Текст книги "Crush "

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

DAY 21

LOGAN

Everything about this was wrong.

And I knew it.

We were in between viewing hours at my grandfather’s wake, for fuck’s sake.

Yet, I couldn’t resist her. She was like a drug, an addiction, and being with her was the only way I could keep from spiraling out of control right now. I needed Elle in a way I couldn’t explain. It was like she was the glue keeping me together.

And she knew it.

She had followed me into the bathroom. Locked the door behind her. Then kicked her shoes off. She didn’t have to say a word. I knew why she was in here. I should have sent her away.

A gentleman would have.

We already knew—I wasn’t one.

Just looking at her eased the tension inside me right away.

“Logan, talk to me,” she whispered.

I took a step back until I hit the sink. “Elle, I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes.”

I’d just found my father out in the parking lot with some guy from the neighborhood and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand. He was about to shove the neck in his mouth when I saw him. As soon as he saw me he started shaking so much, he dropped the bottle.

“Don’t, Pop,” I’d said. “Don’t do this. Killian wanted you to be whole. That’s why he did what he did. Don’t make it all for naught.”

“Sean,” my uncle Hunter’s voice boomed. “That’s not what Dad would want.”

I jerked my head around.

Uncle Hunter, my father’s older brother, had moved to New York to get away from the shadow of the Irish Mob. He approached my old man. “Let me take you home for an hour,” he said, and then he looked at me. “I need to have a talk with him and then I’ll bring him back at five for the final viewing hours. Will you stay here until I get back?”

Irish tradition mandated that the body of the deceased not be left alone until burial. It was just one of many traditions that didn’t make much sense. Still, I stayed at the funeral home.

My old man hadn’t taken a drink, but I knew he was close to losing his months of sobriety. The thought cut me like a knife. He had been on his way to living a life free of addiction. I was going to be the one to cut the ties that bound him to Patrick as soon as I figured the whole cluster-fuck situation out. Killian didn’t have to go and do what he’d done. And besides, my old man wasn’t the one who should feel the blame for what Killian had chosen to do, I should. I was the one who started this whole fucked-up thing.

I was the fuck-up.

“Logan,” Elle said, pulling me back. “I know you’ll be fine but I want to be here for you. To help.”

Feeling every sound she made in my cock, I stepped closer to claim her mouth. I knew this was not the place to be doing it, but I needed a hit of something to take the edge off and she was it.

Still, I should have fought my animalistic need. I just couldn’t. My willpower felt as drained as my life.

Our open mouths came together almost savagely and my tongue thrust into her mouth the instant we made contact. This kiss was short, hard, and anything but elegant.

Five seconds or more passed and then she unzipped my pants and started to slide down my body, taking my pants with her.

Again, I should have stopped her. “Elle,” I groaned, trying to protest.

She ignored me and didn’t stop until her face met my cock. By then it was too late to stop her, because I wanted nothing more than to feel her warm mouth on my throbbing dick.

My pants were at my ankles. “Oh, fuck.”

She was licking me like a lollipop from the tip of my cock, which was soaked in pre-cum, all the way to my balls, and then she took me in her mouth as much as she could.

My hands went to her hair, and even though it was pulled back neatly, I still had to hold on to her.

Sounds left my mouth that I tried to hush but couldn’t.

Her hands were jerking me off fast, her lips gliding up and down at the same time.

I thought about pulling her up, lifting her dress, and plunging deep inside her, but I couldn’t move.

Teeth slid, lips sucked, tongue licked, and I let myself go in the pleasure of it all. Let all the shit around me fade away.

When my toes clenched inside my shoes, I had held on to sanity for as long as I could. My thumb was in her mouth and I lifted her chin. “If you want to stop, now is the time.”

She knew what I meant. I was going to come in her mouth if she didn’t stop and if she didn’t want that, she had to stop now.

She didn’t.

My thrusts were frantic. This was it. What I needed. It felt so incredible, and everything that was fucked up around me was gone. “That’s it. Don’t stop. Oh fuck, don’t stop.”

There was no stopping. Her hands were on my ass now, her back arched, and her mouth working magic on me.

My hands were on her head and I felt my orgasm as the sensations began at my feet and traveled up my body. Coming while standing up takes an orgasm to a whole other level. “Fuck!” I shouted.

Her eyes looked up at me and whatever she saw in my own caused her to take me even farther into her mouth. My cock plunged inside her mouth over and over as my body spasmed until I had nothing left. Until all the grief and remorse was drained from me.

This was what I needed in order to face tonight.

And she knew it.

And later tonight she would do the same—she’d spread her legs wide for me and let me fuck her until I was exhausted. Until sleep took me.

And in the morning, I’d lick her to orgasm and then plunge inside her, and I hoped that would give me the strength I needed to make it through the funeral.

It just had to.

DAY 22

ELLE

Wise men say women can be thoroughly fucked.

Well, I now know guys can be too.

I’d made sure Logan had been. It was the only way I could make him feel any better. To help ease his pain and suffering. And I think it worked . . . for a little while anyway.

This day, though, had been extremely long for him. First the church, then the cemetery, and now the reception. Everything had taken its toll on him. I could see it on his face even from across the room.

We were at Molly’s. The place had been closed to the general public. Frank, who owned the pub that had been turned into a club by his daughter, Molly, was Killian’s next-door neighbor for years, and he mourned Killian’s death along with everyone else. Perhaps as a way of showing his condolences to the family or perhaps because he just wanted to help, he had not only volunteered to host the after-funeral affair, but also to cook for the almost one hundred people who had shown up to say goodbye to Killian.

Faces I’d never seen had come and gone, all within a five-hour time span. I worked in the morning and met Logan here after the funeral. I needed to stay away from the public eye in case someone who knew Michael saw me. There was no way I could explain being at Killian’s funeral that would make any sense.

Obviously, I hadn’t gone through with my plan, and I had yet to confess anything to either Michael or Logan. I had gotten sidetracked by the death of Killian. And the more time that passed, the more scared I became to talk to either man. Both outcomes were just so uncertain.

Finally, the funeral reception was coming to an end, and all that remained were Logan’s friends from New York City.

Logan’s mother and maternal grandfather did not come and Logan said it was for the best. In fact, he had asked them not to. I guess he knew they didn’t care for Killian and didn’t want to have to deal with them today of all days.

Since Logan, his father, and uncle had arrived in a limo, Logan’s uncle had taken the Rover that I used to drive to Molly’s and brought Sean home a couple of hours ago. Being around all these people drinking wasn’t a great idea for Sean, but I guess at Irish funerals booze couldn’t be avoided.

“How long have you known Logan?” Phoebe St. Claire, one of Logan’s best friends from New York City, asked from across the table.

Both our feet killing us, we had retired to a dim booth in the corner. The sound of her voice caused my gaze to shift from Logan over to her. “Three weeks.”

Phoebe took a bite of her Irish soda bread. “That’s all? The way he talked about you I would have thought it was much longer.”

My hands on my coffee mug, my smile couldn’t be contained. “He talked about me to you?”

“Well, not to me but to Jamie, who in turn mentioned it to me.”

I glanced back over to where Logan sat at the bar with the group of people I had learned were a very close-knit circle of best friends. There was James Ashton and his new wife, Lindsay; Phoebe’s husband, Jeremy McQueen; Emmy Lane; Lily Monroe; and Danny Capshaw. They all had come this morning to be beside Logan and help him through this tragedy in his life.

It was touching.

Strangely, I realized I yearned for something like that in my own life. How had I gone through thirty years with not even one single person to confide in? Had my past shattered me that much that I couldn’t connect to anyone?

God, I hoped not.

Sipping my coffee in contemplation, I burned my tongue it was so hot and winced.

“You okay?” Phoebe asked me.

I blinked. “Yes. The coffee is really hot, so be careful. What about you? How long have you been married?”

She laughed and glanced at her protruding belly. “Less time than I’ve been pregnant. Jeremy and I met over five years ago, but we just reconnected last year. Logan actually helped us find our way back to one another.”

“Logan is a matchmaker?” I couldn’t believe it.

“No,” she admitted, “but he did take me to a launch party for Assassin’s Creed that Jeremy was attending.”

Games?

Logan?

“You’re kidding. Logan plays video games?” I laughed.

“Oh, yes. Jamie and he claim to be masters at all things video.”

Ripping open a packet of sugar, I added it to my coffee to help subdue its bitter taste. “I had no idea.”

“No idea about what?” Logan asked, sliding in beside me. I’d never seen him drink, but tonight he most certainly had indulged. Slightly drunk, he found my thighs as soon as he set his glass down and pushed them apart. His fingers were cold, and tingles traveled up to my sex and down to my toes.

“That you’re a Guitar Hero master,” Phoebe said with a laugh.

Logan rolled his eyes while at the same time, under the table, his hand snuck beneath the hem of my dress. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long ago,” she countered.

I shifted in my seat as fingers found the inside seam of my hose and traced up it.

Thank God Jeremy slid in next to his wife and took Phoebe’s attention off us.

“Logan,” I warned quietly through my teeth.

My warning went unheard as his hot breath blew in my ear. “What?” He chuckled.

My gaze shot across the table, trying to focus on anything but the pleasure radiating from my core.

Jeremy placed his hand on Phoebe’s cute belly and whispered something in her ear. A strange pang of envy ripped through me; not at the loving couple I was looking at but at her belly, carrying a human being.

Phoebe nodded at him and looked over to Logan. “We need to get going. We have to be back in the city early for a meeting.”

“Thank you for coming,” Logan said. There was a quick press of his thumb right to my clit and then his hand was gone. “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes,” he ordered hot in my ear.

The words seared through me. Meet him. I didn’t think I could move. Tension had already coiled tight in my belly and the feel of his hands between my thighs was the only thing I could think about.

Jeremy had stood to help Phoebe out and Logan quickly followed.

Phoebe threw her arms around Logan as best she could with her bump and I watched as he stiffly hugged her back.

When she pulled away, she patted his chest. “Sorry.”

His friends must have known he had a hard time showing affection.

Surprising me, he put his hand on her stomach. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it ripped my heart in two. The way he looked at her stomach, I just knew he wanted to have children of his own some day.

I forced myself up on rubber-like legs as he took my hand, and together we said goodbye to most of his friends. Oddly enough, they had made me feel like I was part of the inner circle.

“Come on, man, time to toast Killian. You and me and a bottle of Jameson should just about do it,” James shouted unnecessarily to Logan since he was standing so close.

James and Lindsay had stayed behind and it was just the four of us now. They were spending the weekend in Boston.

Logan was standing across from me and he tossed me an apologetic glance. Looked like the bathroom rendezvous would have to wait. “Rain check,” he mouthed.

Butterflies took flight in my belly when I looked at him and I couldn’t help but nod. He was, as always, breathtakingly handsome. It didn’t matter that alcohol had dilated his pupils. In fact, tonight they looked wide and dark. Languid. Sexy. Maybe even luminous as they burned into me with a desire I craved. His gaze seemed to have a glow in it that was only for me. And his scrumptious hair was a beautiful mess, different shades of light and dark brown sticking up everywhere because he had been running his hands through it all day. It looked like just-fucked hair and I had yet to fuck him tonight. Free from intoxication myself, I still licked my lips at the thought of what was to come.

Seeing him, knowing what we were like together, just being with him lit me up from the inside.

“You’re a fucker,” Logan laughed and pointed to James.

I was glad to see the upbeat effect his friend had on him, even though their maturity was lacking. It was obvious their boyhood friendship was emerging the more alcohol they both consumed. It was okay, though. Logan needed this.

James drank from his beer bottle and then looked at me. “You’d better keep him in line, Elle. Whips and chains if need be.”

I hadn’t heard the conversation but answered him nonetheless. “Bondage? I’m not certain he’d be willing to give up control.”

James looked at Logan. “Hey buddy, that would mean you gave a shit enough to take control.” James laughed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Cold, man. Cold.” Logan drained his drink.

Insults flew back and forth. One worse than the other, and each time they both laughed.

More than five minutes later, James slung his arm around his wife, kissed her sloppily on the lips, and then patted her ass, whispering something to her that I knew had to be sexual in nature.

She smiled at him submissively, and the term alpha male came to mind. I remembered calling Logan that when we first met. Made me wonder—was he one? James was for certain. I’d spent enough time with him to know this and I didn’t have a doubt that Lindsay knew it too. Not that I was judging their relationship. They seemed very happy.

James then clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Come on, you fucker, time to hit the bottle.”

Logan glanced at me.

“Oh man, don’t be a pansy-ass.”

Logan threw James the finger.

James shoved Logan’s hand playfully out of his face and said, “I prefer the real thing.”

Lindsay laughed at them both. She’d seen this behavior before; I could tell when she threw me a just wait and see what’s to come look.

I laughed too. Really, these two men were just too adorable together.

In the midst of the antics, Lindsay turned to James. “Mind if I get some air? It’s a bit stuffy in here.”

He nodded at her. “Only if Elle agrees to go with you,” he said, and then looked toward me. He was charming in a caveman sort of way. It seemed to suit him.

Lindsay was right, though. The room was smoky. Earlier, a few older men had been puffing on cigars and the air smelled stale. I didn’t seek Logan’s approval when I said to Lindsay, “Come on, what do you say we go for a walk?”

Her smile beamed. I could see why she was a Victoria’s Secret model. Besides being tall and thin, she had a quality about her that radiated beauty. Oddly, I wondered how many women like her Logan had fucked. Dozens was my guess, since James and he appeared to have many similar qualities and had traveled in the same circle for many years. I hated the insecurity being around his friends had drawn out in me. It wasn’t like me at all, but then again, it had been only the two of us in our own private bubble since we met, and this was more realistic. A shroud of guilt began to consume me for my dark thoughts.

A hand wrapped around my waist and a hard body pressed against mine. “Did you forget something?” His breath tickled my neck.

I leaned back and played along. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” His voice dipped, low, husky.

“Oh, right, I probably should leave a tip on the table,” I joked.

“No. Not that.”

I tipped my head back even farther. “Help a girl out and tell me.”

He spun me around.

That grin. The look. Heat. God, I loved him, every piece of him. Happy or sad. Right or wrong. Dressed or naked. Sober or drunk.

“I can do better than that,” he growled, and then his lush lips were on mine, parting, demanding, seeking.

Breathless, I pulled away. “Oh, if you wanted a kiss goodbye, all you had to do was ask,” I said with a wink.

In the midst of all the sadness surrounding him, he gave me a heart-stopping smile that I would remember forever. “I shouldn’t have to ask,” he teased.

On my toes, I gave my own alpha male another kiss, not like his but memorable nonetheless. Wet. Wild. With a little bit of tongue. “Was that better?”

“That’s enough, Romeo.” James’s big hand was on Logan’s shoulder, yanking him back. “It’s my turn.”

He pretended to go in for a full-on mouth kiss, but Logan shoved him away before he got too close.

Laughing, Lindsay and I left the pub.

Being free of Miles felt good. I appreciated the protection he had provided for me but was more than thankful when Logan called it off. After everything, Logan knew the one thing Tommy hadn’t lied about was leaving me alone.

Also, I hadn’t received any more blocked calls or messages, for which I was also thankful.

Outdoors, it was still light. Although inside it seemed like midnight, it was actually only six o’clock. Since Michael’s office closed early on Fridays, I was confident that even though it was right around the corner, he would have left already. Still, to be safe, I took Lindsay down the side streets.

We walked down one and up another, passing store after store. Soon, the light started to drain from the sky. “We should probably head back,” I suggested.

It was then that she spotted a stationery store called Love Notes and clapped her hands together. “Oh, let’s go in.”

I shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Myself, I’d never been into cards. Then again, I’d never had anyone to give one to.

Inside she found the section she was looking for immediately. It was in the back and designated by a sign that read naughty.

“Porn cards.” I had to laugh.

“Erotic cards,” she corrected. “Haven’t you ever given one to Logan? I give them to James all the time.”

Rather shocked such a section even existed, I shook my head. “No, I haven’t.” Surprised she gave them to her husband, I had to ask, “How long have you and James been married?” Logan hadn’t spoken of his friends much, so I knew little about them.

She laughed. “Not long. The same amount of time we’ve known each other.”

Eyes wide, my mouth dropped open.

She glanced at me. “We got married the night we met, or maybe it was the next day.”

Perplexed, I had to ask, “How does something like that happen?”

With a head shake she answered, “It was a Friday night and I was out with my friends. Next thing I know I’m on a private jet headed to Vegas with about twenty people, and then I’m in a chapel saying ‘I do.’ Sounds crazy, but it was love at first sight and we both knew it, so since we were in Vegas, we decided to do the deed.”

“Sounds almost like a fairy tale.”

She gushed, “He is my Prince Charming.”

My eyes wandered the section in front of us. There was a card with two cherries and a tongue between them, one with a woman stepping on a man’s ass in high heels, and another with a woman in a garter belt sitting forward on a man’s knees while he had his hand inside her panties.

Lindsay browsed for a few moments and then she picked one up. On the front was a picture of a woman bent over a man’s lap, his hand on her bare ass. The card read, “I’ve been naughty. Punish me.” She handed it to me. “Do something bad and then give this to Logan. I guarantee you’ll like the results.”

I didn’t take it. “Oh, Logan and I don’t have that type of relationship.”

She shoved it toward me this time. “Trust me, Elle, all men like a woman to be submissive once in a while. I doubt Logan is any different.”

I took the card and stared at it.

Did I want him to spank me?

Did he want to?

I remembered what he’d said to me the first day we’d met with a gleam in his eyes when we talked about the sex toys I was selling, “My friends from New York would love these,” or something like that.

She picked up another card, this one of a woman’s arms and legs bound to a bed frame and a man’s head between her legs.

My face must have registered my unease. Too many ghosts from the past.

She looked at me and simply said, “The best orgasms come when you give up control. I was never submissive with a man until James.”

Inserting my card back into its sleeve, I was interested as to what changed her. “What made you decide to be submissive with him, then?”

She set her card down and picked up another. “It’s what makes us work. It was what I needed and what he needed. I had a mother whom I always had to take care of and my entire childhood and teen years were full of decisions she should have made for me, but instead I was the one making them for her. James, on the other hand, had a very controlling mother and I think because of that, he needs to feel in control himself. It just happened naturally between us.”

“And you’re happy?”

“More happy than I’ve ever been in my life. I like that someone else makes the decisions for me. With the hecticness of my job, it’s so much less stressful for me. I ask permission and he decides if I should receive it. I need something and he takes care of it. Sometimes, I let him bind me and he gives me earth-shattering sex. And once in a while, I misbehave just so he can punish me.”

Her honesty didn’t shock me but it did surprise me. I was glad she felt comfortable enough around me to admit her feelings. Before I could say anything, her phone started to ring.

“Here, hold this,” she said, and handed me the card she had just picked up so she could dig in her purse. On the front was a picture of man holding his erection, and the caption read, “Talk dirty to me, baby. I need to get off.”

I stared at it and an unwanted memory flashed before me.

The surgery had been arranged.

My sister had reluctantly agreed to donate one of her kidneys to my mother. They were a perfect match. I was a match, but not as well matched as my sister.

Both my sister and mother were to arrive at the hospital early in the morning. It was the night before and I was sitting at the kitchen table, doing my homework. My mother was sitting beside me, watching me. She was weak, feeble, but optimistic she would get better.

My sister was supposed to have come home for dinner but never did.

It was just after ten when the door opened. Boots clunked inside and my heart fell. It wasn’t my sister.

My mother scurried from her chair to get my father’s dinner.

“I’ll get it, Mom. You sit down.”

She smiled at me. She had allowed me to do more and more for her over the past year. Grocery shopping, dinner, dishes, cleaning. All of her duties that my father expected but she had a hard time keeping up with.

He came into the room and set his gun on the counter before he looked around.

“Where’s Elizabeth?”

“She’s not home yet,” I answered quickly.

Anger flared in his eyes. He turned around and went back toward the door. I heard him lock it and latch the chain. Lizzy would have to call and apologize before he’d let her in. I hated nights like this.

His steps were louder this time as he came back into the kitchen. “What are you still doing up, Gabrielle?” he asked, his tone stern.

“I had to finish my homework, sir,” I answered, as I removed the foil from his carefully covered plate.

“Leave it. I already ate. I need to talk to your mother. Go on to bed.”

I couldn’t tell if he’d been drinking.

My eyes shot to my mother.

She nodded.

With that, I covered the plate and put it back in the refrigerator before I went to my room.

When he locked my door, it was a surprise. It had been a while since he’d done that.

“Susan,” he called.

Her steps were feeble as she came down the hall.

“I’m going to take a shower and then I want to talk to you.”

Doors opened. Closed. And then silence.

I lay on my bed, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping, praying, he was going to leave her alone tonight. All I heard was silence. I must have fallen asleep because I awoke to that god-awful thudding of the headboard more than an hour later.

“Talk to me, Susan. Tell me you like what you see.”

If my mother was responding, I couldn’t hear her.

“That’s it. Keep talking. Tell me you like to see my hands on my own cock. Tell me it turns you on. Gets you wet.”

Again, if my mother was talking, I couldn’t hear her.

“That’s it, baby. I’m so close. Tell me to move my hands faster. Fuck myself harder. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

At fifteen, I was so much more aware of things than I had been years ago. I knew he was jerking off in front of her. And sadly, I was just thankful he wasn’t making her have sex with him.

The phone started to ring.

“Ignore it. She’ll call back. Keep talking to me, baby. I need this. I need this from you.”

The phone kept ringing.

His moans told me he was starting to climax even through the incessant ringing.

Soon, though, all was quiet. Even him.

I had fallen back asleep.

The phone started to ring again and woke me. This time when I looked at the time it was close to three A.M.

“Yeah,” he barked into the phone.

Silence.

“Fuck. I’ll be right there.”

My eyes flashed to the card again. Maybe it was because my sister’s death was still fresh in my mind that I had to fight back the urge to cry. My family was such a fucked-up thing. And my daddy issues would never allow for me to be submissive with any man.

“Yes, baby, I understand. Sure. I can do that. Have fun,” Lindsay said.

Her words drew my attention.

Silence.

Her cheeks flushed. “Me too.”

With her phone in her hand, she dug into her purse again, and this time pulled out her keys and looked at me. “Molly’s is closing so it can reopen to the public later tonight. James suggested you and I take the car back to the hotel and he and Logan will take a cab back later.”

“Oh,” I said, a little surprised that Logan hadn’t called me to tell me himself, but then I remembered why. “I have to go back there—my purse is locked up in the backroom along with my phone.”

She grimaced a little. “Let me tell James to get it for you. I guess Logan is more than a little drunk, and James thinks it’s best if he sobers him up before they rejoin us.”

“Oh,” I found myself saying again. “Maybe he needs me.”

“Nonsense, he’ll be fine with James. James was very fond of Logan’s grandfather and I think they want to reminisce and have some boy time.” She plucked the card from my hand. “Let me pay for this and we’ll have a girls’ night in. We can rent a movie and raid the candy in the minibar.”

Worried about Logan, I found myself saying yes just so I would know what was going on. Besides, I didn’t seem to have any other choice without my purse, and I also wasn’t about to leave Logan alone.

Lindsay and James were staying in a very familiar Four Seasons suite. It was the same suite Logan had been living in when we met, before his grandfather blocked his access to his trust fund and his own money started to run out.

It was after ten and the movie Lindsay and I were watching had just ended, but no guys had come to the hotel yet. I was more than a little worried about Logan.

Lindsay jumped up. “Let’s go find a store that sells Ben & Jerry’s. I’m still hungry.”

My eyes skittered over the candy wrappers littered on the table. “You’re going to get a sugar high.”

She laughed. “I’m already on one. I need to keep it going. Besides, I’m going to go stir-crazy waiting for them.”

Standing up and stretching, I conceded. “I think there’s a store around the corner. But I’ll go only if you call James when we get back and find out where they are.”

She nodded. “Okay, deal.”

The expedition on foot to find the small convenience store took longer than I’d anticipated, and by the time we got there it was closed.

With no ice cream but a few bags of chips from a vending machine, we headed back to the hotel. I had to work in the morning, but sleep wasn’t what was on my mind. Logan was.

We passed a strip bar and she bumped my hip. “We could go in and when we get back, I could call James and tell him I watched naked women dance. I guarantee that would bring him back fast.”

Shaking my head, I was horrified at the thought, but at the same time, I laughed a real, genuine, from-the-belly laugh. I liked Lindsay. She was free-spirited about sex in a way I’d never been. She was also a nice person. I could see myself being friends with her.

The coolness of the night air had begun to set in. With the suddenly harsher wind, we both felt the chill and even in our heels, we hastened our pace.

As soon as we walked into the hotel suite, I was assaulted by the tang of a sticky, sweet scent. It was the smell of pot. Never one to try it myself, in my travels I’d come across many people who had. Moldy grass was how I’d always described the smell.

Lindsay shot me a glance and confirmed my suspicion.

Hard rock blared through the open space. The patio doors were open and I saw the back of two heads flopped on the lounge chairs. Even over the music, I heard laughter rumbling into the room. I was glad that at least Logan was upbeat.

Lindsay started for them and looked at me. “Shhh.”

I followed, keeping my mouth shut.

We both approached, eager to see our men, but stopped at the edge of door to watch them. They were playing cards and a baggie of pot was on the floor.

James had changed and was now wearing sleep pants and a T-shirt. He had a cigar gripped between his teeth while he tossed two piles of cards onto the table between them.

Logan was still in his suit pants but had removed everything else. Everything. Outside in his pants only, I wondered how he wasn’t freezing until I looked up and saw the heat lamps were on.