to New Mexico. The shirt read: FBI: Female Body Inspector.
Every time she saw him in it, she rolled her eyes and revisited the fun weekend they had together going down there. He had bought her a shirt—One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor! —only after she had imbibed on too much tequila one evening. Needless to say, it wasn’t her favorite shirt and she was pretty sure it was shoved into the back corner of one of her drawers at home.
Logan set his briefcase down near her POS system and released a breath. “Come on, you know I love your company. Besides, you and I both know I don’t have anything else better to do. I have a couple files to work on, but besides that, I am at your service.”
“Great. You can help me sort out some of these panties and help me tie the tags around them. I have some garter belts and a few more bras that need tagged too. But if you have too much to do,” she waved at his briefcase, “that’s okay too.”
Logan leaned toward Gabriella’s face and smiled. His eyes were bright and happy. They twinkled. “Gabbie, the files I have aren’t anything that have to be done right away. Besides, we have all day…unless you are going to see Brody.” He laughed and held his hand up before she could respond. “I’m sorry. Cody.”
Why did Logan have a problem with her chef? He intentionally kept messing up his name. “First of all, no, I am not seeing my chef this weekend and second of all, why do you insist on calling him by the wrong name? It’s not that hard! Cody. C-O-D-Y, do you get that? It’s as if you don’t like him and you’ve only met him, what? Three times?”
“Four,” Logan wiggled his four fingers at her. “And I’m surprised he doesn’t make more time for you. What’s his problem?”
His eyebrows scrunched together as the corners of his lips turned up in irritation. She didn’t understand where Logan had picked up this sudden attitude every time they were together. She was certain he knew she didn’t see Cody all the time and she was positive that Logan knew he was a chef who worked most nights, and that was the reason they couldn’t see each other often. She worked during the day and slept at night, and he worked at night and slept during the day.
“Logan, you know he’s a chef. We can’t see each other all the time. Besides, why would you be surprised he doesn’t make more time for me? Did he tell you something?”
Again, Logan’s eyebrows scrunched together, “No. He didn’t tell me anything…it’s just, you know.” he gestured his arm toward her and the store behind him. “You’re obviously beautiful, successful and all your friends are getting married. I assumed you must think it’s time to settle down or whatever it is women think they need to do.”
He nervously cleared his throat and she couldn’t help but giggle. “No. Not yet anyway. I don’t really think about marriage much. I mean, most guys want kids anyway, right? But no, with everything going on here and it taking up most of my time, I don’t really think about it. Only when I see Lucy slobbering all over you like a lost puppy.”
Logan cringed. “You noticed that, huh? Now do you see why I don’t want anything more than just…you know…to do with her?”
“Yes, I totally get it.”
“Which I’m not complaining.”
“Of course, you’re not complaining,” she smirked.
He spread out his arms in a grand gesture. “Do you blame me? What if what’s-his-name was at your disposal to do with what you will? Wouldn’t you want that? Wouldn’t you want to take everything a man was giving you, Gabriella?”
Chapter Three
How had this conversation gone from innocent to sex? Especially to what Gabriella would do if a particular man was offering her his body. He had started out honestly thinking of her chef, but somehow as the questions left his mouth and his thoughts became convoluted with sex, he was suddenly transformed into a ghost-like version of himself and he was watching himself offering sexual things to Gabriella.
Anything she wanted.
Anything she craved. Needed. Desired.
He would do it.
He swallowed down his ridiculous thoughts and hoped she didn’t notice the bulge in his pants as he watched her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. He wasn’t sorry he had put her on the spot. He wanted to know what she would do