Mad Enough to Marry - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,8

teenagers' entwined hands.

**Fine then," she told Logan, shoving the thousand-dollar bill back into her pocket. "I'll make sure your money gets to the committee." Without waiting for his response, she trailed behind Gabby and Tyler.

Logan trailed her.

She turned her head to look at him. "Why are you following me?"

"Because, damn it, I'm never satisfied with the way things end between us."

There was something hot in his eyes. She hated when he did that. At will, it seemed, he could put a sexual bum into his gaze. She was sure he did it to fluster her, so of course she'd die before she'd let him know that look made her knees quiver and her stomach flutter.

*'Stop doing that." She made sure she sounded irritated.

He shook his head, then put his hand on her arm, halting her movement. '*Elena...'*

Her body was trembling, it was horribly embarrassing, but it was. She tensed her muscles, hoping he wouldn't detect her helpless reaction to his touch. What an unsophisticate he'd consider her if he knew.

*'Elena." His voice softened, hoarsened. That heat in his brown eyes was melting the strength she counted on for survival. **You are so madden—"

**Elena! Someone bought my painting!"

At the sound of her sister's voice, Elena found the will to pull away from the spell of Logan's gaze and touch. She turned to face the approaching Gabby, Tyler a bit behind her. ''What, GabrielUta?"

Cabby's face was flushed and her eyes sparkled. "I sold my very first painting!"

Elena tried to catch up to her sister's excitement "You brought your art to the show." She vaguely remembered Gabby telling her that she and Tyler were each submitting a painting, but the details had gotten lost in all the other details of their busy life.

Gabby nodded. "Mr. Barger—^he's the one in charge of the art show—said it sold about ten minutes ago. And Mrs. Eddleston from the bank is writing a check for Tyler's painting right now."

Her Uttle sister looked as though she was about to pop, and it made Elena grin.

"Congratulations, Gabby." It was Logan.

Cabby's head jerked up and she blinked, as if no-

ticing him for the first time. Hot color rushed across her face. **Thank you. Really. Thank you."

Confused, Elena looked between Gabby and Logan. **What's going on?"

**I bought the painting," Logan said, his gaze on Gabby. '*You can verify it with Mr. Barger, by the way, that I didn't realize who the artist was until after the sale."

Elena turned to look at him, still bewildered. "You bought a painting?"

There was a funny expression on Logan's face. "I've just moved and I could use something for my walls. The painting..." He cleared his throat, shrugged, looked away. "Called to me."

There was a buzzing in Elena's ears. "Wh—" She had to stop, start again. ' 'Which painting, exactly, did you show today, Gabby?"

Her sister gulped. Audibly.

"No," Elena protested, her voice swallowed up by horror.

Gabby nodded, an expression somewhere between mischief and apology in her eyes. "Elena in Bed."

Elena's gaze flew to Logan, even as a flush moved just as quickly from her toes to her forehead. Forget worrying about looking sixteen. Because now the man had bought the right to look at her—^aU day and all night if he wanted.

And though she appeared decent enough in the painting, it didn't help her state of mind to know— and Logan likely suspected—^that beneath those covers she'd been stark naked.

* * *

Late Sunday afternoon, Logan blasted U2 through his stereo speakers as inspiration while he stripped the fourteen coats of paint covering the banister of the stairway in his three-story Victorian. His fingers ached from his grip on the scraper, his back would never be the same after spending the day half-bent, and he was stooping because his knees were already bruised to hell and back. But he'd never been happier in his life, he thought, singing along with Bono. Yeah, man. It was a beautiful day.

It took a while for a muffled banging to distinguish itself from the drumline of the song. Someone was knocking on his front door.

Logan descended the steps at a jog, then paused to turn down the stereo before approaching the foyer. With his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. Maybe he should—

No, even if it was good oV Jonathon Chase, his father, intent on another turn of the guilt screws, it was too late to pretend he wasn't home. Bracing himself, he pulled open the door,

Elena stood on the other side, looking as surprised to see him as he was