Sudden panic gripped her, squeezing the breath out of her. She didn’t want to think of him like this. Didn’t want to admire him so much or understand him so well. It was supposed to be easy between them. Casual. Superficial. Sensible and realistic. That was all she wanted. All she could handle for now. She simply would not risk anything more.
It had hurt her badly enough when Harry had told her that he no longer wanted her as part of his life. That the passion had faded, the excitement was over, the feelings were gone. The same things her parents had said to each other years earlier. Things her brother had probably said to his two ex-wives. Even imagining hearing those words, or variations thereof, from Logan made her whole body tighten in dread.
Fiona squirmed and meowed, and Alexis realized she must have tightened her grip a bit too much. “Sorry,” she murmured, setting the cat down and stroking her in apology. “I was just being silly.”
She was, of course. Logan had made it clear from the start that he wasn’t looking for permanence or romance. He’d given her no reason to make her believe he’d changed his mind, right? No promises, no potential grief.
So maybe he’d shared a little more of his past with her. They were friends. Friends talked. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that.
They’d have pizza Tuesday night, she thought, heading for the bedroom with her chin up, her mouth set in a resolute line. Probably they’d have sex. And then he would leave, as he always did, and they’d turn their attentions to their individual busy schedules. After that, they’d stay in touch with occasional friendly phone calls, get together when they could—certainly not as often once the wedding season picked up. And when they mutually agreed the affair had run its course, they would end it as friendly associates, just the way they’d agreed from the start.
Feeling much better now, she got ready for bed, then climbed beneath the covers while Fiona curled up beside her. But it was the memory of being held against Logan’s warm, bare chest that accompanied her into sleep.
* * *
The scents of melted cheese and steaming vegetables filled the cab of Logan’s pickup as he parked in Alexis’s driveway Tuesday evening. He juggled the box and the bottle of good red wine he’d brought as he climbed out of the truck and headed for her front door. He’d actually considered bringing flowers. He’d seen a display when he’d stopped for the wine and he’d found himself debating between roses and daisies before he’d stopped himself. He would buy her flowers sometime, but not tonight. She’d think he was up to something for sure if he showed up with dinner and wine and flowers.
She opened the door with a smile that was so bright it almost glittered. He wasn’t entirely sure it reached her eyes, but she looked down at his hands before he could study them through her glasses. Maybe she was just tired. She’d said she would be putting in some hard hours this week.
“That smells delicious,” she said, ushering him inside. “I’m really hungry. I had a salad for lunch and that was hours ago.”
“Good. I’m starving, too, so let’s eat while it’s hot.” He handed her the wine, which she studied approvingly before turning to get wineglasses.
Fiona walked a big circle around Logan, meowing and obviously looking for Ninja. When she conceded that her friend hadn’t come, she made a show of turning her back on Logan and stalking away, tail in the air to express her displeasure.
He laughed. “Your cat makes her feelings known, doesn’t she?”
“Very much so.”
They talked about work during the meal, discussing the things they’d done since they’d parted Sunday night, chatting about upcoming obligations. Alexis had nothing scheduled at the inn for the next few weeks, though she had several events scheduled at other venues. She had a big wedding at a church on the coming Saturday evening and that, in addition to her usual meetings and duties, would keep her occupied for the rest of this week, she said. Logan told her he would stay occupied for the next few days with spring plantings in the gardens and numerous flower beds surrounding the inn, along with some routine maintenance chores.
When they’d eaten their fill, he helped her with cleanup and then they carried their wineglasses into the living room and sat side by side on the couch, though Alexis didn’t immediately reach for the television remote. Proving she’d forgiven him, Fiona leaped onto his lap to head-butt his hand in a demand for strokes and scratches, which he obligingly provided.
“Did your software meeting go well?” Alexis asked.
“Yeah, he was satisfied with the report I’d prepared for him. I made several recommendations that will streamline his operation and let him spend less time on paperwork. He’s been wasting a couple hours a week on redundant forms that could easily be consolidated in one program.”
“Hmm. Maybe I should hire you to look at the programs Gretchen and I use for my business,” she mused, obviously impressed. “Saving us a c
ouple hours a week on record-keeping and ordering would be well worth the cost—assuming your services are affordable, of course,” she teased.
“For you—very.”
She frowned and shook her head, not exactly the response he’d expected though he probably should have. “I’d want to pay your usual rates, of course. I wasn’t asking for favoritism. Remember, we agreed to keep our personal relationship totally separate from business.”
“I remember,” he said with a slight shake of his head. Heaven forbid he step on her professional pride, he thought in mild exasperation. “If you’re serious, I’ll look at your operation at my usual hourly consultation fee, less a twenty percent discount because you bring so much business to the inn.”
“That sounds fair.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he said with mock gravity, earning himself a look.
He leaned over to set his wineglass on the table in front of the couch and drew a breath. He was about to take a major step, and he wasn’t entirely sure how she would react.
“One of the guys I play basketball with a couple times a month just got a big promotion in his job. He’ll be moving to Dallas in a few weeks. Some of us are getting together at another friend’s house next Tuesday—a week from tonight—for a party in his honor.”
“That sounds nice,” she said, a little distracted by the cat, who had climbed into her lap and was sniffing her wine. She lifted her glass a little higher and set Fiona gently aside.
“So I thought maybe you could go with me. If you aren’t busy that night.”