Logan - Lane Hart Page 0,4
there, but I was only waiting in the police station for an hour or so before they took me to see her, and that was way too long for my sanity.
Letting her go so that she’s leaning back against the bench seat, I place my shoulder bag between us to dig through it.
“Here,” I say as I find and pull out a bottle of water. Twisting off the top, I hand it to Brayden, who takes it from my hand with her shaky one. “Slow sips at first,” I tell her because I don’t want her to pour it into her empty stomach and then get sick.
With a nod, her sea-green, red-rimmed eyes finally lift to mine from underneath her messy hair. As she starts to drink the water, those stunning eyes close as she savors it like it’s the best beverage in the world. I enjoy the fact that I’m the one who was able to provide such a simple thing for her.
Pulling my gaze away from her enjoying the water, I dig through my bag. And when I hear the crinkling wrapper of a granola bar, I pull it out.
“It’s not much...” I say when I offer it to her.
“It’s perfect,” she says as she snatches it from me, rips into the wrapper and takes a bite. Again, her eyes drift closed, but this time she actually releases a low moan. “God, that’s good.”
“We’ll find you more to eat and drink when we get to the hotel,” I say, wishing I had more for her now. I could leave her here to go get something but would rather not chance something happening to her. And Brayden is definitely not in any state to take into a restaurant with her red dress ruined.
After she takes her last bite of the bar and then washes it down, Brayden’s eyes squint at me for a few silent seconds before she says, “Logan?”
Wait, I haven’t even introduced myself yet, have I?
“Ah, yeah. I’m Logan Davenport. I work for your father…”
“I know,” she responds with a nod.
“Oh,” I reply since I’m not exactly sure how she knows. I’ve never seen her in the office.
“Thank you for whatever you did back there to get me out.”
“I wish I could say it was my lawyering skills, but really I just gave the jailer a thousand bucks to see you and then hightailed it out of there.”
Smiling, or attempting to until she cringes in pain and licks her dry lips, she says, “Either way, you’re still my hero.”
Her words do something to me that I’ve never felt before. My gut clenches and my chest swells with pride. It feels amazing to help someone who needed it, even though I’m still not sure how she ended up in jail, if it was an actual offense or if she just looked like an American girl with money.
When I first arrived in Cancun, after a nine-hour flight with a two-hour layover in Atlanta, I attempted to ask the jailer: ¿Por qué fue arrestada la niña?
The old man simply waggled his thick, dark eyebrows that matched his mustache and thrust his hips lewdly in demonstration, which was just a wonderful sight to see, let me tell you.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter what Brayden did or didn’t do. She’s out now. Thank fuck. And of course, I feel guilty about bitching when Page called and asked me to get on a plane and come down here. What if I hadn’t? Or what if I had waited another day? Brayden is pitiful now. In a day, who knows what could’ve happened to her.
“Are you ready to get to the hotel?” I ask since she’s finished eating.
“Yes. I’m sorry I’m so…gross,” she says as she glances down at her dirty dress.
“Hey, it’s not your fault. I bet you’ll feel a lot better after a nice, warm bath.”
“And I bet you’ll be able to breathe again once I stop gaging you,” she replies with a small smile, trying to make light of the situation.
“I’m just worried about you,” I tell her honestly, and it sounds almost too honest. Clearing my throat, I get to my feet and toss my bag over my shoulder. “Ready?”
Chapter Four
Brayden
“Sure,” I reply to Logan when he asks if I’m ready to go to the hotel. Pushing aside the small panic attack when imagining him leaving me alone in a hotel room in this city, I hand him my trash to throw away in the nearby can. Then, I brace my