He shook his head. “I’ve pushed the door open a bit. Now you have to choose to walk through it. Or not.”
After everything that had happened today, she couldn’t take more mind games. “Logan left me. He crushed me and walked away without a backward glance when we were sophomores in high school. I make him feel guilty, but he doesn’t actually care.”
Xander shook his head. “For him, the sun rises and sets on you. If you decide to seek the truth, once you see and understand all of his tattoos, maybe you’ll believe me.”
Chapter Eight
Nearby motel—Friday night
HAIR wet from her recent shower, Tara combed her tresses with one hand and rifled through her suitcase absently with the other. She grabbed a cotton floral nightie from inside, stared at the duffel bag by her feet, then frowned. In the year she’d been living with Brad, this was all she had come away with? She’d walked in with the clothes on her back and walked out with the same. Everything in the house had been his when they’d moved in together. She’d never bought a stick of furniture with him. Hell, not even a toaster.
What did that say about their relationship? Had she unconsciously known that it wouldn’t last?
Tara swallowed as she flipped the lid of the suitcase closed and shoved on her pajamas. She poured more wine into one of the hotel’s cheap plastic cups and grimaced. By far, she preferred tequila for a good, rousing drunk, but being in a part of town that only allowed beer and wine sales, she’d had to make do. After half the bottle, however, she couldn’t say that she felt any better.
Not that she felt bad exactly, just somewhat numb. And that was the problem. On a day she’d come twice for a man she had refused to miss in years and the case she worked on being complicated by a dead body, not to mention the fact that she’d lost her fiancé, she should feel something. But Tara wondered now if she’d been truly feeling for years.
Everything came back to Logan. Somehow, over the miles and years, he’d continued his hold on her without a single touch. Now suddenly, he was back in her life. In fact, he was the center of her world this week. Could she make it to the next without losing her heart again?
She wanted to talk to Logan, ached to ask him questions. But that wasn’t smart. What if the truth made her want him more? If she embraced him now, how broken would she be if he walked away again? After everything he’d taken from her today, and, damn him, given her, she wasn’t ready for any sort of soul baring. Tears lurked under the surface of her haze; she could feel them. Just like her adolescent self, she couldn’t seem to hold anything back from him. Logan was her downfall, probably always would be.
Tara downed the rest of the wine in her cup. Damn, she wished this stuff would work faster.
A boom blasted through her room, startling her. Someone was pounding on her door.
No one knew she was here, not even Adam. Her stepfather would not be pleased with today’s developments. He thought Brad was perfect, and Logan was Satan’s spawn, so she’d bailed on dinner with her stepfather tonight, not having the energy to explain herself and defend her actions. So who the hell wanted in her room at nearly ten p.m.?
She tiptoed to the door and peeked out the hole. Logan, wearing all black and carrying a grocery sack packed full. For a moment, she debated not opening the door, but he already knew she was inside. He wasn’t going to go away.
With a sigh, Tara pulled the door open, then leaned against it. “Why are you here?”
“I’m a Dom; it’s my job to take care of you.”
That was the last damn thing she wanted to hear. “Only when we’re working. Otherwise, I can take care of myself. You’ve already been up in my face for most of the day. I don’t need you here tonight, too, ordering me around and—”
“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Cherry.” He gripped the bag tighter. “I just came to bring you a few things, see what else you needed.”
Without another word, he held out the bag to her. Curiosity got the better of her, and she grabbed it. A peek inside revealed some bottled water, toothbrush and toothpaste, dental floss, shampoo, and a comb.
She looked at him with a questioning gaze, and he shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you’d been able to get anything from Brad’s house, and I didn’t like the thought of you shopping at night by yourself, especially around here.”
Against her better judgment she was touched. “I managed to get all my things from his house, but thank you. Come in.”
As she stepped back, he edged inside, looking around at the rundown dump. He scowled. “This is . . . No, Cherry, come stay with me. I promise, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but you—”
“Will be fine.” Tara marveled that he seemed genuinely concerned as she set the grocery bag on a nearby Formica table. “I know it’s not the Ritz, but Misty said the place was reputable enough. I’ve got lots of locks on the doors and bolts on the windows. No one is getting in here to hurt me.”
Logan blew out a deep breath, clearly pensive. “This is another reason I wish I was your Dom. I could just tell you to come with me so I could sleep beside your warm body peacefully, knowing that you’re safe.”
Another reason? “I am an FBI agent, you know.”
“But you’re also a beautiful woman in a world with a lot of predators.”
She softened again. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Yeah. And smart and capable. This visit was for my peace of mind. Thanks for humoring me.”
“You’re really different away from the club.”