan pushed off the wall and went to stand next to her at the sink. She pulled the towel out of Brooke’s hands and watched her for a moment. “You wash and I’ll dry. Does that sound all right to you?”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I want to.”

  They stood there staring at each other until Brooke thought she’d either have to kiss her or explode. She finally forced herself to look away. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, but then Logan cleared her throat.

  “I’m sorry. I seem to be apologizing to you a lot, don’t I?”

  “Yes, you do.” Brooke glanced at her. It apparently wasn’t the answer Logan had expected, but to her credit she didn’t miss a beat.

  “What I said last night in the car was insensitive.”

  “The comment about my hand?”

  “And the toys.” Logan reminded her. She stopped drying the plate she had in her hand and turned to Brooke.

  “I do have toys,” Brooke said and immediately felt her cheeks flush. Fuck, did I really say that out loud?

  “Really? Maybe we should try them out sometime.”

  Brooke threw the dishcloth at her and was satisfied with the wet thump it made when it hit her squarely in the chest.

  “Do you enjoy pushing my buttons?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not, because if you truly were sorry, then you wouldn’t say some of the things you say in the first place. Maybe you should try thinking before you speak. I know it’s probably a foreign concept to you, but seriously, give it a try sometime.”

  “Look, can we start over?” Logan asked. The look in her eyes indicated she was being sincere, but Brooke wasn’t entirely sure she could trust her. “Can we maybe pretend the past week never happened?”

  “I don’t think I can. Every time we spend any time together, you always succeed in pissing me off. I honestly don’t think starting over is going to change that, do you?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Then maybe we should just decide to move on and learn from the mistakes we’ve both made. It can’t be that hard, can it?”

  Brooke wasn’t sure she believed the words herself, so how could she expect Logan to? If Logan wasn’t so infuriating, she’d probably be the type Brooke would pursue. Brooke sighed.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” Logan said before nudging her with her hip.

  Brooke sucked in a breath at the unexpected contact. Why the hell did Logan affect her as much as she did? Anyone else who acted this way she’d simply push to the side and go on with her life. For some reason, Logan had managed to get under her skin in an incredibly short amount of time, and it irked her.

  “My thoughts aren’t worth so much, trust me.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Logan said gently. “They’re worth much more than a penny to me.”

  Brooke wanted to believe her, she really did. But how do you believe a woman who’s already admitted to you she goes to bars and picks up women she never has to see again? She turned to face Logan, her hands on her hips.

  “See? This is what I’m talking about. You say things like that, and then I’m never sure if you really mean them, or if it’s simply a part of your arsenal.”

  “I have an arsenal?”

  “Your list of pickup lines for getting into the pants of the women you meet in bars.”

  “Ah—that arsenal.” Logan leaned against the counter. “Brooke, I’ve never used a line on you. I’m sure you don’t believe me, but it’s true. I like you too much to use a line on you. And just for the record? You’ve done your fair share of pissing me off too. I think you enjoy pushing my buttons as much as I enjoy pushing yours.”

  “So you do enjoy it then.”

  “Honestly? I’d rather flirt, but then we end up going down the path to being pissed off anyway.”

  “Then stop flirting.”

  “I can’t help it when there’s a beautiful woman to flirt with,” Logan said. “You might as well ask me to stop breathing.”

  Brooke gave up. Trying to talk to Logan was about as successful as banging her head against a brick wall, headache included. She went back to washing the dishes in silence.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Where are you going?” Brooke asked when Logan emerged from the house carrying a small overnight bag.

  The football games were over, the turkey was eaten, and too much pumpkin pie was consumed by all in attendance at Thanksgiving dinner. Logan, Jack, and Cynthia had returned to their house an hour earlier, and now Logan was leaving for her apartment. Brooke stood from where she was seated on the glider and moved to the railing.

  “Cynthia’s staying here for the weekend, so I’m going home. I’m sure they don’t want me in their way.” Logan had a mischievous thought and set her bag down. “Want to come over and see it?”

  Logan laughed when Brooke took a step back from her, shaking her head vigorously.

  “I d
on’t understand how you can live in a funeral home,” Brooke said with a visible shudder.

  “I don’t live in the funeral home. I live in an apartment above it.” Logan was glad they were talking. She’d been concerned after washing the dishes with Brooke she might never speak to her again. “I work there without a problem, so what’s wrong with living there too?”

  “It’s creepy.”

  “It’s a little unconventional maybe, but creepy? No,” Logan said as she picked up her bag again. “Well, unless you want to count the times I hear footsteps from downstairs in the middle of the night.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Not at all. The strange thing is when I go down to investigate, there’s never anyone there, but the door to the cooler we keep the bodies in before burial is always ajar.” Logan laughed at the look on Brooke’s face and decided to stop teasing her before she got really angry. “Relax, I’m just kidding. It’s been my home for the past ten years, so I really don’t see anything wrong with it.”

  “You invite women there just to get this reaction from them, don’t you?” The flicker of humor in Brooke’s eyes was welcome, but for some reason Logan couldn’t let her think what she assumed was the truth.

  “I’ve never invited a woman there, for your information.”

  “Then why me? Why now?”

  Logan shrugged and scratched the back of her neck. Why had she extended the invitation? She enjoyed Brooke’s company, that’s why. Yes, they always seemed to end their time together with one of them mad as hell, but their interactions were nothing short of invigorating. Brooke made her feel things she never thought she could feel, and she liked it. Even though she hated it, she liked it.

  “You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met before,” Logan said quietly. “You don’t let me get away with anything. Women usually take the things I say at face value, and they don’t argue. All they care about is what I can give them. They want to sleep with me. To finally meet a woman I find attractive—without the pretense of sex—it’s refreshing.”

  “You mean it’s a challenge.”

  “There’s that, too.” Logan laughed at her candidness. She took a deep breath and headed down the stairs. “You know where the funeral home is. The invitation is there. Anytime you want to drop by is fine.”

  “I wouldn’t want to disturb a tryst, so don’t count on me showing up there.”

  “I meant it when I said I’ve never invited anyone there. If I’m home, then you can be assured I’ll either be there alone, or with someone who’s only a friend. You’ll never walk in on something intimate.”

  Brooke said something else as Logan closed her car door, but she didn’t hear it. She didn’t bother to look at her either, she simply started the car and drove away. It was one of the few times they’d managed to have any kind of conversation that ended on a somewhat positive note. She wanted to keep it that way, so she chose not to hear what Brooke had to say.

  She and Jack had come to an understanding. When Cynthia was visiting, Logan would stay at her apartment. When Cynthia wasn’t there, Logan would stay at the house with Jack. It was a good combination for her. She got time with her brother and time to herself. So why had she hoped Brooke would take her up on her offer? She tried to focus her mind on something else.

  Maybe it was time to hit the bars again. A little mindless fun with someone she never had to see again might be just the thing she needed to get thoughts of Brooke out of her head. Because she hadn’t believed what she’d said to Brooke earlier about there being no pretense of sex between them. Logan definitely wanted to be intimate with Brooke, and she was convinced Brooke wanted to sleep with her. The only problem? Brooke didn’t seem to know it yet.

  *

  “She finds me attractive?” Brooke whispered with a strange sense of contentment as she watched Logan driving away. She shouldn’t be feeling content. She should be running away screaming. But there was something about Logan that kept her on her toes. Something that made her realize life could pass her by if she wasn’t paying attention. Brooke wrapped her arms around herself and suppressed a shiver that had nothing at all to do with the cold. Maybe she should’ve taken Logan up on her offer to visit her apartment.

  She shook her head and resumed her seat on the glider. She wouldn’t want to give Logan the wrong idea, would she? No matter how captivated she was, she couldn’t convey the message she was interested. Because when it came right down to it, she wasn’t. The last thing she needed was another woman who wasn’t going to stick around.

  Brooke had never been able to make a relationship last more than three years. Maybe it was her own fault Wendy had looked elsewhere for satisfaction. No, Brooke thought, she hadn’t been at fault. Wendy had never told her she wanted children, so how could Brooke be to blame for what happened? If they’d talked about it, then Wendy would have known she wanted children too. Things might have worked out for them. But maybe the fact Brooke never mentioned it either made it her fault after all. No, she refused to go down that road again.

  She sighed, trying hard not to think about the devastation she’d felt the night she’d come home to find all of Wendy’s things gone. It had come out of the blue. There’d been no indication whatsoever there might be a problem between them. Brooke left for work after they’d shared a shower—a rather steamy one at that. Everything had been fine right up until she’d arrived home from work.

  She waited for the tears that always seemed to come when she recalled the emptiness she’d felt, but they didn’t come this time. Only time would tell, but Brooke had the feeling she was finally and completely over Wendy Morris.

  Now if she could just stop thinking about Logan, everything would be fine.

  *

  It wasn’t the first Thanksgiving night Logan had ended up in a bar, so she knew it would be packed with people who either hated the family get-togethers, or who’d had enough of the holiday togetherness and needed to blow off some steam.

  Logan got herself a drink and made her way to a darkened corner of the room where she could sit on a barstool and observe the crowd in private. She focused her attention on the dance floor. There was something so utterly sensual about two women dancing together. She took a drink of her beer. An image of her on the dance floor with Brooke in her arms flashed through her mind. Maybe she should take Brooke to a bar some night with the pretense of introducing her to the local nightlife.

  What was it about Brooke that had her so preoccupied? She’d wanted to come here to forget about her, and instead Brooke was all she could think about. She felt like a sixteen-year-old girl with her first crush. Thinking about a woman all the time was definitely not on her agenda. It just couldn’t work if your plan was to spend the rest of your life alone.

  Logan was almost relieved when she heard a noise from her right indicating she wasn’t alone in the corner. A hand gripped her forearm lightly, and she felt hot breath in her ear as a familiar body pressed up against her side.

  “I knew I’d find you here tonight, lover.” The words were followed by a tongue caressing the curve of her ear. She knew the throaty voice and she tried to pull away, but Gretchen’s firm grip held her in place. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

  “I told you I couldn’t see you anymore,” Logan said. Gretchen moved around so she was standing in front of her, and Logan had nowhere to go. Gretchen pressed herself firmly between Logan’s legs.

  “We all say things in the heat of the moment we don’t mean, Logan.” Gretchen thrust against her slowly. “You know we’re both here for the same reason, so why not come home with me? Haven’t you missed me?”

  No, she hadn’t, but she knew better than to say it out loud. She concentrated on keeping her breathing even and trying to convey to Gretchen what she was doing had no effect on her. The reality was what she was doing—the incessant undulating between her legs—was turning Logan on. She let her eyes take in the woman before her. Gretchen was beautiful in a pinup girl sort of way, which made
the naughty nurse fantasy a reality when she was in her uniform. Her auburn hair hung in waves to just below her shoulders, and her green eyes shone with mischief no matter what she was doing. Would it really be so bad to go home with her? Her mind was screaming NO! You can’t! but her body was sending an entirely different message. Gretchen smiled knowingly.

  “No strings,” Gretchen said, moving in so her mouth was next to Logan’s ear again. “I get it, baby. No promises of tomorrow, no expectations of anything beyond tonight. I know what you need, so why don’t you let me give it to you?”

  Logan closed her eyes and swallowed hard, knowing she would probably end up going home with Gretchen, even though the voice in the back of her mind kept telling her it was Brooke she wanted to be with. She closed the door on the voice and stood, causing Gretchen to almost fall backward. Logan caught her and held her up. Gretchen’s arms went immediately around her neck, pulling their bodies together.

  “You feel so good, baby,” she said, rubbing her cheek against Logan’s shoulder before kissing her on the lips. It was chaste, which surprised Logan. Gretchen was usually one to move in for the kill.

  “I can’t.” Logan knew her voice didn’t sound nearly as convincing as she’d hoped it would. “I really can’t see you anymore.”

  “Then think of it as a good-bye. Just once more for old time’s sake. You know I can make you feel good, Logan.”

  Logan stood there for a few moments, knowing Gretchen had no clue as to the depth of her internal argument. Her body needed release—more than she could possibly hope to accomplish on her own—but her mind warned this would end up being a mistake. In spite of Gretchen’s assurances of no expectations, Logan knew going home with her would send the wrong message, because obviously Gretchen hadn’t understood her words the last time they were together. She squared her shoulders and pulled away from Gretchen as she made up her mind once and for all.